The first condition to become a writer is to have something to say.
It reminds me of the anecdote from the stormy life of Napoleon.
Each time the Frenchman conquered the town, he expected a 21-gun salute. One time the expectation was not met, and the town was silent. No sounds of celebration. He called the local Mairé, demanding the explanations. Poor official came sweating, fearing for his life. He apologized profusely and then tried to explain.
“Sire, I can give you ten reasons we couldn’t greet you in your customary way. First of all, we don’t have guns…”
“That’s enough,” Napoleon interrupted. “I don’t need to hear the other nine.”
Even the best written book is hollow when there is no story there.
First things first.