I’m coming out of the muck. I’ve been trekking through the dark and light is peeking over the mountain.
I am writing. I am thinking about writing. I am reading other writers. I am a writer.
I read a book, that kind of book. The kind that touches your soul and makes you think. The kind that you have to put down every few pages to take a moment to soak it all in. I watched and interview with the interview. She made a comment about her husband having married a writer. I wondered what she meant. When she married him, she was not a writer.
I realized I was judging her. I made an assumption based on her story and a pivotal moment when she started writing. She may have started writing then but she was always a writer. It’s in your soul.
I am writer because it is in my soul too. I am at peace when I am living a creative lifestyle.