Ever feel like you’re capable of more, but can’t quite break through? That’s potential talking. Every writer I know has it. Some are sitting on mountains of it. But here’s the truth about potential—it’s worthless unless you act on it.
Aristotle had a word for this. “Dunamis”. The latent power of becoming. He saw potential as real, not imaginary. A seed isn’t just a seed. It’s a tree in waiting. But for that to happen, it needs the right conditions and, most importantly, action.
Writers aren’t any different. I’ve been around this writing game long enough to see a hard truth. Most of us don’t come close to what we’re capable of. Me undoubtedly included.
Why?
It’s not because we’re lazy. Writers are some of the most disciplined people I know. It’s not because we lack ideas. If anything, our heads are overcrowded with them.
The real problem? Fear and friction.
Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of writing something that falls flat. Fear that your next book won’t live up to the last one.
And then there’s friction. Distractions, cluttered headspace, and that nagging voice that says it’s safer to stay where you are than push forward.
Viktor Frankl—a man who understood survival and meaning better than most—said that success can’t be pursued directly. It has to result from fulfilling a purpose greater than yourself.
In plain English: if you want to unlock your potential as a writer, you need a why. Not a bestseller list. Not an advance. Not applause. But a why.
It could be telling the story only you can tell. It could be shining a light on something that matters. It could be proving to yourself that you can do it.
But potential without direction? It rots.
Something I learned from years of policing, coroner work, and writing is this. Big breakthroughs are built on small, consistent moves.
A page a day. A scene every week. A query letter sent. An uncomfortable rewrite.
Over time, these small acts compound. Like interest in the bank. Yes, compound interest which Einstein said was the eighth wonder of the world. That’s how you turn potential into pages and pages into a book.
Three Ways to Start Unlocking Your Potential
Here are three practical strategies that helped me more than I realized at the time:
- Write with urgency. Stop waiting for the “perfect time” to write. It doesn’t exist. If you’ve got ten minutes, use it.
- Find your friction, then kill it. Is it social media? A cluttered workspace? A manuscript you dread opening because you’re scared it’s not good enough? Identify what’s slowing you down and remove it.
- Don’t do this alone. Every writer needs allies — critique groups, mentors, writing partners, trusted readers. Writing may be solitary, but growth isn’t.
The Writer’s Edge
If you’re a crime, thriller, or suspense writer, your stories already live in tension, uncertainty, and danger. But here’s the secret. Your potential as a storyteller is as suspenseful as any plot twist you’ll ever write.
It’s unknown. It’s waiting. And it’s yours to chase… or abandon.
The best writers I know aren’t the most talented. They’re the ones who took their potential seriously — and acted on it. And that’s your invitation.
Ask yourself today:
- Am I where I could be?
- Am I willing to do what it takes to get there?
- What am I avoiding that would unlock my next level?
Your potential as a writer isn’t some lofty idea. It’s real. It’s waiting.
And the best time to tap into it? It’s now.
Kill Zoners — Is there anyone out there who feels they’ve tapped out their true potential?