I’m a writer.
Or am I? I find it very difficult to say that to anyone… or I would, if I’d ever tried. It’s a form of modesty or self-depreciation which I have to stop, as soon as possible.
I haven’t been published, and writing isn’t my main job, so it seems that I am unable to tell people that writing is what I want to do, unless they force it out of me. I’m scared to admit I want to write, in case I never succeed. A friend might say “This is Rosie, she’s a writer”. And I bluster, “Oh, well, not at all really… no… I’m just… it’s a pipe dream actually… can never be my proper job…” And so on.
But writing is a competitive place. It is difficult to succeed, and those people hiding in the background mumbling that they “do a bit of writing when I get chance… nothing publishable of course…” – they are more likely to get overlooked and remain in the background. I need to stop this depreciation before it becomes a habit.
The people who push themselves forward and believe in their own work, who are constantly thinking of ways they can show people that they are writers – those people will do well, and people will believe them.
I need to have confidence in my own work, otherwise no one else will either. I need to believe in myself, to the point where I can stand up in a bar – at an Open Mic – and read something I wrote. And if people applaud, and say well done, I need to smile and thank them confidently. I need to be assured of my writing and believe I can do well, because no one else is going to do that for me.
I am Rosie and I want to be a writer. And that is fine and good.