Home > Writing > Blogs > Are we WRITERS? by Monica Stoner Member at (very) Large
What defines us as writers? Some say the act of writing, of pulling words from our heads and putting them on pages, defines a writer. If thatâ€™s the case, when we donâ€™t write, do we cease being writers?
We all agree publishing of any sort does not define us as writers. Publishing is the public acknowledgment of our writing. The same as hanging a painting in a gallery, or selling sculpture recognizes a large step in an artistâ€™s life. However, creating that artwork has already identified that person as an artist. When asked, they can point to the sculpture, the hand thrown bowl, the oil painting, as an affirmation of their identity as an artist. When not currently producing, they still have that proof of their creative spark.
How long after we cease to torture our bodies by sitting for hours in front of our computer and cudgel our minds for just one viable idea can we continue to call ourselves writers? Is there a specific length of time, or maybe one day we just wake up and decide itâ€™s time to move on to something else? If, after a span of time, we plan to take up the challenge once more will we be still writing, or writing once again? Do we call ourselves once and future writers?
Teachers and nurses retire; pilots retire; and certainly soldiers and policemen retire. Once they have made that change in their lives, they are former teachers, pilots, etc (except Marines – I understand once a Marine, Always a Marine). Do writers ever retire? Or do they plan to be found, pen in hand, yellow pad on their lap, jotting down one final thought? Maybe writers are the Marines of the cerebral world – once a Writers, always a Writer?
Where is this leading? Iâ€™m not really sure. I just know by the act of dragging these words out of my head and into my fingers, Iâ€™ve gone from not writing to writing. So I guess Iâ€™m still a writer. And next maybe Iâ€™ll discuss wonderful writing data bases and why they donâ€™t work for everyone.
Monica Stoner email@example.com We’re only given a little spark of madness; we mustn’t lose it.