So, I write. And a read. I chase my kids around; finally got the little one potty trained. I clean and occasionally I make things with a hot glue gun. Not very interesting. So, what to blog about? Not parenting; too many blogs as it is and I don’t really know what I’m doing anyway.
But here I am, with my own platform, to talk about being a writer. I just learned to call myself that actually. For years I refused to call myself a writer. I thought that term was reserved for people with published works, or bylines. But that’s not really true. Anyone who puts pen to paper (or fingers to keyboards) has a right to call themselves a writer. It’s about more than publishing deals and book tours. It’s about taking the time to pour your heart out and create a story. It’s when you stop talking about writing a book and start putting hours in. So, I’m a writer. It’s empowering to call myself that. I’ll end this post with my favorite quote by Ernest Hemingway, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
Are you a writer? I’d love to hear from you.