Words for Sale: How ‘Writing Coaches’ Exploit Aspiring Authors
I am sick-to-fucking-death of the self-proclaimed writing gurus who swear they’re raking in six figures a year from their craft. Spoiler alert: they’re not. At least, not in the way they want you to believe.
They’re not doing it by churning out bestsellers or penning the next great American novel. No, they’re pulling in those fat stacks by selling you the dream of doing exactly that. It’s a con. And it relies on a perfect storm of desperation, hope, and good old-fashioned bullshit.
When did the act of writing become just another get-rich-quick scheme?
It’s a tangled web of technological disruption, economic uncertainty, and our own insatiable hunger for shortcuts to success.
Consider this: In the past, becoming a writer meant years of honing your craft, facing rejection after rejection, and maybe — just maybe — catching a break with a publisher who saw potential in your work. It was a grueling process, sure, but it weeded out the dilettantes and left standing those who truly had something to say.
The barriers to entry have crumbled. Anyone with a laptop and an internet connection can call themselves a writer. And while this democratization of the written word has its upsides, it’s also created a skill vacuum and a content surplus. A vacuum that’s been all too eagerly filled by charlatans promising the moon and delivering, well, moonshine.
The self-styled writing coaches have tapped into something primal in the human psyche. They’re selling more than just courses on plot structure or character development. They’re peddling a fantasy — the idea that with just a few simple tricks, you too can join the hallowed ranks of the six-figure authors.
It’s hard to resist, isn’t it? Especially when you consider the alternative. The reality of the writing life is far less glamorous. It’s countless hours spent staring at a blank page, wrestling with self-doubt, and wondering if anyone will ever give a damn about the words you’re pouring onto the screen. No wonder so many aspiring writers are willing to shell out hundreds, even thousands of dollars for the promise of a shortcut.
But here’s the brutal truth: There are no shortcuts. Not in writing, not in life. The road to success as a writer is long, winding, and paved with the carcasses of abandoned manuscripts and broken dreams. It’s not sexy, it’s not easy, and it sure as hell isn’t something you can package into a neat little online course.
So why do we fall for it? Why do intelligent, talented people keep buying into this bullshit? I like to call it the “Lottery Ticket Syndrome.” It’s the same reason people keep playing the Powerball even when they know the odds are stacked against them. We’re hardwired to believe in the possibility of overnight success, no matter how unlikely.
And these writing “gurus” know it. They’ve become masters at exploiting this cognitive blind spot. They pepper their sales pitches with just enough success stories to keep the dream alive. “Look at Sarah!” they crow. “She was a struggling writer just like you, but after taking my course, she’s now making six figures a year!” What they conveniently leave out is that Sarah’s newfound wealth comes not from her writing, but from shilling the very same course to other desperate souls.
It’s a vicious cycle at best and a filthy fucking pyramid scheme of false hope and empty promises at worst. And it’s having a devastating effect on the writing community as a whole. Instead of focusing on honing their craft, too many aspiring authors are wasting their time and money chasing the mirage of easy success.
But the blame doesn’t lie entirely with these snake oil salesmen. We, as consumers of their bullshit, bear some responsibility too. We’re the ones who keep clicking on those clickbait headlines, who keep signing up for those webinars (God, the very word makes me want to puke), who keep buying those courses. We’re the ones feeding the beast.
While these “gurus” are busy selling their courses, real writers are out there in the trenches, doing the work. They’re getting up at ungodly hours to squeeze in an hour of writing before their day job. They’re sacrificing weekends and social lives to finish that novel. They’re facing rejection after rejection and still coming back for more.
And you know what? Some of them probably are making six figures. I’m not one of them. But I’m sure it happens. The thing is, they’re doing it the old-fashioned way — by writing stuff that people actually want to read. They’re not relying on gimmicks or get-rich-quick schemes. They’re relying on the trifecta of talent, hard work, and a massive dose of sheer fucking luck.
Now, I’m not saying that education and learning are bad things. Far from it. There’s always room for improvement, always new techniques to master. But there’s a world of difference between seeking genuine knowledge and falling for empty promises. It’s the difference between investing in yourself and throwing your money away on snake oil.
Most writers — the vast, vast majority — will never make six figures from their craft.
And that’s okay.
Because contrary to what these “gurus” would have you believe, money isn’t the only measure of success. I’m not arguing for poverty as a virtue, but there is just no easy money in writing. There’s value in the act of creation itself, in the ability to touch someone’s life with your words, to make them think, to make them feel.
But if you are hell-bent on making a living as a writer, then here’s some advice that won’t cost you a dime: Write. Write a lot. Write when you don’t feel like it. Write when you think everything you’re producing is crap. Write, revise, repeat. And when you’re not writing, read. Read everything you can get your hands on, good and bad. Learn from the masters, but also learn from the mistakes of others.
And for the love of all that’s holy, stop buying into the myth of the six-figure writer. Stop giving your hard-earned money to charlatans who promise you the world but deliver nothing but hot air. Instead, invest that money in books, in workshops led by actual successful authors, in experiences that will enrich your writing.
Remember, the path to becoming a successful writer isn’t paved with online courses and “foolproof” systems. It’s paved with words — millions and millions of words. Words that you’ll write, delete, rewrite, and eventually, if you’re lucky and persistent enough, share with the world.
In the end, it all comes down to this: Are you in it for the money, or are you in it for the love of the craft? If it’s the former, well, I’ve got some oceanfront property in Arizona I’d like to sell you. But if it’s the latter, if you’re drawn to writing because you have stories burning inside you that demand to be told, then keep at it. Keep pushing through the doubt, the rejection, the endless revisions. Keep believing in the power of your words.
And who knows? Maybe one day you’ll wake up to find that you’ve joined the ranks of those mythical six-figure writers. But even if you don’t, even if your words never earn you more than a few bucks and the satisfaction of a job well done, you’ll have something far more valuable than any online course could ever provide. You’ll have the knowledge that you stayed true to yourself, that you didn’t fall for the easy lies, that you put in the work and created something real.
That’s what being a writer is all about. Not chasing dollars, not accumulating Twitter followers, not building a “brand.” It’s about having the courage to face the blank page, day after day.
So go ahead, close this essay. Turn off your Wi-Fi if you have to.
And write.
Write like your life depends on it.
Even if your income doesn’t.
