Member-only story
Am I Legitimate Now?
When do I just get to say “I’m a writer”? Right now? Really? No, that can’t be right.
I made my first website last month. Whether or not I’ll have enough money to upgrade to one of Squarespace’s plans remains to be seen, but I suddenly feel very serious about being a Capital W Writer.
That’s not to say I haven’t been serious about my writing. I’ve been writing since I was seven years old. One day, I came home from the second grade determined to write a short story for an English class assignment. “It’s gonna be at least thirty pages!” I told my parents. Not the last time my plans would outweigh my ability. Still, I think I made it to three pages. Not bad for a seven-year-old.
Calling myself a professional writer, though… that’s always been a fraught and complicated thing. I am proud to be a storyteller, proud that I have some success — though certainly not financial — in the field, and proud to be a part of a community of artists who’ve made me feel less and less like the privilege of being an artist is reserved for the select few, even if the people who hold the money and the power in the arts industry tend to disagree.
To be honest, I still don’t really know what it would look like to be a professional writer.
