The 5% of Writing That Is Visible
Writing is often thought of as style. In reality, style is only the tip of the iceberg.
When I decided to start writing, I was aware of one thing: I possessed only a small fraction of the skills required. Perhaps five percent. The desire to tell a story, a narrative intuition… and that was about it. Everything else would have to be learned.
This does not mean that writing is reserved for an elite. I say this plainly: anyone capable of thinking can learn to write. Unless there is a genuine neurological impairment, writing is a skill that develops through method, patience, and rigor. Saying this does not diminish the difficulty of the craft—on the contrary, it highlights how demanding it truly is.
The Visible 5% of Writing
At first, what I noticed was the surface: sentences, style, the “beautiful text.”
That is natural. It is the most visible part, so it is assumed to be the most important.
But very quickly, I understood that style alone is not enough to hold a story together.
The Invisible Skills
As I progressed, I discovered what I had not seen at the beginning:
levels of language, stylistic characteristics, narrative tone.
Writing is not only about producing grammatically correct sentences; it is about making precise choices. In my case, this meant a fluid, accessible, expressive, and nuanced narration, carried by an overall positive fantastical tone.
Above all, it became clear that correcting mistakes was not enough. I also had to:
- avoid heaviness,
- vary dialogue structures,
- clearly separate ideas,
- master verb tenses,
- ensure temporal consistency,
- verify structural logic and the sequence of events.
Added to this was the overall organization of the story: chapters, subchapters when necessary, and the rhythm of the text. And in the case of light novels, a specific narrative culture—a subject I address elsewhere.
Building the Foundations
Before truly writing, I spent several months building what is not always visible but supports everything else: the world, the map, the rules of magic, and the internal logic of the universe.
I used digital tools to centralize my notes, structure my ideas, and track the chronology of events—not because the reader would consciously notice, but because invisible coherence strengthens immersion.
Character Consistency
Finally, I understood the crucial importance of characters: their psychological profiles, strengths, weaknesses, ways of speaking, reacting, and thinking.
All of this had to be coherent, verifiable, and consistent. A character is believable only if they act in accordance with who they are.
A Concrete Mistake I Made at the Beginning
At first, I made a very simple—and very common—mistake: I wanted to “write well” in every sentence. The result was that some scenes became too heavy, too explanatory, or lost their rhythm.
Over time, I learned that a chapter must breathe:
sometimes a sentence needs to be beautiful; sometimes it simply needs to be clear, fast, and effective. Style is not something you add afterward—it is a consequence of a mastered structure.
My Personal Strengths
It was at this stage that my two true strengths came into play:
my background in computer science and my perfectionism.
These strengths gave me the foundation needed to confidently engage in a broader journey—one made of reading, experimentation, mistakes, and a gradual transition from the role of reader to that of creator.
I developed my own tools to control coherence, verify my choices, and maintain consistent quality from one chapter to the next.
Conclusion
Today, my writing progresses because I no longer repeat the same mistakes. Each book builds upon the lessons of the previous one. Writing is not about having talent from the start. It is about accepting to build, layer by layer.
In this perspective, certain tools can help structure the learning process—provided they are used with method and discernment.
And you, what foundations did you lay before you started writing?