The Truth About Online Writing Success in 2025

I scrolled past another writer’s post about “making it” online. The kind that promises six-figure income if you just “keep grinding.” Inspiring—for about five seconds—until reality hits. Writing online? It’s a lottery. Not the kind where you buy a ticket and pray for a jackpot, but one where the currency is time, hard work, and unbreakable resolve. And like most lotteries, the odds are clearly not in your favor—especially if you’re starting from scratch, armed only with dreams and a Wi-Fi connection.

The Math of “Making It”

I once read about a guy in the 1960s, a Romanian economist stuck in a dead-end job, living on $88 a month. He didn’t rely on luck; he relied on math. He figured if he could buy every possible combination in a small lottery, he’d win—as long as the jackpot was big enough to cover costs and still turn a profit. Just high school math, not rocket science. And it worked. He won big enough to leave his country, eventually moved to Australia, and kept refining his system. Over decades, he and his team legally won 14 times across countries by targeting low-odds lotteries and raising millions to buy tickets.

Sounds like a cheat code, right? But the system caught up. Countries changed rules—capping prizes, banning bulk buys. Unless you’ve got millions lying around, that strategy’s dead now. But it got me thinking about online writing. It’s not that different.

The internet’s like a lottery too. The jackpot? A loyal audience, maybe money, maybe a career. The tickets? Your writing, your time, your hustle. The problem? Not everyone can afford to play.

An Uneven Arena

Here’s the truth people rarely talk about: the game’s rigged from the start. If you’re rich, you can “buy” all the tickets—hire editors, run ads, take courses, network with the right people. If you’re middle-class, you can afford a few tickets—maybe a writing platform subscription, a website, or a couple of hours a week to write. But if you’re poor? You can’t even get into the arena. You’re too busy working overtime or figuring out how to pay rent.

According to 2023 U.S. Census Bureau data, 37 million Americans live below the poverty line. That’s 37 million people who don’t have the “luxury” to invest in a side hustle, let alone wait for it to pay off.

I get why so many rush to “make it” online. Time is currency, and not everyone has a surplus. I’m lucky—I have a day job that covers the basics, barely, but it leaves me nights to write. Others aren’t so fortunate. They’re sweeping floors, driving Uber, or picking up extra shifts just to survive. Their hustle is real, and far from romantic. The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics reported in 2024 that 40% of gig workers rely on those jobs as their main income. For them, online writing isn’t a dream—it’s a luxury out of reach.

The J-Curve of Patience

Writing isn’t a sprint; it’s like farming. You plant seeds—blog posts, tweets, newsletters—and you wait. Sometimes a year, sometimes two. They call it the J-Curve: you pour in effort upfront, see zero results, then, maybe, the graph starts climbing. I learned that the hard way. Eight months of posting into the void before anyone read. Eight months of doubt, wondering if I was wasting time.

Why do people keep going? I ask myself that every time I hit a wall. The answer’s not glamorous: they don’t quit. They treat writing as a craft, not a get-rich-quick scheme. But that’s easier said than done—especially when your bank account’s screaming, “Get a real job!” If you need cash now, writing’s not the answer. Deliver pizzas, bartend, anything that pays instantly. But if you can hold on, keep planting those seeds.

Art, Money, and Hard Truths

I used to think true artists didn’t care about money. Create for the love of art, right? Then I read Ryan Holiday’s Perennial Seller, and my perspective flipped. Art and money aren’t enemies—they’re dance partners. You can write a masterpiece, but if no one reads it, it’s just words on a screen. Marketing isn’t selling out; it’s survival. Ignore it, and you’re invisible.

Scott Galloway once said only 1% succeed in persuasive art. That felt like a punch. Bitter, but I had to swallow it. Since then, my approach to creating has changed. I’m not chasing viral anymore. I’m building something steady, something lasting. Picasso said, “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” That’s why I write—not just for money, but to feel alive, to make sense of this messy life.

Playing the Long Game

So, is online writing a lottery? Yeah, in a way. You’re betting on yourself—your ability to work harder, longer, and learn faster than the competition. But unlike a lottery, you don’t need cash to play—just patience and the will to keep showing up. The odds are slim, but not zero. Every post, every story, every late-night draft is a ticket. And the more you write, the more tickets you have.

I’m not saying it’s easy. Most days, it feels like shouting into a void. But once in a while, someone reads your work, connects with it, shares it. That’s the spark that keeps you going. Not because of a jackpot dream, but because of the hope you’re building something real—one word at a time.

What do you think? How do you keep writing when the odds feel stacked against you? Let’s chat in the comments.