I Am A Writer?
“I am a writer.”
Does anyone else out there feel like a fraud saying these words out loud? I sure do. And it’s funny that I feel like that because I’ve spent almost my entire life writing in some form. (True story: in 2nd or 3rd grade I started keeping notebooks, just like Harriet. To say they are hilarious to now read is an understatement.)
Perhaps this feeling comes from the fact that I don’t have an agent. Or maybe it’s because my dream of seeing my book on a bookstore shelf sometimes seems so elusive, so distant, that it is hardly worth working toward.
I keep working. I treat my writing like a job, albeit one that I love and that I have to squeeze into nap time/after kids are down for the day. I research the writing process. I read the Dos/Dont’s. I research agents. I follow people in the industry on Twitter. I read picture books both because I love them (as do my kids!) and because it is educational for me to know about the market. I write, revise, and write some more. I critique and get critiqued. I am slowly becoming part of the writing community, both locally and online.
So why is it so hard to say?
If I am putting the work into writing, into really making something of this, why can’t I say those words? Or at least say them in a way that sounds convincing? Why do I couch it in saying I’m an “aspiring writer”. No. I write, every day. I don’t aspire TO write. (Note to self: clearly I need to go update my Twitter profile after this call to action I am giving myself!)
I don’t know.
Hopefully someday soon I can hold my head high, look someone square in the eye and proudly proclaim that yes, I am a writer.