Who Is A Writer – a cooking pot and twisted tales

When the children resume school in two weeks, my hustle and rat race triples! Phew! I am already sweating mentally at the thought because no matter how much I try to make things work in auto control, there are many days when the wheels of my auto shuffle go wonky.

When the Summer holiday was approaching, we anticipated endless weeks of fun and relaxation (for the children at least), now the weeks have flown by so fast leaving chubbier cheeked children and their mama behind to deal with the consequences of our happy indulgences. No complaints from me. I’ve learnt that when you eat the cake, be happy with the memory and quit worrying about the calories.

I haven’t made much progress with all my work-in-progress in the past weeks, but that’s okay. I refuse to feel guilty for spending time with my family – I’m being productive in other angles. When the time comes, I will continue with zest and hopefully enough inspiration to get my third/fourth books done.

Let me make a confession to you, there are days that I wake up and wonder to myself if I am truly a writer or a pretender to the throne of writing. Is there a time when I’ll feel that my writing is good enough beyond passable?

I know that most times, I’m especially hard on myself when I have floundering thoughts on how to break through the invisible walls of this chosen path of mine.

When will that breakthrough be? Does anyone know when?

Jacqueline

Thank you, Linda, for the prompt ‘when.’ I don’t know how you do it, but your prompts always play into what’s going on in my mind.

If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion, it doesn’t matter a damn how you write.
– Somerset Maugham

It is perfectly okay to write garbage—as long as you edit brilliantly.
– C. J. Cherryh

The above quotes repeats in my head when I think of my writing and encourages me to trudge along.

Someone once asked me how I decided that I am writer and my simple response that I have lots of stories to tell which left a blank look on her face made me feel as if I spoke Greek. Now and again, her blank face surfaces in my memory and I begin to question myself.

When I am struggling to put down the riotous thoughts in my head into a readable format, the question rises again and sometimes, a tiny voice of doubt tells me, ‘YOU ARE A FRAUD!’ WRITER YOU ARE NOT!

I have learnt to slap and shut the impish voice down, to go ahead and scribble my nonsense and leave it at that.

Well, seeing such quotes from established authors does tickle my fancy bone, and I have come to realize that there is no perfect writer. We just write that which needs to be written and leave it at that.

Written for Writer’s quote Wednesday.