In Word and Deed

So I’m a writer now?

When did it happen?

When I started the blog?

The first time I got paid?

Was it buying the laptop for the express purpose of being able to write wherever and whenever I needed to?

Was it when I put the “writing services” tab on my business website?

Was it the first time I got a swell of reaction for the words I’d sequenced and tended. Birthing prose that held within it the power to evoke and emote.

It’s hard to know.

I’ve been writing my whole life, but somewhere in the last year being someone who writes turn into being a writer and it was such a subtle transition that I missed it when it happened.

In becoming a writer I discovered a community – a shared need to take formless internal compulsions and match then with their soulmated word then escort them to a party in their honor.

But with being a writer also comes that deeply embedded but painfully sharp worry over the day when words are necessary but elusive. Anxiety over that time when you have commit your words to someone and they don’t come when you call them.

It will happen. Has happened at times already but with little consequence.

But when I say that writing is what I do, when I have broadcast my ability and my intent, there comes with it the fear that a day may come when I don’t know how deliver what I’ve promised.

When that day comes, I hope that I will face it the same way I’ve faced other commitments that I’ve needed to meet if I happened to be in a state of inspirationless fatigue. Deep breath, dig in…and just do.

Because if you are a writer you write. Just like when you are a mom you parent. Or when you are a speech therapist you treat. If it is what I am then it is what I do.

And there, my friends, is joy.


  1. I love this. You truly inspire me. I work full time, I’m a mom to a 2 1/2 and 4 1/2 yr old, and wife. I try to write when I can. Someday, I hope to have more time to devote to writing. This post gave me hope that one day, I too might actually got from “writing to being a writer.” Thank you.

  2. I love this.

    “If you are a writer you write…….And there, my friends, is joy.”

    You are SUCH a writer.

    It has taken me a long time to say the words “I am a writer” out loud. I don’t know for sure when that became truth, but I know that I am finally able to claim it.

  3. Oh my sweet, writerly friend….I do SO appreciate this post. I do.

    Because through this past year, I’ve felt the transition in my thinking. That I am a writer because I write. And it’s not always good or moving, and sometimes it means something only to ME.

    But your words always move me in one way or another. To laugh, to sniffle, or to think.

    And you are SO a writer. It happened. Boom.

  4. This made me think – am I writer? I write often, six days a week, but in small increments – my children demanding most of my time.

    Am I writer? I blog.

    Am I writer? I have done writing prompts.

    Am I writer? I’ve never been paid for it.

    Am I writer? I’ve made people laugh and cry, all through writing.

    Hell yeah I’m a writer.

    Now if onlyI could be a “paid writer.”

    Great post.

  5. This is very thought provoking, Lori.

    I’ve often wondered whether all bloggers consider themselves writers.

    I don’t consider myself a writer. I consider myself an observer and commentator. And I’m okay with that. I think everyone needs to get to a place where they’re comfortable with who they are and what they do.

    And I am very glad that you know that you are, indeed a writer. :)

  6. There are writers who blog and bloggers who write…not hard to figure out which one you are friend.

    “Birthing prose that held within it the power to evoke and emote” indeed you are a mother a million times over.

    1. Yeah. What Yuliya said.

      You are a writer. And such a talented one at that.

      And also? You’re a pretty kick-butt graphics lady. Yes, I’m talking about your Paint skills.

  7. Yep.

    I know “yep” n’t sound very writerly. But everyone above had already taken the words out of my mouth (or fingers, as it were).

    Still. That’s a whole other issue with writing. And not what your post is about. Your post which was lovely. And true. And very writerly.


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