Happy Mother’s Day to any mothers who might be reading this! Hopefully, my mother received her gift and card from me already. I had the best time picking out her card. It is next to impossible to find a Mother’s Day card from single biological child to maternal parental unit in this area. But if you want one to send to your ex- mother-in-law, you have a choice of roughly ten to fifteen! I wish I was kidding!
This seems like the perfect topic to talk about today, too, because my mother has expressed a wish for me to get over myself and work on getting my writing published.
I’ve really struggled with this idea. I’ve always written. Mom will tell you this. I was a fabulous writer in middle school and high school. I’m sure my mother received more than one concerned note that, while I was doing brilliantly in most of my classes, I was always writing stories instead of taking notes. In my conservative college prep school, I’m sure that was tantamount to paving the road to hell.
As an adult, I still write. You can see that I maintain a number of blogs. I also write short stories, novels, and fan fictions (which I’m embarrassed to admit are mine strictly because of the fandom, which I actually like). I’d never try to claim I’m actually a writer, though. I’m too busy hiding behind my shyness and my fear of being fake.
The other day, I was reading through my aggregator (that practice gets me into more trouble!), and discovered that perhaps I am a writer after all. A self-published one, but a writer nonetheless.
It’s very odd to think that I could seriously tell someone that I’m a writer, and not have to qualify it as a hobby or anything. The directors and teachers always tell the writing students in the center that I’m one, anyway. Perhaps I ought not to turn several shades of red and backpedal from it any more.
That would probably make my mom very happy!
