Wait, I really am a real writer now! Seriously. Getting paid means I’m totally legit. I’m kidding, sorta.
After landing this unexpected opportunity, all I could think at first was, “Finally, I’m a real writer.” It was a huge sigh of relief that all my hard work and stupid words through the years didn’t go to waste.
But I backed this up with, “I’m a fucking idiot.” No one has to give you permission to be a real writer. That’s like a dog asking if it can be a dog. Nonsense. It’s just something you are. Something that you never really realized, but it crept up on you and now just it’s part of you.
To be a writer is to accept that fact that there is no one and everyone listening all at the same time. It’s terrifying thinking how significant and insignificant your words can be all at once.
Those feelings never really go away, but that’s okay. You’ll continue to write despite that little voice saying no ones there because you’re a writer. And frankly, you don’t give a fuck what that voice says.
So, what does it take to be a real writer?
A pencil, pen, keyboard and a few of your little, beautiful, maybe slightly vulgar words. That’s it. Write whatever the hell you want to whoever will read. Don’t over think it — writer’s are great at over thinking things. It’s that easy.
Please follow my “real writer” inspirational and sarcastic musings on here, I swear they’ll be entertaining, but also come back here because the real writing starts before anyone paid you a dime to do it. Trust me, that’s the good stuff. The stuff no one pays you to type.