Simple enough. Normally this doesn’t satisfy them, and they say something alluding to the fact that they wish for me to expound upon what I do. Then, most times, I say that I am a writer. Then I get one of these responses: “oh.” “cool! what do you write?” “do you have a real job?”
Normally I raise an eyebrow after this question, and this is what runs through me head, simultaneously: “as opposed to a ‘fake’ job?” “who said writing was a job?” “good bye.”
Why do people feel compelled to let me know that, being a writer, they feel I am wasting my time? I never thought that what I do to earn money had to define what I am. If they asked me how I earned money, I would tell them. But if I am asked what I do, or something of the sort, they will get an answer that portrays me as a writer, because, in my mind, that’s what I am. That’s what I do.
I may not always be good at it. I may not always do it. But still (everyone repeat this mantra) that’s what I do. And I take it seriously. It insensitive to act as if I just do this as some kind of silly hobby, because that it is so much more. If some one were to say that they were a pianist, wouldn’t that merit some respect? Maybe I get such a response because to be a writer, you don’t really need to invest money into it. There is no instrument to buy, you don’t have to take lessons, or go to recitals; you just… write.
So… what am I? A Freda, of course. What am I? Ultimately, a human, but I’d like to think of myself as a writer. And no, it isn’t my job. It’s just something I do.