I’m a writer. I’m not trying, I’m not hoping, I’m not aspiring. I write. I’m a writer.
You are too, you just need to cut the bullshit and believe it.
The mind is a powerful thing. Perception equally so. Be a writer, and the world will see a writer. Tell the world you’re a trier, and people will walk right through you.
How are you supposed to convince other people if you can’t convince yourself?
Do you blog? You’re a writer. Do you scribble? Write poetry? Lyrics? You’re a writer. Do you slave over unpublished manuscripts written in the blood of your failed relationships? Congratulations. You’re a fucking writer.
“But wait!” You say. “Don’t I need to be published to be a writer?”
“Fuck you.” I reply.
Welcome to the internet. Get yourself a blog, upload some words and you’re a published writer. Congratulations.
Just because you don’t publish books or earn your living through writing doesn’t mean shit. I don’t. 9-5 me is a strategist in a social media agency. I earn a good salary, but ask me what I do? I’m a writer. I tell stories for a living.
Whether I’m writing ad copy or prose, strategies or novels, I’m just telling stories. That’s what I do. I’m a writer.
If you do this solely because you want to try and make some money, then you’re an asshole, and fuck you. If you do this because you’re compelled to, then you’re a writer, and you’re awesome.
Hopefully you can make some money along the way to pay for groceries and lapdances.
How you carry yourself affects how people percieve you. Cut the bullshit, the ‘trying to be’, the ‘aspiring’, the ‘hope one day’ and stand up for yourself. Tell the world you’re a writer.
It works for hacks (insert name of terrible popular fiction author here), who manage to convince the world to read their godawful fiction en masse. It’ll work for you, John Q. Bumblefuck, writing fiction out of a basement flat in the middle of Who-Gives-A-Shit.
The greatest trick any writer ever pulled was convincing the world he knew what he was doing.
First step; cut the bullshit and be a fucking writer.