Deliberate Practice for Writers and Poets
It took me many years to get to this understanding: no one is born a poet or writer, or anything. We train ourselves to be a poet or writer, or whatever it is that we want to be. Of course, talent has a role to play. But only initially. Talent, a predisposition, a privileged background, pushy parents, all of those things may make it easier but they will not result in success.
Like many other writers, I have often imagined growth as something mysterious — a sudden breakthrough, a lightning bolt of inspiration, a sentence that arrives fully formed. But the deeper truth, the one that I have learnt the hard way, is that growth is not an accident or a fluke.
It is a practice. A deliberate one.
The breakthrough came for me when I started reading biographies of famous writers and poets, and what they did to achieve success. Second was immersion in literature that guides you through that process of deliberate practice.
Deliberate practice is not glamorous. It is not always satisfying. It asks you to stretch beyond what you can currently do, to sit with discomfort, to revise with intention, to return to the page even when the work feels stubborn or strange. But it is also the most reliable path to mastery, and, more importantly, to meaning.
Being a keen note taker, I recently went through my notes and tried to distil my learnings into a list of key takeaways. (a longer version of this post is available on my website, as well as the key books that have helped me arrive at these conclusions)
1. The mindset that makes growth possible
Brendon Burchard calls it the role model mindset: the belief that your actions matter, that you can challenge yourself, and that you can become someone others look to for courage. For writers, this begins with refusing to shrink your ambitions. It means looking at your goals every day — not as pressure, but as a reminder of the future you’re building.
Daily journaling becomes a tool of self-honesty:
· What do I believe about myself today?
· Is that belief helping me grow?
· If not, what small action can I take today that aligns with who I want to become?
This is not self‑help fluff. It is the psychological foundation of deliberate practice. Adam Grant reminds us that rethinking our assumptions, especially about ourselves, is the beginning of all learning. Chris Bailey adds that attention is trainable. Writers who learn to direct their attention, to return to the work, to stay with a sentence until it reveals itself, are writers who grow.
A morning routine helps: reading, planning, movement. A moment of vocal praise, a poem, a prayer, a line spoken aloud, sets the emotional tone. Tracking progress, even imperfectly, builds momentum.
2. The creative life is collaborative, even when you write alone
Leadership may seem unrelated to writing, but Burchard’s insights apply beautifully to the artistic life. Writers thrive in communities where ideas are exchanged, where feedback is generous, where difficult conversations are held with compassion, understanding, and praise.
People support what they help create. This is true in teams, and it is true in writing groups.
Good creative leadership, whether you’re leading others or leading yourself, involves:
· Asking better questions (the Socratic method)
· Challenging yourself and others with kindness
· Holding space for disagreement without defensiveness
· Seeking collective movement rather than individual victory
Writers grow faster when they are not isolated. When they share drafts. When they ask: Help me understand what you see here. When they debrief failures with trusted peers. When they level up their mentors. I believe that my writing would never have grown as it has if it wasn’t for my writing buddies and my mentors.
3. Purpose is not a luxury — it is fuel
At the very beginning, and regularly throughout my writing life, I come back to the questions: why do I write?
Journaling helps. So does mentoring. So does celebrating small wins with others. And so does asking the questions we usually reserve for the end of life: What truly matters? What do I want to leave behind? Who do I want to thank?
Writers and poets live close to meaning. But meaning must be tended. Letters to loved ones, reflections on mortality and small rituals of gratitude keep the work anchored in something larger than achievement. Purpose steadies the hand.
4. Energy is the foundation of all creative work
Almost every writer I’ve encountered, be they a creative artist or a motivational guide, stressed the importance of energy. Twyla Tharp, the famous dancer and choreographer, insists that creativity is physical. Nick Cave reminds us that art is devotional. And both are right. You cannot write well if you are depleted.
Burchard directs us towards ‘MEDS’: meditation, exercise, diet, sleep. They are the infrastructure of attention and imagination. Then he adds the ‘RX’: relationships and the X‑factor of supplementation or support.
Most agree on:
· A 3‑2‑1 sleep routine:
o 3 hours before bed: stop eating
o 2 hours before bed: stop work
o 1 hour before bed: stop using screens
· A to‑do list written the night before
· Proactive breaks
· Breathwork throughout the day
· Surrounding themselves with positive, energising people
· Being responsible for the energy they bring into a room
Elizabeth Gilbert would add: fear will always be there, but it doesn’t get to run the show. But energy is not just physical; it is also emotional. The meaning you attach to your emotions shapes your creative stamina, so ensure to have positive energy in your life, be that a nice song, a favourite book, or a favourite person. Every day. At least one of these should make your day.
5. Confidence is built through action, not belief
Self‑doubt is normal. But it is not a verdict. It is just a signal. And confidence can be built:
· Deciding to get better
· Practising repeatedly
· Taking one small step of integrity
· Building self‑trust over time
· Gaining clarity about who you want to be
· Learning the skills your next level requires
· Adding value to others
· Debriefing failures with honesty
· Seeking better mentors
6. Focus is a creative superpower
Writers often think they lack discipline. However, more often, they lack structure.
Focus grows when you:
· Check the major areas of your life (health, relationships, finances, mission, learning)
· Identify the three weakest areas and strengthen them
· Plan your days, weeks, months and years
· Optimise your energy
· Use triggers and rewards to build habits
· Capture daily learnings in a journal
· Ask: Who needs me to show up with my A‑game today?
James Clear would say: habits are identity in motion. Writers become writers by writing — consistently, intentionally, imperfectly.
7. What deliberate practice looks like for writers and poets
Deliberate practice is not comfortable, not always fun; it is often low on satisfaction and high on effort. But it works.
For writers, it means:
1. Write and revise with the reader in mind
2. Do something you cannot yet do
3. Find a mentor or become your own coach
4. Don’t work for too long
5. Take breaks
6. Keep going
And above all: get outside your comfort zone.
8. A personal example: the cardigan
I recently knitted a cardigan with a hood.
If you know me, you know I am not naturally gifted with my hands. I lack fine motor skills. I have no hand‑eye coordination. My scarves look like they escaped from a Tim Burton set. For years, I knitted in secret, embarrassed by my lack of talent.
But I’m no longer ashamed of being ‘untalented.’
I knit because it brings me joy, because creating something with my hands — even something lopsided — is a small act of devotion. Because practice, even when it doesn’t lead to beauty, still leads to meaning.
And that is the heart of deliberate practice.
You don’t do it to prove your talent.
You do it to honour your desire.
You do it because the act itself shapes you.
You do it because showing up — imperfectly, consistently, courageously — is how you grow.
One day, my jumpers will get better.
The practice is the point
When you combine all these ideas, a simple truth emerges:
Writers and poets don’t grow by accident. They grow by returning, again and again, to the page, the practice, the ritual, the intention.
Deliberate practice is not about perfection.
It is about presence.
It is about becoming the person who writes, not just the person who dreams of writing.
And like the cardigan — uneven, earnest, made with love — the work you create will carry the imprint of your effort, your courage, your attention, your devotion.
That is the real art.
Books that have helped me:
The 6 Habits of Growth by Brendon Burchard
Atomic Habits by James Clear
Think Again by Adam Grant
How to Train Your Mind by Chris Bailey
The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert
Faith, Hope and Carnage by Nick Cabe and Sean O’Hagan
The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron
