I feel stupid when I tell people I’m a writer.
You know when you’re getting to know somebody new? There are basically TWO standard getting-to-know-you questions that people always ask:
Where are you from?
and
What do you do?
A typical getting-to-know-you exchange goes pretty much like this:
… And here’s where I choke.
For some reason I can’t just say “I’m a writer” with confidence. Even though I am. I’m not a wanna-be. I’m not “aspiring”. Which, by the way, is a word I completely detest β I write every goddamned day, there’s nothing “aspiring” about it… aspiring to be published, certainly, but I’m not an aspiring writer. But I digress. Getting back to the exchange:
… And, of course, the answer is no.
And this is when something happens to the stranger’s eyes. They either narrow in suspicion, or widen in confusion, but ultimately the person looks at me like I’m full of shit. He doesn’t say it, but I can hear the voice in his head going, “But how can you say you’re a writer if you’re not published?”
Every single day, it’s a struggle to remind myself that I write because I want to, because it’s something I enjoy, and because it’s something I feel is worthy of my time when I could totally be doing other things. I want the validation of being published, yes, but the bottom line is, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t enjoy it. And I do enjoy it. Seeing a story emerge on a blank page where no words previously existed, creating characters that say and do the most unexpected things… it’s exhilarating.
And pretty much impossible to explain to a stranger who doesnβt believe I do what I say I do because I have no hard copy proof.
I know this is my own neurosis. I know that. I just wish, sometimes, that I could answer the question differently.
*sigh*
One can dream.
hehehehe … sparkly pen! That was laugh out loud funny Jenny. What does one have if they don’t have dreams?
My dream involves the slogan … “Just Imagine …” and a really funny happy dance in my CEO’s office. π
I read your blog everyday and completely enjoy it! I love your conversations with yourself…great work Jenny. Keep it up, lots of love.
Sabrina
… I have to add one more thing … I’m so proud that you establish you’re Canadian…
I think the appropriate response is… Not yet, I am just finishing my first book and I am at various stages with two… blah, blah, blah… You get the idea.
Also, when your first book becomes a movie can I be in it?
Hi Jenny, I’m a friend of Micheleen’s. I actually work for a literary agent, so I feel your pain when it comes to the desire for getting published. All of our clients feel the same way, of course.
Everyone thinks writing is easy–everyone’s writing a book, right? My boss often tells people this anecdote about Margret Atwood. She’s at a cocktail party and a neurosurgeon says to her, “So you’re a writer?” “Yes,” she replies. He continues, “When I retire I’m going to write a book.” She answers, “When I retire I’m going to become a brain surgeon.”
Good luck with your publishing endeavours!
Wendy Lukasiewicz (from Calgary)
Smelly: Thanks for laughing… it’s the best compliment ever.
Sabrina: I had no idea you were reading!! Thanks so much for letting me know. Miss you, girl! Hope everything’s going well.
Wendy: Ahhhh… a kindred spirit! Gosh, any advice you have for me would be appreciated a thousand times over. Please comment as often as you like, and feel free to set me straight on any misconceptions I might have about the world of publishing (which I don’t know much about, other than what other writers tell me). Loved loved loved the Margaret Atwood analogy. It made my day. π
Oh, I and almost forgot Steve. Of course you can be in the movie, sweetie. That is, if it’s okay with Angelina. π
People think its so cool when i tell them i work with athletes.
So its cool to be overworked, underpaid and in debt!?
Just can’t win.
I feel bad for you that people react that way =( You are an amazing person and deserve to be treated with respect. Every writer had to start somewhere!!!!!
I am not much of a reader, I find it hard to find the time. I do make sure that I read to Marlee every night before she goes to bed. If she isn’t listening (like a typical 2 year old) I threaten not to read her stories at bedtime – it works great! Hopefully she will continue to love her books throughout life.
Love Amy
(Marlee was asking if we could go to your house last night, it was really cute. I thought about sending you a Blackberry voice note but I was driving…)
It is weird that I miss Marlee so much!!?? I’m going to have come visit you guys this summer FOR SURE. Oh yeah, and I miss you too, Amy!! π
D, I guess the moral of the story is that it doesn’t matter what you SAY you do. It matters what you DO, period.
Everybody chant it with me now…