Because I don’t get paid to do this all day long, I often don’t feel I have the right to call myself a writer. But lately, I lay full claim to that title. Why? Because I’m earning it. For the past two weeks I have had my butt in this chair every day for at least a couple of hours. (I do have a job and a toddler.) And I’m not browsing the internet. (Haven’t seen a post from me in a while, have you?) I am sweating and bleeding onto the page. I am toiling over words. It feels fantastically awful and awfully fantastic, depending on when you ask me.
I’m feeling like a writer because I’m pushing through the tough parts. A few days ago, I plunged into the next chapter of revisions and found I had to rewrite an entire scene. I sat down and wrote it, and it was really, really bad.
Usually, I would be so discouraged by this initial failure that it would take me a few days to face the page again. But this time, I went right back to it the very next day. I worked it. Then I moved on. And it’s better. Not perfect, but better. I can live with that.
I’m feeling like this is my job that I go to every day without question, without stalling, without excuses. Inspiration doesn’t make me feel like a writer. Working at it every day does. Hey, I may finish this novel yet!
When do you most feel like a writer?
I hope all of the NaNoWriMo participants out there will also feel like writers very soon, if you don’t already.