|Posted on February 28, 2011 at 11:55 AM|
I work nightshift. When I am done at work, I take out my pc chair and my little IKEA table and I open my laptop. I heat my supper and I write and eat. Then write, serve customers and write some more.
One of my regulars came in the other day and he's like, 'You watching movies?'
"Nope, my book.' Proud I was of saying it.
"You write?" Scorn.
"Oh yeah? What do you have published?" Sneer.
Basically, he belittled me. I would like to say that I spit in his face then hauled him out of the store. But I didn't. Why not? Well, I physically can't for one. But seriously, what's the point? Years ago, I wouldn't have been so proud. I used to sort of tuck my head between my shoulders and self consciously say, "Well, maybe one day I plan to write.' Then change the subject really fast. I don't know why. I just did.
So I patiently told dweeb face that I was in the process of getting published. He laughed and said what if you never get published? I shrugged. "I'm still proud of what I've done. Being proud makes me happy and writing makes me happy. Period.
So, I'm a writer. Period. :0)