Writing, being able to write… Since the invention of writing, humanity has written countless times, produced works, and conveyed thoughts to others. In my view, one of the fundamental elements playing a leading role in human self-development is writing itself. Of course, I say this as an ordinary student who practices it as a hobby. Calling myself a “writer” would be rather arrogant; such a title is not mine to claim. Instead, I find it more fitting to describe myself as someone who produces content on a modest scale. In my humble opinion, the act of writing holds an important place in an individual’s development, broadening one’s horizons and enriching the world of thought. I am writing this piece as the final article of 2025, on a snowy winter day.
Writing Matures You
Like many renowned writers and thinkers, I believe that writing matures people seasons them, so to speak. I have experienced this firsthand. I remember the stories and compositions I wrote in middle school. They lacked a proper plot and conflict. While everyone else wrote one or two pages, I would pour whatever crowded my mind onto the paper and end up with four or five pages. Yes, pour is not quite the word; I was vomiting them onto the page. Anything gentler would be inaccurate. I think this stemmed from my relatively expansive imagination (this is where I won’t pretend to be modest). Original, eccentric, and curious ideas came to mind. While my friends wrote ordinary stories, I was thinking up ideas that could perhaps span an entire book. And that was precisely the problem: I was trying to compress an idea worthy of a book into just a few pages. As a result, what I wrote was less a fully formed story than a scattered summary of several distinct drafts.
Still, I was never ashamed of what I wrote, and I kept writing. Because there were things—constantly—being constructed in my mind. I use the word things deliberately, because I still don’t quite know what to call them. When explaining them to others, I say that I have certain fictional constructions in mind, some novel ideas. This has been the case since childhood. While people thought about their lessons, their jobs, their lives, I felt through my characters, I lived with them, almost forming bonds with them. As I grew older, I noticed that these constructions became more grounded, more logical, more systematic. Later, I learned that I wasn’t alone in experiencing this; in the literature, it is referred to as Maladaptive Daydreaming. After some research, however, I concluded that I didn’t fully fit this definition, since the narratives and imaginings in my mind didn’t disrupt my daily life—on the contrary, they nourished it.
When I eventually began putting these somewhat more mature ideas into writing and sharing them with others, I realized something important: I would never be a writer, but I could write more or less. I had some degree of talent. As I wrote more and received criticism, I felt myself improving. Looking back at my old texts, novel drafts, and earlier stories, I can clearly see it now: writing had matured me. I was able to express my thoughts more clearly, and most importantly, I could witness this process myself. That realization brings a profound sense of confidence and happiness.
Personal Development and Writing
Writing makes a wonderful contribution to our personal development. Some may ask, “If it contributes so much, why do you see yourself as small or insufficient?” The truth is, this is like an endless marathon. You never really know where the finish line is—what you can know is how far you’ve come along the way. Moreover, writing helps you grow, but it does not automatically turn you into a writer. Becoming a writer requires far more than that. Personally, I divide people into four categories in terms of writing ability:
- Below average
- Amateur/inexperienced writers
- Professional writers
- Masters
If I say that the first group makes up the majority of society, I wouldn’t be making an unfair judgment. Both in the world at large and in our country, many people cannot express their thoughts clearly and systematically. If you handed them a pen or set them in front of a keyboard and asked them to write a simple essay or blog post, I’m sure many wouldn’t be able to produce anything substantial within an hour. Even what they do write is often riddled with awkward phrasing, spelling mistakes, and punctuation errors. And even if we overlook those, they still fail to present a basic flow of thought. They simply cannot transfer what is in their minds to the reader.
Amateur and inexperienced writers—myself included—can sometimes produce average, or occasionally above-average, works. Even if their vocabulary is limited, they can use the words they know efficiently and weave them into the text. At the very least, there is something readable on the page, a transmission of thought. As they write regularly and are exposed to criticism, they improve and begin to develop a style of their own. Some go even further and turn into professionals. They become competent at this craft and earn the right to be called writers. Others continue producing at this level. Inexperienced writers can recognize one another and can also distinguish good work from bad.
The third category consists of those we encounter in Turkish essays, whose books we buy, whose names we hear in magazines. Their writerly identities are well established; their pens are recognizable. They know what they want to say and write accordingly. When I compare myself to them, I clearly see how far behind I still am. Yet even they cannot compete with the masters who have carved their names into history. Despite this, some unconscious or arrogant writers dare to compare themselves with such masters.
Masters are those who contribute to humanity’s legacy, shape civilization, and guide societies. To become a master, talent alone is not enough—you also need a powerful drive, a spark. Sitting comfortably at home, sipping tea, will never make us writers. We must face misfortune, endure hardship, and taste every emotion. Only then do we stand a chance, however small, of becoming a writer.
In the End
Reading masters and professional writers gives us new perspectives, forces us to think, and broadens our horizons. In the same way, writing allows us to express ourselves more clearly. It enables us to channel our emotions into text. Knowing that the images in our minds have tangible counterparts undoubtedly matures us. Someone who writes regularly is making one of the greatest investments in themselves. Rather than reading hollow personal development books, I would prefer to write a few paragraphs.
“Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man.”
Bacon