Self-help writers are the socially acceptable cousins of cult leaders, religious gurus, and influencers. They (We?) sell the idea of personal transformation, peddling hacks to success or eternal happiness. Like cult leaders, they thrive on charisma and a knack for creating a devoted following, except their rituals involve buying books and attending workshops instead of spiritual ceremonies, drugs, and group sex. They’ve perfected the art of crafting a sense of community around their transformative wisdom, convincing followers that their unique insights are the path to a better life. The testimonials, success stories, and endorsements serve as the modern-day equivalent of divine miracles. In essence, self-help writers are merely the highbrow and less physically vain version of Instagram influencers.So, take all the advice I’m about to dispense with a grain of salt. Unlike those who have made a living writing, I can’t further capitalize on my success by writing about how to succeed. However, I can tell you why I keep writing for an audience while cheerfully hemorrhaging money.It’s therapeutic. Nobody knows for sure why writing is therapeutic. The underlying mechanism is likely to be complex and multifactorial. One theory is that the mere act of ‘getting it off your chest’ is a powerful therapeutic agent. Writing may facilitate the cognitive processing of traumatic memories, resulting in more adaptive, integrated representations about the writer themselves, their world, and others. It’d also be possible that the development of a coherent narrative over time will help find meaning in the traumatic experience.Now, this might be true when writing for yourself. But what about when you’re writing for an audience? Writing for an audience doesn’t always mean writing for an income. If you write for the market, you sell your freedom while turning your passion into a product. It turns the creative process into labour instead of play, which might be worth it when it results in a financial goal, but I’m unfamiliar with the particular outcome. I’m not yet privy to the lives of those who make a living by creating what their hearts desire. Nor have I experienced the thrill when thousands of people like your work. Yet, I still prefer writing for an audience than keeping a diary. For those of us writing about our lives, keeping an audience in mind can make the act of writing even more therapeutic because it makes you look from the outside in. It forces you to examine where the greatest forces of antagonism are coming from, which flaws are of interest, whether the characters’ desires are getting in the way of their goals, if you see the people in your life as complex human beings, whether the narrative includes a character arc, and so on. So, why is the archetype of a writer a self-loathing alcoholic? With all this reflection, you'd think we’d be stable and content, yet we’re often anything but. Writing about yourself, like reading self-help books, requires paying too much attention to yourself—a depressing process when you take yourself too seriously.Whether fiction or nonfiction, all writers draw on their lives in one way or another. Sometimes, a mystical intervention outside of ourselves opens us up to the universe, retires the ego, and leaves a sense of fulfilment. Even then, we’re just tools that filter the information based on our lived experience. So, don’t delude yourself into thinking that buying into our words grants you a magical blueprint for life. Writing, at its core, is a reflection of the messy, complicated world we all share—not a golden ticket to enlightenment or success. If you’re inspired, great. If you feel compelled to support us, even better. Personally, I’d love it. Just don’t confuse a guru, influencer, or religious leader’s advice for your truth, and don’t mistake our stories for a shortcut to living your own.Born Without Borders is a reader-supported guide to the craft of nonconformity, cultural psychology, travel writing and how to salir de las fronteras que impone tu mente. Both free and paid subscriptions are available. If you want to support my work and help me upgrade to more than one cabin bag, the best way is to take out a paid subscription.Born Without Borders is only $5/month or $30/year now! Related Articles This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bornwithoutborders.substack.com/subscribe
