Writing Update #5 – Forming a Writing Identity (Nov 2025)

This writing update is part of the rubric “Musings of the Awakened Writing Soul”. The Musings document my journey into the creative realm where I (re)discover my writing powers, form and develop a distinct creative voice, and remind myself of the true meaning of writing and creativity. All of this, while proving that writing and creativity can be an integral part of an already dynamic life in today’s reality. The Musings are also for you – those on a similar creative journey who want to connect and feel like someone gets it; those full of self-doubt and not believing it is worth it; or simply those old souls who enjoy reading deep, reflective content while sipping a hot drink on a cozy Sunday afternoon. Let the Musings make you believe in yourself and in goodness a bit more, and give you wings to fly into the enchanting kingdom of creativity.

What you can expect to see in this update:

1. Do you really need a writing identity statement – the benefits
2. Four questions to start off this creative exercise
3. My 3-pillar writing identity
4. Delving into further details – themes, voice, tone, writing structure

Introduction

Welcome to writing update #5 – can’t believe there are 5 such posts already! The streak has been going on for some months, despite fluctuating discipline and elusive inspirations, and I’m honestly quite proud of that. I sincerely hope it will continue in the same good spirit going forward. At the end of my last update, I was brave enough to share my writing identity statement, and I promised to describe further how beneficial this introspective exercise was to me. So here I am fulfilling this promise, and I hope you might find it useful, although it might turn out to be a long post. I will zoom in on my process and brainstorming, and give some idea about why this might help your creativity, or at least lead you to better understand your own creative personality.

You Don’t Need a Writing Identity Statement

Before I delve into it, I want to make a small disclaimer: you don’t need to have a writing identity statement, or even to know what you like to write or why you do it, as long as you enjoy it and keep at it. When I first started as a 13-year-old girl in Bulgaria, writing was one of those simple joys. I enjoyed entertaining my mind by making up some stories just for the fun of it. Sometimes it was triggered by an intriguing book that awoke the creative feeling. (I was reading much more back then.) Or often none of the books I had read would satisfy the longing for a certain storyline. In these instances, nothing was enough but sitting down and writing it myself. This led me to write fan fiction sometimes, even. I’d take the skeleton and story arc from a favorite book or short story and reimagine it with my own style, characters, storyline, plot twists, and ending. I obviously didn’t create these works with a specific purpose or for the public. (I might not even keep them anymore, in fact.) At the time, my mind had the space and need for it, so I kept going.

Why You Might Want a Writing Identity Statement

But why do I need to define my writing identity now? Naturally, I went through an enormous number of changes since that time in Bulgaria. As we grow and mature, this innocent childish idea of wonders and creation and of play and discovery shifts. Everything just somehow becomes more complicated and not so straightforward. I had to jump a bit too fast on the trampoline of adulthood when I first moved to another country, at the opposite end of Europe (it’s not that far, I know, but it felt this way). This inevitably created another layer of complexity for my creativity. The way I perceived things just kept changing like a speeding train until, at some point, it felt impossible to come back to the origin of my creativity. I won’t bore you with details here, as I have told this story in another post before.

Delving deeper into my own source of creativity felt like a logical and comforting step to reinvent and rediscover this spark within, but now as an established 27-year-old legal professional with several years of working experience and enough adult responsibilities. Maybe the biggest perk about adulthood, which we never realize, is this ability of the maturing mind to search for complexity and find all the answers and hidden truths within. Hence, for those looking to find their hidden creativity, meaning, and deeper inspiration, or to rekindle things in general, defining the writing identity is just a brilliant mind game. For the record, I also made several attempts to keep things simple – writing just for fun like I used to, trying different things and experiments. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, when writing stops being just fun and games (because it’s also a skill requiring discipline and perseverance), what moves me to keep coming back to it, even after so many years. What makes me want to devote time, on the side of all the daily stuff I’m juggling, to something that might not even amount to anything tangible in the end? Defining my writing identity helped me understand this better.

My Writing Identity Statement

Without further ado, let’s just get down to business. We start with the statement itself, which I already shared previously:

I (strive to) write emotionally relatable mystery adventure stories with a sprinkle of mythical and fantasy elements. These are tales of imperfect heroes facing destiny, fear, and love, uncovering truths about themselves and the world. My writing is a blend of lyrical reflections and cinematic action, realism, and mystique. It invites readers to feel, connect, and remember long after the story ends.

This statement obviously includes several informative details and defines the shape and frame of the writing identity – the genre of the stories (mystery adventure stories, mythical, fantasy elements), the main themes and motifs (imperfect heroes, facing destiny, fear, love, uncovering truths) and the type of writing and voice (lyrical reflections, cinematic action, realism, mystique). But making a writing identity statement is not all about telling the world what you write; it’s also focused on the “why”. The statement hints at the emotional reality behind the writing process, which is the heart of it (emotionally relatable, invites the reader to feel, connect, and remember).

A Few Starting Points

When I first brainstormed this exercise (you can see picture below of my brain dump), I tried tackling the “easy wins” upfront – what genre might interest me most, what topics, themes, tropes, am I more into structured writing or just winging it as it comes, character focused or plot focused etc. (numbers 5-8 on the picture). Let me tell you, I was struggling with it, nothing clicked, and I felt even more lost. I used to write mystery stories, so I guessed I could try my hand at it again, but it wasn’t even about the genre or the topics. There was something deeper that just needed to be unleashed. So, I added the questions right above (numbered 1-4 on the pictures).

1. If people one day were to know me as a writer, what stories would I be associated with?
2. What do I desire to create most (where was my compass pointing)?
3. What legacy would I leave behind, if I’m remembered years later?
4. What does the heart really pull towards, and which genre does this fit?

The 3 Pillars of My Writing Identity

There were 3 pillars that formed from these questions, which by themselves answered the fourth question and wrapped everything together neatly. In this way, the heart and base of my writing identity statement were formed. I trust you with the answers to these questions below for the sake of being useful and showing how good this exercise was.

1. I want to be associated with stories that are heroic, adventurous, brave, fearless, deep, reflective, compassionate, and emotional. Stories showing both the heroic side and human imperfection. (Key words here: emotionally resonant heroism, courage, heart, imperfection, depth)
2. I desire to create stories that come from the heart, that allow readers to connect and relate to the characters, stories that can be felt and remind the reader about their own emotions, let them reflect, stories that feel like a cozy companion and consolation. (Key words here: connection, reflection, feeling of understanding, touching the soul)
3. I wish that I could one day be remembered for the unique characters or storylines I created that act as an epitome of something. For instance, everyone knows Sherlock Holmes as the epitome of the detective, or even an adjective of someone genius, uncovering truths and solving puzzles. Another example – Agatha Christie is known as the Queen of Crime because she wrote the most intricate mysteries. I hope that my characters or stories stand the test of time (even if known only by a niche of people). (Key words here: legacy, figure or plot so vivid and human that it outlives time)

Reading the answers to the questions, you can naturally notice an emerging pattern, connecting dots into a fuller picture. Emotion was the centerpiece of this puzzle. All my writing is tied to deeper meaning and feelings (answer number 2). You could also notice the topics/themes of interest (answer number 1). And of course, the desired endgame of making a difference long term, although this might feel common to all writers, isn’t it?! (answer number 3). What genre could fit the above elements and be a proper expression tool for the emotion behind my writing? I figured a mystery or adventure story structure would be best, since it would allow the characters to unravel both the external enigma and their own inner truth in parallel. Emotionally charged mystery with a touch of the extraordinary (mythical, fantastical) but anchored in realism (detectives, adventures, puzzles, cases).

Moving On to the Details – Theme, Motifs, Tone, Voice

From then on, everything else fell into place smoothly. The themes and motifs were easy to come by (even if I had just pulled up a list of the most common themes per genre and ticked the box). But from the answers it was all already clear – the themes of destiny, purpose, strength v vulnerability (brave yet imperfect), permission to be both strong and soft (relatable human behavior), isolation v belonging (yearning to be understood and to connect), courage despite fear (feeling deeply and acting anyway), redemption (getting emotional closure and understanding of oneself).

The tone and voice question was also intuitive – reflection (inner voice of introspection on the background) and cinematic contrast (action that moves the plot forward and leads to the discovery of truth while keeping the story alive and dynamic). If there was one thing that has stuck with me all these years in one form or another, ever since I first started writing, that is the tone and voice of my writing. You can already notice how reflective these writing updates are by themselves, but I also have the desire to include some action (you’d see this more in my travelogues still to come).

Are You a Planner, Pantser or Plantser?

Last, but not least (although that was not explicitly included in my writing identity statement), I also spent some time discovering my writing structure and values. Simply said, the famous topic of planner (systematic writer), pantser (intuitive writer), or plantser (mixed). I never really gave it much importance before, but the exercise was never going to be complete without this aspect of the writing process. Turns out I am a pantser/intuitive writer with a safety net. As it became evident from the above answers, I write from emotion; it all begins with an inner spark/character moment, i.e., intuitively. But I also like to build a rough skeleton around this intuitiveness as an orientation tool (not to lose my way in all that emotion). An outline comforts me, but it does not control; the story flows by itself, and I follow. Once revision time comes, the structure becomes clearer and more tangible.

Last Lines

All of the abovementioned combined is also the reason why I find it so hard to write detective mysteries according to formulas and why characters, as emotional creatures, are central and prevail over plotting. I’d rather create one meaningful, deep thing rather than a ton of surface-level stories (hence, the slow burn with my writing process and the long, endless updates). I’ve always been led by the principle that my stories are not just for display or performance but a tool of connection with an anonymous reader. Even though the writing identity statement might change in the future as my writing evolves and my process gets more defined, I believe some core principles that I mentioned above will likely remain consistent. Still, take everything I said above with a small disclaimer that a writing identity is not something rigid, something set in stone. It’s merely a compass towards inspiration and creativity.

This update turned out indeed very long, compared to all others, but I do hope that you can get something good from my little reflections and conundrums. If you have ever tried a similar exercise or you’d like to share something more personal about your reasons for being creative, feel free to let me know, as always.

Until next time,

D.D.N.