What if the primary reason a text fails to stick in the memory isn't a weakness of thought, but rather an overzealous desire to make everything perfect?
Paradoxically, this happens constantly in editorial and journalistic practice: the more an author or editor polishes the material, stripping away everything vibrant, personal, and raw, the less character remains. The text becomes tidy and utterly faceless. Truly powerful writing almost always relies on recognizability rather than flawless execution.
Imperfection is not a problem at all. In fact, it is often the primary source of an author's strength.
The Author’s Mark Is More Important Than Perfect Smoothness
Many writers start with an almost sacred conviction: the text must be impeccable. However, in the pursuit of smoothness, it is easy to lose the most valuable element—the living presence of the author.
Anne Lamott, the American author and writing guide, does not hide her doubts, jagged thoughts, or vulnerability; instead, she makes them integral to her writing. This is precisely why her book Bird by Bird reads like a deeply human, warm, and vibrant work rather than a textbook filled with perfectly structured formulas.
This is the true power of imperfection: it creates the sensation of a living person. The reader doesn't just process information—they feel that a real author stands behind the text.
Personal Quirks Are Not Obstacles
Every writer eventually develops their own habits: some drift into long tangents, others favor blunt phrasing, and some build their work through fragments. Early in a career, these traits are often viewed as flaws. Yet, over time, these very characteristics can become a signature style.
Joan Didion is one of the best examples. An American journalist, writer, and key figure in New Journalism, she always wrote with a deeply personal touch, characterized by detached precision, a fragmentary structure, and a strong authorial presence. She was frequently criticized for being overly subjective, but it was that specific voice that made her iconic. The White Album and The Year of Magical Thinking became classics not despite this style, but because of it.
Authorial writing doesn't have to please everyone. It can have its own flavor, its own timbre, and its own personality.
Smaller Pieces Work Better
Trying to write a massive, perfectly polished article right away is a near-guaranteed way to get stuck in perfectionism. It is much more productive to start with shorter pieces where you can experiment, make mistakes, shift your tone, and find yourself without excessive pressure.
David Foster Wallace serves as another fascinating example. The American novelist and essayist became famous for his incredibly dense prose: long sentences, footnotes, philosophical tangents, and heavy thought in every paragraph. Initially, many found this style to be overloaded. However, he honed this approach in short magazine assignments, and his collection Consider the Lobster became a modern classic.
The same logic applies here as well: imperfection might not be a lack of polish, but a form of precision. Sometimes, it is exactly what makes a text come alive and stay in the reader's memory.
What Can You Try?
Take a finished article and reinsert two or three moments you previously removed for the sake of "cleanliness."
Choose one of your stylistic quirks and try to turn it into your "superpower."
Before your next publication, ask yourself a simple question: if I weren't trying to please everyone, what would this text look like?
Try being imperfect. Often, it is in this version that a true authorial flavor first emerges—much like fine artisanal chocolate: with character, depth, and a memorable aftertaste.
