So I am a published writer. I have just recently published my third children’s book. I have published several volumes of poetry, and a novella. I write this blog and contribute regularly to another. After all of that, sometimes I feel doubtful that I should claim that I am a writer. I do not have a novel, and the current story that I am working on… Well I am likely doing a novella again. I am at five thousand words… And I realized that I am about half done. So should I stop calling myself a writer? NO, because I am still writing. I will likely have a new volume of poetry to release early in 2017. I will still finish the death of neverland. I may never write a “Full” novel, but I wonder if that really is that big of a deal.
So what is writing? Writing is taking one’s heart and pulling it out through the fingertips. Writing is creating a tender spot on your own soul, and exposing it to the world. Writing is late nights, sore fingers and crying yourself dry. Writing is the feeling of accomplishment of a job well done. Writing is all the tortures of Hell and all the pleasures of heaven. And in the end… Writing is an obsession stronger than any.