Write What You Know

We’ve all heard the advice ‘Write what you know’. It’s simple, it’s easy to understand, but it’s regularly misinterpreted, and can actually get in your way as a writer.

Just typing that sentence felt a bit blasphemous. How could I possibly have anything against probably the only writing advice EVERYONE has heard, and most of us have followed religiously?

Because it’s that simplicity that leads to misunderstanding. And that misunderstanding often leads to poor choices. Not just in the execution of a story idea, but in choosing the story idea itself.

‘Write what you know’ is too often interpreted as ‘write about something that happened to you.’ But that’s wrong. It is NOT a license to write a movie about a personal experience in a literal sense. I read far too many scripts where a writer has shared an event in their past that was significant to them. They spent countless hours getting a personal and important (to them) anecdote off their chest. They write what they know. This happened, it meant something to me, so automatically it will mean something to you. Because, you know, all that stuff about being authentic.

Sadly, most of the time – that anecdote does not resonate with anyone else. Most of the time that script is dull. It’s an awkward feeling for a reader – you can feel how much this means to the writer, and how little of it translates to strangers who weren’t there or didn’t experience it.

Those scripts fail for two reasons. Both of which, if addressed, can lead to a new draft soaring, or the total abandonment of the idea.

Related: Is “Manipulation” a Good Word for Screenwriters?

As I said, ‘write what you know’ is not intended to be taken literally. It’s intended to speak to your emotional core. It means exploring feelings, relationships, emotions, flaws, traumas and joys that resonate with you. Our lives are constantly evolving. We’re succeeding in work, we’re failing in relationships, we’re battling all sorts of emotional highs and lows all the time. That’s the ‘know’ part of the advice. 

As you learn and grow as a human being with a limited time on earth, use your writing to explore what matters to you at this moment. Because other feelings will mean more in future moments. Just like other stuff mattered way more to a younger version of you. 

Capture your passions, even if it’s grappling with an old trauma. Pour them onto the page. Use them as fuel for a story that may not have anything to do with your life on a surface level. Your story could be about fish. Or a spy, or aliens, or cowboys, or whatever. Because let’s be honest…most of us lead pretty boring lives. We eat, we sleep, we work, we play, we watch TV, we enjoy or fight with our friends and family, blah blah blah. But that doesn’t mean the writers amongst us don’t have incredibly impactful emotional lives that can be transferred into more interesting settings.

I said there were two reasons the literal ‘write what you know’ scripts fail. The first one as a reminder - people take the advice the wrong way, write about some event, it’s boring, no one cares, the script dies. No offense intended by the way – I’m sure your anecdote matters greatly to you, and I fully respect that. But a simple re-telling isn’t enough to engage strangers. Which is the second reason why these scripts implode.

Fear.

The writer gets so focused on the logistics of their life moment, they leave out the stuff I just talked about. All the emotional impact. The writer thinks if they tell the story as it happened – they’re fulfilling the advice, and all is well. But they don’t infuse this tale with any of the emotional power the moment delivered. So the script falls into the old biopic horror of ‘and then this happened, and then this happened, the end.' 

We, the audience are then left with one question. Why did you share this story? What’s in it for us? How can we relate or connect to this emotionally? You’ve given us nothing but the facts. And on their own, devoid of any emotional support – they are dry, dull, boring, tedious facts. The writer is too afraid to really dive into the real reasons this story matters. Because that involves being insanely exposed and vulnerable. Which is the pure gold of writing. If you aren’t willing to dig into all the messy emotional stuff connected with your story – don’t bother writing it. Save us all some time.

Related: Why Your Characters Matter More than You Think They Do

Here's a handy tip as you’re thinking about your next project. Instead of ‘write what you know’, maybe ask yourself to ‘write what you FEEL.’ Think about what aspect of the human condition interests you right now. How are you feeling about life? Worried about your future, in a new love, in an old love that’s dying, scared to make change, grieving a loss, celebrating an arrival, filled with dread, sorrow, pain, happiness, joy?

Focus in on what emotions, or behaviors you want to explore. Yes, we call that subtext. Then, how can you use your personal experiences to delve deeper. How do you tell a compelling story that revolves around those feelings – and has characters fully immersed, forced to confront, and be changed in the time you spend with them, based on your personal experiences with those emotions? Because you’re the only one who has felt your life. The ONLY ONE.

That’s what it means to be authentic as a writer. Authentic to you as a human. That’s what they mean by ‘write what you know’. And above all, that’s the way to dramatically increase your chances of writing something compelling, that truly connects with strangers.