Listen, I’m not winning any prizes here on my lil’ ‘ol blog. I’m perfectly aware of my blogging world footprint (thanks to the analytics WordPress includes in my annual fee, lol). I’m no Oprah, Dalai Lama, or the like. I like to think a few of you out there actually get entertainment, a deep thought, a smile, or maybe I just help you pass time in the waiting area at the dentist’s office. Maybe some of you really take to heart what I write.
I’m realistic about who I am. I am a sales person by career. I am a single person for tax and lifestyle purposes. I am multi-ethnic for the census. And I am a wanna-be-writer-hobbyist. But really, where is the line drawn that says I’m not an actual writer? Is it determined by publishing? Am I truly just a blogger or am I a bona fide writer? How is it defined?
A friend of mine, who also blogs, recently set up a FB profile listing herself as a writer. And I thought about it. I’m doing the same thing she is… why can’t I be a writer too?
But I don’t feel it. That I am. A legit writer. I’m trying to figure out why I don’t think I’m ready to make that statement about myself yet (and by the way, if you want to read her blog… go to www.confessionsofanimperfectlife.com).
She fully identifies herself as a writer. I don’t. But I want to get there. I think for me to feel like a writer, I need to get something out there in the written word that is on paper – i.e. a book. So I’ve started a plan. One of my 2013 goals was to write a first draft of a memoir… and, well, I’ve started it. I know, who needs another memoir? But I think – and you are witness to this- that I have some pretty damn entertaining stories to tell.
So how will I become a bona fide writer? I’m gonna fake it ’til I make it.
I have started up a program with The Professor to block out 3-4 hours one Saturday or Sunday per month in a literary creative atmosphere… the first shall be on old library somewhere in LA. I figure if I immerse myself in a sea of written word, surround myself with books and the literary vibe- I will be submerged into an environment ripe for sentence creation- right? Cue the classical music from the library scenes in Seven and Philadelphia, and let the writing begin.
If I keep blogging and writing away daily on weekdays, and work on my Year of Being Single memoir on the weekend, it’s like I’m a real writer, right?
I try to surround myself with people who are amazing and thoughtful and can take me to the next level as a human- through emotion, maturity, life experience. I love mentors- being/having one. I love people who achieve successes similarly and differently than I… their energy and insight is so valuable and they’ve already learned lessons that they can teach. I try to see things the way they would see them. If my career mentor were in this situation, what would they do?
So I need to do that. Surround myself in writerville. People who do this, breathe it, love it. Places that embrace, encourage and grow the craft. I need to be the writer I want to become.
“Don’t fake it till you make it. Fake it till you become it.”— Amy Cuddy
Sometimes I freak out a little because I know there are 800,000 people out there all grasping for the same tiny splinter. Even my friend’s blog sometimes crosses over similar topics and for a brief second, I find myself comparing… good point, did I make that point? Did I miss that? I wish I had said it that way…. but then I realize, the one thing I have that absolutely no one else has… is me. I’m the only one out there. And that goes for anything in life… sales, love, writing… there’s only one you, and you’d better use that best you to become the you you want to be.