Some chaotic nocturnal thoughts: Am I a writer?
I've been writing stories all my life. Ever since I was a small child. As a teenager, I wrote so much. I mainly wrote to process things emotionally that I couldn't process verbally or in any other way. Then there were long phases in which I only wrote a few diary-ish texts, but no stories. I always considered myself to be an artistic person. I painted, drafted, wrote, made music... Always. I need art. I love art. But I never made money with it.
Then last year something happened. I got the chance to write some proper little stories for a small start-up company and I loved it. It just happened without me thinking much about it. I only got I tiny bit of money for it, but it was highly motivating. Since then, I've continued writing and even self-published some of my stories this year. And it made me think. Does that make me a writer? Something I've always wanted? But have I even, really?
The thing is, I'm not even sure if it was actually my dream, because I don't think I believed you could make money from art. Or at least it's hard. Or at least it's not my path. How could it be. It was always this shiny, pretty thing that hovered over me. Something I kind of wanted, but when it came to practically doing something for it, I chickened out. (Guess that is indeed what you can call a dream.) Well and then I forgot about it. Until this writing opportunity fell into my lap.
I guess what I want to say is
- I am still processing.
- That I'm slowly realising that maybe both things are true. I can call myself a writer (which is actually not that hard, I mean to self-publish a book. Not that it's easy, but it's not impossible or as unreachable as I always thought).
But also: I barely make any money from it, and I don't see how I ever will. But that's okay. I'm still proud of the fact that I'm a writer.
I hope that makes some sense. I'm already pretty tired.
Good night:)