Writing Fridays

I spent most of my morning avoiding writing like the Plague, lingering at the babysitter's house, grocery shopping (a task I normally loathe) and even venturing into someplace named "The Creativity Craft Store." Clear avoidance. But then I broke out my exercise book and spent a few hours writing, and it feels awesome -- with a minor stopover in Guilt land because everybody else at work is so busy.

And then I remembered: I DO NOT GET PAID TO WORK ON FRIDAYS.

Anyway, I loved this:

So we're all floating around in a state of confusion and insecurity, looking for publication as our only real measure of success and validation. And because so few people get published, and even fewer then go on to making any real money, are we all failures? Are none us writers? Are we all wanna-bes?

Tricky question. I have long defined myself as a writer, before I got anything published, before I got an agent, before I made a dime. I have known I was a writer since I was twelve, maybe even before that. And how? Because I didn't want to do anything else but write. All I wanted to do was write, ever, always, and amen.

I guess that we are writers if we write, if we write all the time, if we improve, and if we want to do it more than anything else. I'm not absolutely positive, but I believe that I am a writer. And today, if you are writing and not looking back over your shoulder too often, you can be one, too. -- Caroline Sharp

Well, then.