well, i joined the insecure writer's support group: insecure writer's support group . it's a blog hop where the first wednesday of each month (yes, i'm late) writers blog about their insecurities, challenges, and fears over writing and how we've managed to get past, challenge and *hopefully* triumph over them (it's meant to be encouraging--stay with me here).
there isn't a monthly theme, so i'll just jump right in.
i must have been mulling around the idea of this post all night because i had an insecure writer's dream! husband and i were in california (no idea why) and decided to go to a book signing. i've been following shannon messenger's blog for some time now and her much anticipated debut novel was released this week. that being said, it would make sense that she was the author who's signing i was attending in dream.
as much as i know of her based on her posts, she's super sweet, funny, humble, and honest, but dream-shannon was a little more snarky. for some reason i'd written something in the book ( keeper of the lost cities ) for her to read before she signed it (i don't know) and after she read it, she questioned me as a writer, leaving me bumbling for words and wanting to shrink into my chair. she ended up forgiving my insecurities, signing my book, and husband and i went on to become key players in a highway car chase. BUT what was that bit on my writing about? i'm no dream analyzer, though it was something, wasn't it?
it took me a couple years to admit i was a writer. before our kids were school-aged i could be found waiting outside the doors of the coffee shop at 7 am sharp every saturday and sunday only to sit hours on end and write. finally the baristas started asking me what i was working on, to which i'd reply, "oh, i'm just getting some work done." soon that wasn't enough and it was, "so, what kind of work do you do?" until finally i had to fess up. it was embarrassing and liberating at once.
"i'm writing a novel." there. i said it. EXHALE.
i guess the point i'm rambling my way to is that it's good (therapeutic even) to own up to your dreams and goals--even if it's just to yourself. i'm a writer. i've written two novels and am working on my third.
now, notice i refer to myself as a writer. i won't be an author until i'm published, but that's a post for next month.