If You Are Waiting To Be Right, You Can’t Write -By Isaac Asabor

In the world of writing, one of the most paralyzing traps is the idea that you must first be “right” before you begin. That everything must be perfect, the facts, the grammar, the tone, the message, even the mood, before you dare to touch the keyboard or pick up the pen. But here is the uncomfortable truth: if you are waiting to be right, you can’t write.

This is not just a clever turn of phrase. It is a hard lesson every writer or aspiring writers must confront. Whether you are a journalist trying to pen an opinion or a feature article, a novelist crafting fiction, or a student struggling with an essay, waiting to be “right” often becomes a lifelong excuse. It is the excuse that kills more ideas than criticism ever could.

The need to be right is a subtle form of perfectionism, and perfectionism is procrastination in a tuxedo. It dresses itself up as noble, but in reality, it is fear masquerading as caution. Without a doubt, the understanding of the foregoing rule of writing might had compelled Louis L’Amour to quotably say, “Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”

If you want to become a writer and an expert of whatever genre of writing, you must always have it at the back of your mind that writing is a Journey, an art that does not require to be done hastily or without much thought. To aptly put it, it is not a dash off.

As you travel along, improvement comes. For the sake of clarity, this writer started writing for the media almost two decades ago by frequently writing on “Letter To The Editor” Columns of various newspapers in those days, though most contemporary newspapers are devoid of such column, but choosing to be writing short opinion articles to contemporary publishers of both online and offline media platforms is also a good way to master the art of writing.

You do not have to be right to begin writing. You just have to be willing. Willing to explore. Willing to be honest. Willing to be wrong, and to grow from that process. The greatest writers did not arrive at their wisdom before they wrote. They discovered it as they wrote.

The blank page does not ask for perfection. It asks for presence. You do not climb a mountain by waiting at the base until you are sure you will not slip. You climb by taking the first step. So too with writing. When you continue to wait for your tenses to be grammatically accurate, then the fear of being wrong becomes a cage, and you would end up not writing.

Let us face it, many writers do not write because they are afraid of being called out. They fear criticism, judgment, misinterpretation, or even cancellation. So they wait. And wait. And wait. Until the passion fades and the ideas die quietly in the back of their minds.

But the truth is this: you will never be 100% right. Someone will always disagree. Someone will always misread. And yes, sometimes, you will get it wrong. But writing is not a final verdict, it is a contribution to an ongoing conversation.

You do not have to have the last word. Just the next one. This is as the act of writing is well accomplished by rewriting.  Here is a truth every seasoned writer understands: the first draft is never the final answer. The first draft is messy. It is flawed. It is clumsy and incomplete, and that is exactly what it is supposed to be.

If you are waiting for the perfect sentence before you write the first one, you will be waiting forever. Some of the most profound essays, op-eds, and even books began with weak openings and uncertain ideas. But once on paper, they were shaped, refined, revised, and transformed. This is because you cannot fix what does not exist. So write the wrong words first, so you can write the right ones later.

In fact, writing is not about certainty. It is about clarity.  Good writing is not a product of certainty. It is the pursuit of clarity. And clarity comes through the act of writing, not before it.

Some of the best articles I have ever written started with confusion. I was not sure what I thought. I did not have a final opinion. But as I wrote, I began to see more clearly. The words became a mirror to my own mind. The fog lifted, not because I waited for it to clear, but because I walked into it.

If you are a writer, especially a journalist or commentator in Nigeria, you must realize this: you do not need to be the moral compass of the world before you speak. You do not need to hold a Ph.D. in everything. What you need is honesty, empathy, and the courage to speak, even if your voice trembles.

In fact, let us in this context address a core dilemma many writers face: how do you tell the truth without sounding harsh? How do you balance honesty with humanity? The answer is not to dilute the truth, but to frame it with care. Truth delivered with arrogance alienates; truth delivered with empathy resonates.

You can write critically about government failure, societal ills, or personal struggles, without stripping people of their dignity. A good writer is not a judge in a courtroom. He or she is a guide through complexity, and need to be sharp with ideas, but soft with people.

Writing as a Healing Tool. It is not only about reporting, persuading, or entertaining. It is also deeply healing. When you pour your fears, regrets, doubts, and hopes onto the page, something magical happens, you unburden yourself. You process pain. You find language for what once felt unspeakable.

In a country like Nigeria, where many suffer in silence, where therapy is often stigmatized or inaccessible, writing can be medicine. A private journal. A blog post. Even a social media caption. Writing allows you to name your experience, and naming it is the first step toward reclaiming power over it. Don’t wait to be “okay” before you write. Write to *become* okay.

At this juncture, it is expedient to highlight the exercises that break the fear of perfection. For writers battling perfectionism, the kind that keeps you stuck in your head, there are proven exercises to unlock the flow, and they cut across freewriting, morning pages, shitty first draft and writing prompts. For the sake of clarification, freewriting entails setting a timer for10 minutes and write whatever comes to mind. No editing. No judgment. Just pure thought, morning pages, inspired by Julia Cameron, is the practice which involves writing three longhand pages first thing in the morning. It clears the clutter and kick starts creativity. Shitty First Drafts is the art of embracing the idea that your first draft will be terrible. That is okay. It is a starting point, not a statement of your ability. Writing Prompts, on its own, uses prompts to bypass mental blocks. Start with “I feel stuck because…” or “The last time I wrote freely was when…” These tools break the chains of needing to be right before you begin.

Again, as a writer you should stop performing. Instead, start connecting. Too often, writers write to impress, not to connect. Every sentence is calculated for applause, not authenticity. But writing that performs is rarely writing that transforms. Readers do not need your polish. They need your “presence”. They need your truth, not your posture. Let go of the need to be praised or perfect. Just be real.

Your words do not have to be clever. They have to be clear. They do not have to be flawless. They have to be felt.

The Nigerian writer, journalist, or poet waiting for the perfect moment to speak will find himself left behind. The conversation is already happening. The story is unfolding. The people are listening.

You do not need to have it all figured out. You do not need to be validated by institutions. You do not need to be “right.” You just need to write. So stop waiting. The blank page does not need your perfection. It needs your participation. Because if you are waiting to be right, you can’t write.