Photo by the author: Danielle Owen

We’ve all been asked it. I’d venture to guess it’s the most popular question I receive when people find out what I do. (Shortly after “OhH! What kind of writing!?”)

Sometimes its snarky, a bit of masked jealously falling out of their mouth before they can sugarcoat the cadence: “And you get paid to do that?”

Frequently it’s genuine curiosity, whether they have secret dreams of publishing a New York Times best seller or not: “How does one get into writing for a living?”

The most obvious advice can also come across a bit self-centered (“Well you have to be a good writer, for starters…”)

And the rest of the advice I find myself giving falls somewhere along these 5 points:

Hint: The jury is still out on whether the excessive use of sarcasm in titles is Secret Point #6.

1. Red Wine

I thought about making this entire essay an ode to wine.

“red wine so fruity and full

you make me feel happy

like snuggly, warm wool”

But clearly I’m not a poet. Although I did write an Ode to Yoda for a poetry class at University if you’re interested.

But on a serious note — I’m quite the perfectionist and I imagine many other writers are as well.

In fact, I’ve had half a glass of wine as we speak. (Okay, we’re not speaking, I’m aggressively banging the keys on my MacBook.)

But it’s allowing me to NGAF and that’s why you’re still reading this.

Whereas if I were sober… 🙄 Well alas darling, the eloquence would certainly be of utmost importance.

Magniloquence is for Shakespeare and Dickens. Internet 2019 is about relating to people through computer screens and holding their ever-shortening attention as you do it.

“I Shall Call You Writer’s Juice” (a Photo by Danielle Owen)

2. White Wine

For when red wine is too hot and you need something a little more ‘Brr’ and blanco.

3. Travel

Yes, this is one is semi-specific because I write about travel for a living. And being able to write first-hand about destinations is quite a bit more effective than sitting behind a computer and researching those same locales.

But traveling full-time for the past four years has grown my writing abilities in other ways — ways that are becoming more clear to me all the time. (Beyond the ability to bang out a killer destination guide.)

For starters, one of the greatest exercises in writing is experiencing novel things and attempting to put them into written words.

“How can I convey what this tea plantation in Sri Lanka is like to someone who has never been? What color green are those hills? Are they undulating? No, overused. What’s another word for undulating? Wow, look at the wrinkles on that woman’s face. She’s clearly spent decades in the sun. I’ll try to talk to her once we’re done — I bet she has an interesting story to share. Holy crap, that SMELL of those fermenting tea leaves. It’s like we just dove into the world’s strongest teapot. Is that the best way to describe it? No, not strong enough. It’s like they could use the air in here instead of anesthesia during surgery….”

Okay, might’ve overdone it, but hopefully you get the point. Having constant new experiences has been so vital for me as a writer. It’s through my journals and emails to my family (not professional writing) that I’ve truly had to dive into the depths of my vocabulary and imagination to try to describe those experiences to the best of my ability for my future self and loved ones to enjoy.