Vinay Duggi

Maybe you’ve read one too many blog posts that promised insight but offered fluff. Or perhaps you’ve skimmed through content so predictable, you could finish the sentence before the writer did. It happens. Writing, like any craft, walks a fine line between engaging and exhausting, and too often, skills sharpened by repetition begin to dull the senses of the audience.

But what exactly is it that bores you? Is it the formulaic structure—the intro, three bullet points, and a conclusion that circles back with cliché closure? Is it the overuse of buzzwords and SEO-heavy jargon that chokes authenticity? Or is it the tone, too polished and polite, lacking the edge of human imperfection?

Good writing isn't just about using big words or perfect grammar. It’s about curiosity. It’s about taking a thought—raw and inconvenient—and shaping it into something that hits a nerve or opens a door. It’s about rhythm and restraint, knowing when to dazzle with metaphors and when to just say it straight. It’s about making the reader forget they're reading.

Maybe what’s boring isn’t the writer’s skill—but the absence of risk. When writing becomes a checklist of techniques and marketable formats, it loses its ability to surprise. Skill should serve the soul of the message, not silence it.

So, yes, writer’s skills may have bored you—but that doesn’t mean writing has failed. It means it’s time to demand more: from writers, from platforms, from ourselves. To crave voice, not just volume. To ask for meaning, not just metrics. To reward those who are brave enough to be bold, honest, or even beautifully strange.

Because when writing makes you feel something—annoyed, inspired, uncomfortable, seen—it’s doing its job. And when it doesn’t? Well, that’s not a lack of skill. That’s the absence of risk, of voice, of life.

So if you’ve been bored, good. That’s the itch. Now go find the words that scratch it.