The Secret Scroll: Why You Should Write a Book No One Will Read

I wasn’t able to finish writing an entire fantasy novel until my mid-thirties. I’ve been dabbling in writing since my early teens, but it was a short story here, a few chapters there—mostly just a string of beginnings doomed to never reach an end.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. In fact, it’s one of the most common struggles beginner writers face.

There’s often a wide gap between the desire to write and the discipline required to actually sit down and do it. And even once you’ve built the habit, it’s one thing to write—and something else entirely to finish a book.

But all of that changed for me during Covid. For a short time, I was out of work and suddenly had a lot of free time on my hands—time I decided to dedicate to writing. There was a story I had started a while back that had gotten stuck, one I’d always wished I could finish. I decided this was the time to finally make that happen.

Reading it was rough. What had once seemed like a brilliant idea in my head turned out to be a total pile of fairy droppings on the page. It was bad—the characters, their motivations, the plot—just all-over-the-place bad.

But I chose to finish it anyway. Not to fix it, not to rewrite it, just to see it through to the end. And the thing that made it possible—the one decision that set this attempt apart from all the others—was this: I decided no one would ever read it but me.

If you’re wondering why so many writers never finish their manuscripts, look no further than the pugly face of the fear of failure.

The desire to create our own tiny universes is what brings us to the keyboard—but the fear of failure, of criticism, of not being good enough, is what freezes our fingers, and eventually, our minds.

This is where the dream (writing your book) crashes into reality (the very real chance it won’t be a New York Times best seller).

So yes, it’s possible you’re not as good as you think—but that’s something that can change with practice, effort, and a willingness to improve.

The real problem is that you’ll never get that practice, never hear the feedback you might need, and never get the chance to grow unless you actually write.

This is where the secret book comes in—a story you write just for yourself.

The idea that you’re writing something just for your eyes is incredibly freeing—it strips away the fear of criticism. Imagine not having to worry if your book is bad, if it’s cliche, if your characters are flat or your plot downright boring.

What if none of that mattered?

How would you feel? I’m going to guess: like a massive sigh of relief.

But it gets even better. Take it a step further—decide not only that no one will ever read this secret book, but that it’s going to be intentionally bad.

Now you’re free to resolve any tricky plot point with the sudden appearance of a magical dragon-bee and name your magical kingdom Poopaldia. Just let your imagination run absolutely amok.

At this point, you might be wondering—what’s the point?

How can writing something bad, something no one else will ever read or critique, possibly help you improve?

Well, pull up a chair—I’ve got more than one answer for you.

You’ll overcome your writer’s block

Right now, your creativity lives in a cage—one built from everything you think people will approve of. But if there’s not one to judge your work, no audience to impress or disappoint, the cage disappears. What’s left is you, face to face with your raw, unfiltered creativity.

If it’s fear of failure that’s got your fingers suspended in mid-air over the keyboard, leaving the page blank—the secret book approach can be exactly what sets your writing free.

You’ll finally finish writing a book

If you’ve never made it to “The End” before, completing a book—even a secret one that’s a total load of nonsense—is a major milestone. Most people never get that far.

But once you’ve done it, you’ve proven it’s possible.

The secret book becomes your trial run, your personal proof of concept. And now that you’ve crossed the finish line once, you know you can do it again.

New ideas will be born

When you give yourself permission to be bad, you tap into your real creative core—and ideas will start to flow. Granted, some might be bad initially, but not all of them.

While you’re busy writing the ridiculous, you’re also building a skill. And somewhere in all that chaos, you’ll discover that a few of those “bad ideas” are actually not bad at all. They might even be the spark for your next, far less ridiculous book.

You’ll gain real experience

Once you’ve written an entire book, you start to notice things—patterns, pacing, flow. You begin to understand how and when to wrap up events, and how to bring threads to a satisfying close.

You don’t get a feel for that by only writing beginnings. It’s easy to start something, ramble a bit, and then abandon it. But when you’re forced to tie up every loose end—even the messy ones—you learn how to transition from beginning to middle, and from middle to end. And that’s where real growth happens.

Conclusion

So there you have it—not the usual writing advice, but hopefully a fresh perspective, and maybe even a spark of motivation to go write the crappiest book ever written.

Remember—bad writing is still writing—and it’s the only kind that ever gets better.

Now, close this tab (but maybe consider subscribing before you do so), put your fingers on the keyboard, and start writing!