You have probably noticed by now that I do not shy away from unpleasant subjects on this blog. Whether that’s illiteracy, why Gen AI sucks, or trigger warnings, I believe it’s important to face life as it is (or at least how it seems from my perspective) and openly discuss problems. Burying our heads in the sand does not help anyone, least of all ourselves.

So let me state it outright.

A lot of writers are assholes.

It’s actually kind of a trope in the writing world, which you may not have seen if you’re a reader. Before Elon tanked the entire site, Book Twitter was always full of insane drama, to the point where we’d joke that we were in a “dry spell” if a few weeks went by without a writer blowing up and ruining their own career.

Google “Authors Behaving Badly” and you will find a treasure trove of the most unhinged behavior you could imagine. Whether that’s review-bombing other debut writers, threatening to sue someone for stealing “their” magic system, or even physically attacking reviewers, we authors really don’t give ourselves a good name.

And let’s not even touch the actual abuse that goes on behind closed doors. Neil.

But why, exactly, are authors uniquely predisposed to being shit people? I offer my theories.

None of these are excuses for bad behavior, just explanations.

First things first: I’m not excusing anyone. However, we need to understand why people act the way they do so that we can address the root problems and, perhaps, build a kinder community.

And, of course, not all of these apply to every writer. Some people are rude no matter their background or skills.

Writers are often socially awkward loners.

Not everyone, of course, but many. I, too, am a socially awkward loner; I only really started socializing outside of school and work in my 30s. A lot of the time I still feel like a weird little alien pretending to be a human being.

Writing is a mostly solitary activity. It requires spending hours in front of a computer screen, building whole worlds in your head and making your imaginary friends. If you’re writing for a few hours every week, that’s less time you’re spending with other humans.

There’s also the fact that most writers were avid readers when they were younger – another solitary activity. So, we spent our most precious socialization years in solitude, curled up under the covers or tucked away in quiet spaces so we could hallucinate while staring at dead trees.

As such, a lot of writers just don’t really know how to behave around other humans, and this makes them act like jackasses.

Many can’t accept they’re not really in competition with other authors.

We saw this with the Cait Corrain debacle back in 2023, when a debut author set up dozens of fake accounts to bash other authors in hopes of directing people to her work instead.

Which is not only mean but … really dumb. Disregarding the reputational damage that occurs when people find out you’ve been sneaking, you’re also artificially reducing your own readership because Goodreads algos work on recommendations.

Let’s say that you like one of my books, for example. Maybe you put 9 Years Yearning on your to-read, or you gave it a five-star review (which would make me very happy btw).

Now you can click on ‘Similar Authors’ and get recommendations of other fine authors which people who liked my books also liked.

And if you add a book to your to-read, you can get recommendations of similar books you might also like. This is based on the book’s overall ratings and positive reviews.

So, when an author review-bombs another author in their genre, they are making themselves less likely to get recommended, because the algo then believes that the books don’t share a readership.

Another thing is that books are not like cars, where someone might only buy one every 10 years. People might buy dozens or even hundreds of books a year, even if they don’t read them right away. I’ve been known to binge a full series in a single week when I’m really fired up.

Yes, you’re competing for attention. But there’s actually plenty of readership to go around, especially now when ebooks are so reasonably priced. I have over 800 books in my Kindle library; the vast majority haven’t been read and may never get read, but the author still got paid. Some people window shop for hours and just buy whatever looks interesting based on the cover.

Still, authors like Cait Corrain do not understand this, and they refuse to listen when people try to explain. As such, they act like assholes to every other author, imagining that they run a used car dealership and every customer is a one-time sale.

Some have the “temporarily embarrassed millionaire” mindset.

The “temporarily embarrassed millionaire” is an attitude that leads low-income people to vote against their own best interests because they align themselves with the uber-rich. Since they believe they’re basically on the cusp of the glamorous lifestyle, they will often act better than others as if they have actually achieved that status.

Authors, too, can develop this mindset, where they think they’re just a random phone call away from becoming George RR Martin. They’ll act more important than they are, condescending to other authors who have just as many (or more) publications or sales as them.

I have unfortunately come across this more than once. Being the nosy bastard I am, I promptly looked up their reviews and found that said author had published 12 books … all of which had less than a 2 star rating. Oof.

Gifted Kid Burnout is a real thing.

Writers who started young were often spoiled and coddled into thinking they’re the most special person ever. Maybe I got this shamed out of me: my fifth grade teacher accused me of plagiarism when my poem was too good. Thanks, jerk.

It’s easy to start thinking you’re a genius when you’re the one “good writer” in your class. Maybe you got a story published in a local paper, and you got a lot of attention for it, and now you think you’re hot shit.

Then you get thrown into an entire world of other writers, many of whom are better than you. This causes resentment because the praise you wanted is now being heaped on other people, and you’re no longer the special one anymore.

I don’t think a lot of writers actually connect this to their actions; self-reflection is an unfortunately rare thing. Nevertheless, this impulse is deep down in there, all coming from a little kid who is mad that the attention they grew accustomed to isn’t there anymore. Praise can be addictive, and it’s painful when it’s taken away.

Others have an inflated ego that can’t tolerate being ignored.

Whether it comes from low self-esteem or the Gifted Kid issue, some writers really think they’re the best on the planet and no one can do it like them. Because they believe they deserve all the attention in the world, they cannot stand others getting even a crumb of acknowledgment; it sends them into a frothing rage that only retaliation can soothe.

I don’t exactly know why authors are so prone to big egos, and I’m not sure whether anyone can tell me. Certainly other creatives, like artists and musicians, aren’t quite so high on their own supply for the most part, though there are exceptions.

Perhaps it’s because mastery of your given language is seen as a sign of genius, despite the fact that musical, visual, spatial, and other forms of intelligence have equal merit.

Being as we (used to) revere intellectualism, which was always closely associated with good written or spoken communication, one could see why those who score well on these metrics would think they’re better than others.

Not that they’re right, of course. But it does make sense, given societal perceptions.

You can be dumb as a box of rocks and still have exceptional value to your family, community, and the world as a whole. Personally, I privilege kindness, empathy, and emotional intelligence far above book smarts – and I have three college degrees.

Socioeconomic pressures make bad people act worse.

The time that we spend writing is time we cannot spend on more immediately lucrative endeavors.

Assume that a living wage in your area is $24, and you can write 800 words an hour. If you write a 100,000-word book, you missed out on about $3,000 in income. That’s a lot of money for many people, and it’s not even considering things like the time it takes to revise your work.

And then, if you’re a self-published author, you have to pay for beta reading, cover art, formatting, marketing, etc. Assuming you spend just $1,000 per book, you’re now out $4,000.

We’ll calculate your total losses, both lost wages and hard costs, at like $6,000 for convenience’s sake. If you’re making $6 per book (a handsome sum), you’d need to sell at least 1,000 copies. And most authors do not sell anywhere near that many.

People who are struggling to finance their talents aren’t going to be happy, and many choose to take it out on others instead of accepting that strangers have nothing to do with the overall state of the economy. We again have authors behaving badly, this time out of frustration that they’re losing money and others aren’t giving them what they feel they’re owed for their hard work.

Everyone, not just authors, can benefit from some self-reflection.

Being able to see yourself clearly is one of the best gifts you can give yourself and others. It can also keep you from making enemies or giving authors a bad name.

I’m not the nicest person on the planet, but I’m not usually a dick for no good reason. I do my best to be nice, though I will always protect my boundaries and call out people who disrespect me.

I also don’t believe my authorial status makes me a genius, nor does it mean that I am automatically entitled to other peoples’ respect (or money).

Do I have some self-delusions? Sure, everyone does. But after over a decade of therapy, I’m pretty good at reining myself in and acknowledging that I’m no better or worse than the average individual.

If you’re constantly getting into fights with other people, complaining about your “drama,” and being told you’re an asshole, then it’s time to do some deep thinking about who you are and how you present yourself to others.

You’re not irredeemable if you have any of these issues. I’ve suffered from them too – and sometimes still do. You only become irredeemable if you know you have a problem but won’t do anything to fix it.

Authors have a responsibility to call others out on their bad behavior.

I do not brook disrespect. For example, I responded to someone’s prompt on Bluesky and got this response:

And so I fired back.

Because it is rude. “Overachiever” is shorthand for “you’re doing too much and it’s stupid.” The heart emoji doesn’t change that.

And no, said person never apologized or responded at all.

A lot of people are uncomfortable with confontation because they don’t want to upset others, so they suck it up and let themselves get ridiculed. They’re afraid of making enemies, afraid of looking like the “bad guy.”

However, I always look at it this way: when I confront someone on their bad behavior, I’m not only defending myself, but I’m making them less likely to pull that nonsense on someone else. I’m clarifying that they shouldn’t speak to strangers in this overfamiliar, play-bullying way, and so they will think twice before they speak next time.

Being a “good” person does not always mean being a nice person. Especially because people have associated being “nice” with “never protesting when you’re treated badly.” That’s not being nice; that’s being a doormat.

It’s also not very nice to you. You’re the most important person in your life, and rightly so. Don’t let others push you around for the sake of keeping the peace.

You can be a decent human being and still call out others on their bullshit. With regularity, in fact.

Much as we want to believe everyone will follow the unspoken rules of polite society, many don’t, either out of ignorance or disregard. It is up to everyday people to kindly but firmly reinforce these social norms.

The more bad behavior we let slide, the more people feel emboldened to be jerks. You don’t need to fight fire with fire, but let people know that they’ve made you uncomfortable and that you’re not going to tolerate it.

As writers, we curate our community and change perceptions of what it means to write. We are responsible for building a kind and supportive space – even if that means being assertive.