I was never a huge fan of minimalism.

I found it to be very dull, a way to subtract the mementos of your life rather than filling your space with them. A way to diminish the individuality that distinguishes one from the next, the color that we call character.

It came as a shock to me, then, to find out that some of the best writing advice used by prolific authors was to do exactly that: cut it all down.

After finishing (and loving) his most famous novel, If on a winter’s night a traveler, I researched some of Italo Calvino’s other works, hoping to find clues to what defined his unconventional, yet extremely personable style:

“Whenever humanity seems condemned to heaviness, I think I should fly like Perseus into a different space. I don’t mean escaping into dreams or into the irrational. I mean that I have to change my approach, look at the world from a different perspective, with a different logic and with fresh methods of cognition and verification….In fact, the fuller it is, the less it will be able to fly.”

It’s a sense of minimalism in and of itself, this idea that writing doesn’t necessarily need to be so heavy, taken so seriously. Sure, it needs to convey the message you want and be able to engage readers for a substantial period of time–but that doesn’t necessarily mean it needs to be so heavy, so full of itself. Orwell echoed the same sentiment in his infamous writing advice: never use a long word when a short one will do.

This idea, this theory of literary minimalism even extended itself to music, however. Monk, an astounding player with an even more astounding knowledge of the theory behind his playing, “wasn’t into playing a lot of notes or, even in conversation, using a lot of words.”

Being original, or being successful even, doesn’t have to be full. It doesn’t have to be a full-on display of everything you’ve learned, every technique that you’ve studied. It just has to be yourself–the words will color your character for you.

I recently had a conversation with a reader of mine in which they asked about finding their niche on the Internet, to which I found myself repeating that same advice from Calvino: take it lightly. Don’t take it too seriously, and don’t worry about finding a super-specific group of people to focus on–you are your own niche. Focusing on building your own voice is much, much more attainable than gaming into the darkness of the Internet.

The next time you're staring at a blank page or an empty text box, remind yourself: you don't need to say everything. You just need to say something true, something that’s yours. People connect with the quality of your voice–not the quantity of your words.