Am I really a writer?

What makes a writer? Does publication make a writer? How much? Do you have to have written a book, published a book, sold a certain amount of books to be considered a "real" writer?

Maybe two nights without enough sleep, a hubby on the road for business, three kids down with a stomach bug, and a fair amount of client work keeping me from the novel has just put me in a general funk... And I confess that a recent passing comment from an acquaintance has put me a bit on the defensive about what I'm doing with my novel... But I find myself today ruminating on the idea of being a "real" writer.

Am I a real writer? I've been making up stories as long as I can remember. In early elementary school, I was fascinated by the Walt Disney version of "Peter Pan." I wanted to be Wendy -- or maybe a less annoying version of Wendy who Peter would prefer to visit. I used to add to the Peter Pan saga every night in my head as I fell asleep. The next night, I'd pick up at the last thing I could remember and keep the story going. This was my habit for at least two years, I'm sure. And I still do this -- I still fall asleep "writing," making up stories or working out plot problems or developing characters. The movie plays in my head till I fall asleep, and then I start again the next night.

I've always been gifted with language. English was my favorite subject; history was a close second. I remember in high school doing a grammar pre-test and scoring so high on it that the teacher didn't have anything to give me for work. Since she needed to grade me on something, she gave me advanced assignments. I was always a pretty decent speller, too. I would rather write essays and reports and stories than do almost anything else.

In my oddly disjointed career path, I've worked in a lot of administrative positions, but I always ended up with the writing assignments that needed doing. In my last "real" job before I had my first child, I worked as a marketing assistant for a small consuting firm and worked on a fair amount of marketing and ad copy for the company. After a couple of years of damage control with small children, I started freelancing for businesses; that was in 2003. Since then, I've worked on marketing copy across a dozen or more industries, found a semi-regular gig as a contributor to a construction magazine, and ghostwritten for executives around the world on book chapters and articles. I've also had three short stories published in "Cup of Comfort" volumes, which I suppose is the closest I've come to being a "real" writer.

So now we come down to it.... I'm working on this novel, this beast that has taken over my life since November, and when I mention it, I get mixed responses. By and large, most people are impressed on some level, if not at the writing itself at least at the output and hard work that is involved in writing something book-length. But then there are other responses....

The "In't that sweet?" response: This is the look -- the one that says, "aw, how cute -- the little gal thinks she can write a book!" I think this is my least favorite. Please take me seriously. I assure you, I am dead serious about finishing and publishing this book.

The "Really?" response: This one involves a shocked expression, a raising of the eyebrows, a tilt of the head that suggests a kind of "Seriously? You?" kind of attitude. Yes. Really. Me. I really am a writer. I've been doing it for years. Now I'm just putting the story down on paper.

The "Huh, maybe I should do that" response: I don't mind this response, because really, who am I to say who can write a novel and who can't? Please, go for it. I want you to write. But don't assume that it will be easy just because I did it. It's the most agonizing, painful, wicked, challenging, soul-sucking, soul-feeding, awesome, euphoric, exciting, and rewarding thing you'll ever do outside of parenting children. But it is not a journey for the faint of heart. Trust me.

So, if you want to respond to me with one of the above, that's okay -- I don't mind. But whatever you do, PLEASE don't imply that I'm not a real writer. I am. I promise you. Published or unpublished, I have 500 pages of poor, fair, decent, and/or brilliant work to prove it. It has a beginning, middle, end. It has characters. It has dialogue, setting, scenes, chapters, and all the other necessary ingredients of a "real" story written by a "real" writer.

I hope to heck I am a real writer. If not, what the heck am I doing all of this for? Yes, I'm a writer. A real writer. And I'll keep plugging away at this thing till I feel like I can call it done and send it out to a "real" publisher for "real" readers to read. Being a writer isn't dependent on publication. It's dependent upon sitting down, opening your heart, mind, soul, or vein, and putting quill to parchment, pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, or whatever. Yes, I'm a writer. A real one.