Hey guys! I'm a writer!

I went to listen to a writer give a speech today. He used to be a columnist and has his fair share of published novels. He’s kind of got it going on, as a writer at least.

He said the most common thing he finds in writers at the seminars he does is that they lack confidence. They won’t even call themselves writers until they’ve attained a certain level, published enough work or become known somehow. This is so wrong, he says, because when Joe Shmoe throws a bag of golf clubs over his shoulder, heads out to the course and bats a couple balls around, what do we call him? A golfer. And so, if you write, you are a writer. Call yourself a writer.

Geez, fine, I’ll call myself a writer. Enough with the public humiliation already.

Not ten minutes before that, my co-worker, who was the one to bring me to the meeting, told another lady at our table that I wanted to come today because I’m a writer, too. “Oh wow, you write books?!” she was very excited for me. I, in typical fashion, lowered my glance to my shoes and mumbled something like “yeah well not really, I mean….”

DING! I was literally saved by the bell. The meeting was started by banging on the side of a big gold bell at the front of the room, preceded by forced handshakes and uncomfortable eye contact. There was a slew of strange club traditions that made me feel like I was in Sunday School again, before the infamous writer got up to speak. I had never been to a Kiwanis meeting before, let alone known what Kiwanis was, as was made apparent when the leader asked if there were any guests present today.

The meeting went on and the speaker gave a kind of anti-climactic talk, but the truly great thing was that I knew, instantly, all I was there to hear. Call yourself a writer.

And so on this journey I continue.