I came across Fiona Williams’ work through a writing workshop last year—one of those online things where you submit pieces for peer critique. Her feedback on my short story was the most useful I’d received in months. Direct, specific, focused on craft rather than personal taste. I looked up her other work afterward and found a writer worth studying.
Finding Her Voice
Williams didn’t start as a writer. The bio pieces I’ve found mention a decade in marketing before she made the transition. That background shows in her writing—there’s an efficiency to her prose, a clarity that comes from learning to communicate without wasted words.
Her early published pieces were essays. Personal but not confessional. The kind where you learn something about the world through learning something about the writer’s experience. She published in mid-tier literary magazines at first—the ones that pay a token amount and have small but serious readership.
The fiction came later. Short stories initially, now working on a novel according to her recent interviews. The transition from essays to fiction required developing new skills, she’s said—learning to disappear behind characters rather than speaking directly to readers.
What Her Work Does Well
Observation is her strength. Williams notices details that reveal character and situation without requiring explanation. A description of how someone holds their coffee cup tells you about their emotional state. The objects in a room imply the person who lives there.
Her dialogue feels real without being transcribed. Real conversation is boring and repetitive; hers has the rhythm of authentic speech while actually advancing the story. That’s harder than it looks.
Structurally, her pieces tend toward the unconventional. Not experimental in a showy way—she’s not breaking forms for the sake of breaking them. But she arranges information deliberately, revealing things in orders that create specific effects.
The Workshop Comments
What struck me about her feedback in that workshop wasn’t just accuracy—plenty of people can spot problems—but usefulness. She identified where my story went wrong and suggested why, in terms of craft, the approach wasn’t working.
“The scene needs tension but you’ve resolved it before it builds” was more helpful than either “this is great” or “this doesn’t work.” She could see the machine under the surface and point to which part was misfiring.
I’ve taken workshops with published authors who gave vaguer, less actionable feedback. Williams has teaching instincts that not all good writers share.
Building A Writing Career
Her path is worth noting for anyone trying to build a writing life without existing connections or credentials.
She started by submitting to magazines. Rejection after rejection, she’s said, for years. Eventually acceptances started coming. Small publications, then slightly larger ones, then some you’d recognize.
The workshop teaching started organically—leading critique groups that became formal courses. Now she teaches independently and through various writing organizations. Income from teaching supports the writing that doesn’t yet pay enough to live on.
It’s not a glamorous story. No viral success, no overnight discovery. Just consistent work over years, gradually building an audience and a body of work.
Lessons From Her Approach
A few things I’ve taken from studying her work and process:
The marketing background isn’t a liability. She’s said the years in corporate communications taught her to write clearly under deadline. Those aren’t artistic skills, but they’re professional skills that matter when writing becomes your job.
Reading widely pays off. Her references and influences span genres. In one interview she mentioned crime fiction and literary essays and historical biography in the same breath. The variety informs the work.
Revision is most of the process. She’s shared draft comparisons where the published version bears little resemblance to early versions. The first draft is raw material; the work is in shaping it.
Consistent output beats sporadic brilliance. She writes regularly, publishes what’s ready, moves to the next thing. The accumulation of decent work builds a career more reliably than waiting for perfect work.
Where To Find Her
Williams maintains a basic website with links to published work and upcoming teaching. She’s active on writer social media without being performatively present—posts about craft, shared links, occasional commentary on the writing life.
Her published essays appear across various magazines, some behind paywalls, some freely available. The short stories are mostly in literary journals that can be accessed through library databases if you don’t have subscriptions.
The workshops she teaches fill quickly. I’d recommend signing up when they’re announced rather than waiting.
Why She Matters
Williams isn’t famous. She’s not likely to become a household name. But for working writers trying to figure out how to do this—how to develop craft, how to build an audience, how to survive economically while creating—her path offers a realistic model.
She’s figured out how to make a writing life sustainable without either massive commercial success or independent wealth. Teaching supports writing. Writing feeds teaching. The pieces reinforce each other.
That’s inspiring in a practical way. Not “you can be the next bestseller” inspiring, but “here’s how an actual person actually does this” inspiring. More useful, honestly.
