I’ve always called myself a writer though I prefer the term wordsmith—someone who relishes, rearranges, juggles, weaves, unpacks, spins, shapes, combines, crafts, concocts and choreographs words. No wonder I’m so tired.
Until recently, I’ve considered writing and storytelling to be virtually synonymous—both involve crafting words, after all. It’s easy to see they’re interdependent; a beautifully crafted sentence can elevate an ordinary story into something unforgettable, but even the best story can fall flat if the writing doesn’t live up to it. But there’s a significant distinction, both conceptual and practical, between writing and storytelling (and authoring, while we’re in the vicinity). I learned this only recently when I felt stuck in a creative loop, searching for a spark of innovation but finding only echoes of earlier musings.
Good Writing: The Foundation
Writing is more than putting words together; it’s about clarity, structure and the construction of thoughts and ideas. To extend the building metaphor: writing is excavating the site, pouring the footings and framing the dwelling (walls, windows and roof); it doesn’t say much, if anything, about the interior. Writing is versatile in style, voice, aim, perspective and audience. It also varies in type—there’s creative, technical, academic, dramatic, business and content writing, for example. This diversity is what makes the world of words such a colourful and vibrant place to visit.
Good Storytelling: The Heart
Storytelling is all about immersion and emotional connection. Good storytelling entices visitors to knock on the front door and enter, unsure of what awaits, but eager to discover what’s going on inside the house. Storytelling takes place between the lines—the hero’s quest, the dissection of a relationship, the unravelling of a mystery. A good storyteller knows how to make readers hear laughter echoing in the halls and arguments over dinner, relish moments of solitude, feel tension build and delve into suspense.
A Personal Journey
I’ve been writing in one form or another my whole life, but I only really started writing for myself—creatively, with purpose—about ten years ago. That’s when I reached breaking point after spending far too long in the family business (coincidentally, a property development and construction company). With a few published books to my name, I began calling myself an author. But something about that term didn’t quite sit right with me. It seemed too focused on the end product—the published work (though I realise one doesn’t have to be published to be an author) and the accolades. That’s the achievement part of the equation, and not why I write.
For me, writing is all about process. Although the craft of writing is essential, I’ve always been drawn to the art of writing—creativity, expression and emotional connection, which in my writing comes from a place of intuition. This mini-epiphany has made me ponder who I’m writing for and why. At the risk of building metaphor overkill: Lately, I’ve been spending too much time trying to make my house look beautiful for passersby, but the front door is broken and there’s hardly any furniture inside.
I’m leaning into (I hate that term but I’m using it anyway) what I’ve always suspected: I’m a storyteller first and a writer second. For over six decades, I’ve been writing in some capacity across art forms and for diverse audiences. But what made me leave my ‘day job’ to focus on writing as a serious pursuit was storytelling—interrogating the many questions and quandaries of the human condition, whether on paper, in person, on stage or screen. In an industry that insists artists choose a market (and ideally, to stick with it), I often bend genres because the tales I tell don’t fit into a neat category or age group. If they did, I probably wouldn’t want to write them.
The Writing-Storytelling-Author Dance
As writers, we’re like builders—we create, shape, fix, and refine. We lay down ideas, craft characters, adjust timelines, and work through plot holes. But as storytellers, we bring those elements to life, crafting narratives that linger long after the last page is turned. I’ve toyed with calling myself a ‘writer-storyteller’, but that moniker seems wordy and potentially redundant. And I’ve worked too hard and too long to be made redundant anytime soon (*she says optimistically*).
So, storyteller it is, and with good reason. Ultimately, writing sets the stage but it is storytelling that brings us together.