BUTT-TO-CHAIR RESOLUTIONS

There comes a time in many a writer's existence when she has to decide whether she is, in fact, a writer.

• Am I a writer because I like to write?
  

• Do I get the label only after my first book is published?
  

• Is it a profession only when I'm doing it full time and make a decent living at it?

In short, where does hobby leave off and real identity start?

I've lived through many different opinions on this but recently asked myself: why can't I just call myself a writer? Really, what's stopping me? It's not like I'm taking out a billboard on Washtenaw Ave or running promo ads on Google. Why can't I just say, confidently, to anyone who asks what I do, that I'm a writer?

Maybe because the very next question is inevitably going to be: oh, that's so cool, what books have you written, maybe I've read one... And then I have to admit: I haven't published anything yet. That's like saying you're married but haven't picked out your husband yet. I don't enjoy volunteering my track record or lack thereof for in-depth analysis to strangers. So up to this point, I've kept the writer thing firmly under my hat. (you know, right down next to my toes, where's its safely buried, just in case someone decides to go digging without permission)

I'm tired of that--and I do not need back troubles from repeated cringe-itis. So I have to accept the inevitable: I need to pin my butt to chair and write a book. And when that's done, I need to keep the butt pinned and write another after that. It's time.

And please, friends, now that I've made the official announcement (and have a schedule worked out and written down in my Book-That-Tells-Me-When-To-Breathe), keep me accountable.

Thanks. Love Ya!