Read as widely as you can, not just stuff you like, either. Try to figure out what makes the stuff you do like work for you. Inevitably when you write your own stories, they will resemble the writing that you already like. That's okay. But sooner or later, you need to stretch some different writing muscles, and that starts with exercising different reading muscles.

If you mostly read fiction, read some non-fiction. If you mostly read one kind of fiction, try some different kinds. I can almost guarantee you'll be pleasantly surprised. Some of my most useful ideas have turned up in unexpected places: a book about the history of Tibet, a story about 6th century Japan, a book about WWI that my husband got for Christmas – none of them books I would have read normally.

On the other hand, if you start reading something and after about ten pages it's not doing it for you, drop it and find something else. Life is too short, and there are too many great books out there to waste time struggling with one that isn’t working for you. Go back in a few years and try again; maybe that book will be ready for you now. I wasted a lot of fabulous books by trying to read them too young. I thought I was being smart by reading them so young; I know better now. I would have got a lot more out of them if I'd waited a bit. 

 
Write every day and practice, practice, practice. Writing is a habit, just like any other. If you sit around waiting till you feel inspired, your pile of finished writing will be veeery small. I used to get up at 6am before work every day, drag myself out to the back shed in the freezing dark, and write for two hours before breakfast. EVERY DAY. When I had a little baby, the minute she fell asleep, I'd rush to my desk and write. And because I had developed that discipline of writing even when I wasn't in the mood, I finished a whole book by her first birthday, in chunks of half and hour here and an hour there.

This is also “where your ideas come from.” Just make sure you write them down, instead of letting them float away. Long walks and hot showers are a fruitful source of ideas for me. Get into the habit of keeping a notebook and writing in it every day – story ideas, images that strike you, scraps of overheard conversation, observations. I used to spend two hours on public transport on my way to and from school. Part of the time I spent reading or yakking to my friends, but I also got into the habit of observing and describing things I saw in my head, as if I were writing about them: people, passing scenery, a scene enacted silently on a station platform. Start practising: how would I describe that? (Remember, a good strong verb is worth five adjectives)

Do lots of stuff. This is one I wish I’d done more of. The more skills you can pick up, the more material you have to draw on when you begin to write. Any opportunity you get to learn how to do something, take it. It will add authenticity to your writing if you can add a little detail to what you describe. Mountain-climbing, horse-riding, making music, travelling, sword-fighting, cooking, looking after old people, working in a call centre. Anything, no matter how seemingly dull or seemingly obscure, can be fodder for your writing. Same goes for life experiences generally: heartbreak, loneliness, embarrassment and humiliation – all useful stuff for a writer.

Learn lots of stuff. This is the same as the above point, and same as “read lots.” Learn a language, find out about theories of time-travel, or bee-keeping, or sailing, or ancient Mesopotamia. If you can’t actually do it yourself, read about it from someone who has. Second-hand experience isn’t as good as first-hand, but it’s better than nothing. The internet is great for this. You will pick up interesting facts. Your mind will begin to make connections between this and that. It’s called research. And it’s fun.
talk to people

People are an even better source of interesting material than books or the internet. You know how they say, everyone has a story? Well, it’s actually true. Learn how to listen to people, observe how people talk. Let them talk about themselves (people love to talk about themselves). This is not just an essential writer’s skill (and one a lot of writers, including me, find very difficult), it’s an essential LIFE skill. But you can tell yourself it’s just to help you be a better writer if that makes it easier.

Have a back-up plan. Don’t plan to be a writer and nothing but a writer (even if you secretly know that is your destiny). Cos you might not make it. Almost certainly you won’t make it straight away, and you need a way to earn money while that happens (and even, gulp, afterwards. See below.) And also writers who do nothing but write are, you know, boring. All the time I was sending out stories and novels and hoping to get published (I did that for about 10 years before Singer of All Songs came out) I had other jobs. Lots of other jobs.

Learn from professional criticism. Not so much what your mum says or what your best friend says. But if you get access to professional editing or criticism, and they say, ‘we-ell, there are a couple of things…” don’t snatch your story back and run away crying because it isn’t perfect. Of course it isn’t. But it can probably be improved, and editors usually have lots of ideas to help you do that. You might disagree with them, and that’s fine, they’re not always right, but at least think about what they have to say, because they’ve been doing this a lot longer than you, and they have a good idea what works and why.

Criticism won’t destroy you, it will make you stronger. I used to be terrified of getting my manuscript back from the publishers with pencil marks all over it and huge chunks slashed out, and miserable, but my wonderful editors are the best writing teachers I could have had, and I have so much to thank them for.

Don't expect to make a lot of money. The going rate is 10% of the cover price, which translates to about $1.50 a book. Even if maths is not your strong point, and it certainly isn’t mine, you can see that you would have to sell an awful lot of copies to make serious money. To give you some idea, sales of about 5000 copies in Australia is considered pretty good. (See my above point about having another source of income)

Don't expect it to get easy. The more you learn about the craft of writing, the more flaws you can see in your own work, and the more ways you think of to fix them. Which sounds all right, but sometimes it means you just get in a muddle, trying one thing then another, and losing sight of what you wanted to do in the first place, if you ever knew… And there are lots of days when I’m not in the mood, or I’ve run out of ideas, or I’m struggling with a section that just won’t work, or I’m sick of my own story, or I can’t think what to do next and feel as if I never will. But you know what? A lot of the time, the stuff I write on the bad days, when it feels like I’m pulling each word out of my body with very small tweezers, is better than the stuff that rushes out in a flood of inspiration, which often turns out, on closer inspection, to be rubbish. It does get slightly easier, but it never gets easy.