What People Get Wrong About My Job

Everyone Thinks My Job Is a Beach (Pun Very Much Intended)

When I tell people I’m a writer, the reactions are wild. It ranges from dreamy-eyed intrigue (“Oh wow, you must have so much free time! Lucky you!”) to outright confusion (“So… like, what do you even do all day? Just, like, journals and poems?”). The most popular assumption? That I spend my days doodling in a Moleskine by the beach while sipping iced coffee, waiting for some cosmic wave of inspiration to hit.

Spoiler alert: I do like iced coffee, but the rest of that mental picture is as fictional as any of the short stories I’ve written. Writing as a career is equal parts rewarding, beautiful chaos and meticulous work. So yes, I get to work barefoot sometimes, but let’s dispel a few myths about what it’s really like to do this for a living—no sunscreen required.

Myth #1: Writers Just Wait for Inspiration to Strike

If I waited for “inspiration” to show up like a Hallmark movie leading man, I’d still be staring at a blank screen, wondering if it’s socially acceptable to eat pretzels before 10 a.m.

Writing is work. It involves showing up daily and wrestling with words—even when they don’t cooperate. It’s pacing around your room, putting on that same lo-fi playlist for the fourth time, and muttering to yourself, “Why did I willingly choose a career where I’m married to deadlines?”

Some days, ideas flow like a soft tide at sunrise. Other days, it’s more like a riptide pulling you out to an abyss of self-doubt. But here’s the truth: inspiration doesn’t roll in like waves. You have to go out, grab your paddleboard, and chase it down.

Writer Tip for Real Life: This is true of relationships, too. Sparkling connections aren’t always magic at first sight. Real love often takes effort—showing up consistently, even on the days when your “script” feels shaky.

Myth #2: Writers Only Do “Creative Stuff”

Look, I love a swoony storytelling session as much as the next person (raised on Nicholas Sparks movies in a beach town—you know the drill). But here’s the tea: writing is about 30% creative expression and 70% everything else.

I’m talking research. Editing the same four sentences sixteen different ways. Crafting headlines that scream “Click me!” Spending way too much time figuring out if “ruffle” or “frill” is the better word choice for a metaphor. Oh, and let’s not forget self-promotion, invoicing, and approximately eight different existential crises before sending in my final draft.

Writing isn’t just romanticizing seagulls against a golden sky; sometimes, it’s clarifying exactly how many drinks per friend you need for your wedding toast article (hint: always err on the side of extra champagne).

Writer Tip for Real Life: Think of your relationship as a story. Yes, the memorable moments—the beach sunsets, the flirty glances, or the ways they hold your hand—count. But don’t forget the logistics: the effort behind planning date nights, apologizing after arguments, and consistently showing up for each other.

Myth #3: Writers Are Glamorous, Effortlessly Cool Creatives

Listen, I’m as romantic about my craft as anyone can be about a job that involves endless staring at a blinking cursor. But “effortlessly cool”? Hard pass.

Those Instagram influencers who claim to sip rosé on rooftops while penning their bestsellers? They must have miracles—or ghostwriters—on their side. Truthfully, my writing ‘vibe’ looks more like this: sweats, questionable hair clips, me divided between four Word docs because I suddenly got an unrelated idea for a novel while trying to write an article about breakups.

This is not glamorous work, friends. It’s heart-squeezing, hair-pulling, deadline-juggling human chaos. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Being able to distill stories—whether about dating disasters or nuanced relationships—straight from my brain to yours feels like magic no matter what I’m wearing (spoiler: it’s usually pajamas).

Writer Tip for Real Life: In dating, you don’t need to look “effortlessly cool” to connect with someone. Forget the façade of perfection—it’s the unfiltered, quirky stuff (your inability to eat tacos without spilling salsa everywhere) that creates real bonds.

Myth #4: Writers Only Care About “The Arts”

I get it. My Southern-but-literary background screams “tortured poetry lover” to the uninitiated. And sure, I’ll always love a good moody metaphor. But a big part of my job is leaning beyond the romance of diction and diving into what matters to readers—which, let’s be honest, isn’t abstract haikus.

I’ve written about everything from relationship power moves to post-breakup playlists. And do I take inspiration from the drama of “The Bachelor” or my friend’s most recent why-are-you-like-this dating fail? Yep, 100%. That mix of art and real-world messiness is a sweet spot where audiences connect.

Writer Tip for Real Life: Deep relationships blend big, meaningful gestures with the small, silly stuff—like sharing reality TV hot takes after a real talk about your hopes for the future.

Myth #5: Writers Always Know What to Say

If only. Ironically, the very writers who sound smooth on paper are often the ones tripping over their words in real-time (hi, guilty). Being able to craft razor-sharp sentences doesn’t mean we’re as charismatic at a dinner party as we are in print.

In relationships, too, I’ve found myself fumbling when words mattered most. Like the time I tried to write a sea-inspired apology note to an ex—with seashell metaphors I immediately regretted. Writing and relationships remind me of one important truth: sometimes, precision doesn’t matter as much as showing up, flawed yet sincere.

Writer Tip for Real Life: Whether crafting the perfect text or confessing your feelings in person, don’t let the need to “say the right thing” paralyze you. Authentic, heartfelt communication wins every time—even if it’s a little clunky.

Final Thoughts: The Real Job

You know what’s real about being a writer? It’s having a million tabs open in your brain (and browser), channeling your lived experiences into something that resonates, and hoping the words you crafted from your cozy (okay, messy) corner are enough to impact someone else.

And here’s the ultimate kicker: everyone’s romanticized idea of my job? It’s actually true in some small, magical ways. Some days do feel like a carefree stroll by the shoreline, the kind where you find pretty shells without even looking. But take it from someone whose flip-flops are often sticky with sand—the most meaningful work comes when it gets messy. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Much like love, at its core, the craft of writing is a constant reminder: beautiful things take time, effort, and a big dose of heart. So, the next time someone asks what I do all day, I think I’ll just say this: I chase stories for people. And every story—and writer—has its tidal patterns.