‘Effortless Writing’…Isn’t
The problem with effort is that you can’t see the dang thing

Have you ever read something that just looks utterly effortless — and then had a pang of jealousy? Well, smash that jelly quick — because ‘effortless writing’...isn’t. You’re only seeing the finished product. You didn’t see the rough draft(s) that got a dang glow-up-from-the-toe-up.
I was reminded of the invisibility of effort recently. Someone interviewed me, and one of my colleagues commented on it:
“Robin is hilarious, and I appreciate the effort that goes into making that look effortless.”
His com(pli)ment lives rent-free in my head. So much so that I am writing about it 27 days later.
I didn’t reply to it though. I mean, what raging narcissist would read the comments on their own interview? Eww. Could you imagine what kind of colossal asshat would write an article about a comment a month later? Well, apparently this douchekazoo would — so here I am.
You Simply Don’t See the Effort
Anyone who says their objectively stellar writing is ‘effortless’ is either a liar, or part of an elite upper echelon of writers that I have yet to be privy to. And those people can go step on a Lego. Writing is hard; it’s not a linear line to a finished product, and you only see the final results — not the effort behind them.

I am writing this to anyone who compares themselves to other writers. To anyone who doubts themselves. To those who marvel at people who can create quickly. You’re not alone — and, trust me, we all struggle to look effortless (apart from the teensy, tiny Lego-stepping brigade).
An Effort-Ridden Example
A while ago, I wrote an article, “MACA—Make America Canada Again’. I sincerely hope nobody thought that was effortless, because cot-damn…it was not. My writing isn’t effortless. I’m not that funny.
I started writing that article on March 16th:
I published it on the 20th — so that article was four days in the making. And honestly, four days is on the faster side for me, some stories I work on for weeks or months, as I slowly contribute new bits that I think of. I didn’t work on it all day, every day for a week straight, I’m not that batshit crazy. But phew, that sonnamabitch took some time…and more importantly, effort.
It started as per my usual routine, of word vomiting onto a page, a random smattering of quasi-punctuated ideas:
This is my standard process of random thoughts, worked on over a couple of days (or more), that slowly morphs into an article over time. In the end, I was able to polish this particular turd and turn it into a shit ticket to success.
Not all stories end happily though. Some lay permanently mangled into pieces on the cutting room floor (aka the draft folder) like it’s Dahmer’s fridge — because I couldn’t make a human word soup out of it.

Enjoy the Ride — and the Finished Product
Do I want people to see the effort? Fuck no. I’m perfectly happy with anyone thinking I’m effortlessly funny, or a naturally decent writer. But it’s not the truth. Not for me, not for anybody.
So if, like me, you’ve ever read something and thought ‘damn — they’re good’ (or ‘lucky’, or naturally talented) know that you’re not seeing the effort…you’re just sampling the delicious word soup they ended up with.
If that wasn’t enough of a lesson, here’s another one. Take all the time you need. If your draft folder looks like a cemetery of dead ideas you weren’t ‘creative enough’ to bring to life…then it looks just like mine. And those are just idea corpses that you haven’t reincarnated yet.
Effortless, isn’t. And long live the draft folder.





"Douchekazoo" has now been added to my list of favorite words.
And yep, I totally agree. When I'm free-flow writing, I can quite quickly get the general meat of the article in there. But then come the edits - which probably takes longer than the actual writing 😅
Now I'm writing my book, it's about a million times slower because I am doing a ton of research on top. But well, carrying on!
Like your zombie writing. Raising the ideas from the grave which is better than reading tombstones.