I am reluctant to call myself a “Writer”. I feel it’s a bit disingenuous to hang my whole identity on an activity I do less than 5% of the time – if that. I mean, I spend 33.3% of my time sleeping (or trying to sleep) and I don’t go around calling myself a Sleeper or even (more accurately) an Aspiring Sleeper.
Of course, one might argue that so much of what I do with the rest of my time informs my writing and I’m always thinking about it – thinking, thinking, thinking… But then, one might also argue that so much of what I eat informs my bowel output. ‘Nuff said.
My husband – who is currently working on his own Top Secret writing project – and I often accuse each other of writerly behaviour.
“Oh, you’re such a Writer!” we say to each other.
When my husband complains about something trivial, I toss a casual “Go write me a sob story, Writer Boy!” his way.
And when I say I need to take some time out for my blog, his retort might be something along the lines of: “Well, you’d better grab your beret and go find yourself a fucking street cafe.”
Of course, the time he said that to me, we were staying in Blinkton at my mother’s house, which is at least 50 km from the nearest street cafe – unless a cup of instant coffee in a polystyrene cup drunk while squatting outside the local truck stop counts. Is that behaviour befitting a Writer? I can’t remember Nicole Kidman doing it during her turn as Virginia Wolf in “The Hours” so I’d say not. (Note to self: must buy prosthetic nose).
Anyway, it must be said my husband goes a bit strange when we’re in the country, and not just because he often does a lot of goddamn writing there. For one thing, he fancies himself as a bit of a Country Boy and starts offering to write “Spirit Of The Man On The Land” guest posts for my blog.
For another thing, he makes grand statements like “I understand The Land. Unlike you city writers. You’re like Vincent von Gogh staggering drunk around my sunflower plantation. OF COURSE the sunflowers are going to look all squiggly when you’ve drunk that much absynthe.”
And I’d say he has a good point if he wasn’t being such a goddamn writer about it.
Anyway, if you’re wondering what has sparked all this writer talk, I’ll give you the lowdown. I just got one step closer to being able (but perhaps not yet willing) to legitimately call myself a Writer. As of yesterday, I became a guest blogger on kidspot.com.au . There’s a retro-NDM piece up there now but there may be some freshly-baked posts up there one day soon.
Oooh, look at me! I’m a guest blogger on a major Australian parenting site! La-di-dah!
(What a Writer.)
Well done, but I can’t find you on the site. Where do I look?
Just changed the link – for some reason it was going to the site map, as if it was trying to help us “find a fucking street cafe”.
well done NDM! do tell me when u find that multi-purpose beret!!!
Good for you!
I can really see the value of a beret. Bound to cover up weetbix and/or vomit in the hair, not to mention those days when 30 seconds of shower-time doesn’t quite extend to shampoo.
Ooohhh and I think this lifts my commenter status by association!!!
If you’re still on the hunt for dairy free egg free simple recipe awesomeness, I do have a recipe deemed to be quite top notch…
Well yes, yes, this is all well and good. But I want a book, with a cover and all, and a special message inside saying ‘Dearest Aussie Waffler, I owe it all to you, thanks for banging on like a broken drum about getting the book done. Eternally grateful. NDM xx’ No pressure at all 😉
If one writes, one is a writer. As far as I can gather that is what you have been doing for a long time now. The difference is that now you are one step closer to doing it & getting paid for it. Once you get paid for writing this will officially make you a lucky bastard as well as a writer. Until you get writer’s block when you will fly me down there to Pilate you & give you shoe advice until it goes away. Sorry, did I just write that out loud?
Good to see you at Kidspot.
Love your comments to your husband about being a writer. May buy a beret myself for Christmas in the hope that someone will banish me to a local cafe. 🙂
you ARE a writer
bloody good one too
nuff said
Well done, luv! Now put on that beret and pour yourself a nice sherry!
from one aspiring sleeper to another – truly well done oh well written one
Oh you are totally and absolutely a writer! And a damn good one, actually. I think most writers spend the majority of their time not actually writing but thinking and planning and trying to find time to steal away to write.
At least that’s how I justify it when I’m curled up on the couch with a mug of something watching The Office and painting my toes and my boyfriend asks me if I’ve done any work on my book proposal yet and I snap back that “I’m RESEARCHING!!!” Which makes no sense whatsoever since my book isn’t about tea or nail polish or Ricky Gervais, but if I shout it loudly enough he doesn’t question me and instead sets about doing the dishes or tinkering with his guitar.
Anyway, all I’m saying is that I still think random bits of living count.
I think I’m even going to count writing this comment as bringing me one step closer to greatness.
Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay. 😀 That is all.
Well done, NDM!
You rock my world, NDM! Now go rock the rest of the world!