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A Piece of My Mind: The
Second Annual "When Do You Consider yourself a writer?" Column Bennet Pomerantz The success of last year's column lead to this year's column. I had over one hundred entries for this year's annual event. I hope, in the first quarter of the year, to do a secondary column for the rest of this year's entries. These are these writer's words, uncut and uncensored. One day while perusing a pile of "stuff" on my desk, I read an amazing
paragraph, was really into it when I realized I wrote it! Amazing. Here is my two bit's you asked for. .. With a bit of thought I can say
that a person becomes a writer when he/she puts to paper thoughts that
someone else would want to read (with the exception of students writing the
required and greatly dreaded term papers). A successful writer is someone
who can puts words to paper that encourage deep thought discussion and or
just enjoyment for the reader. An author is someone who has managed to sell
this work (some say prostituted) his/hers ability for money. But then we all
got to put food on the table somehow. I consider myself a writer when someone I have given my story to read
tells me later; "When I started reading your story I became so captivated by
it that I just had to read it all the way through. It was like watching a
movie. You described every scene so well that I could visualize everything
you wrote about. I consider myself a writer when my reader can see the thing that I am
expressing, in a more better image than I. If my readers can hear the
characters' cry, if their heart rides upon each word, and their minds are
hopelessly caught within the realm of the world I created; when my readers
are thirsty for more when the story is finished, then, and only then, do I
consider myself a writer. He is a writer who writes-for this single determining factor
distinguishes writers from mere dreamers and pretenders. Many people
mistakenly attach conditions, such as publication credits or money earned,
to justify the title of "WRITER." However, few would argue that dear Miss
Emily was a failure, though most of her works were discovered in a drawer
and published posthumously. I don't call myself a writer. I tell people "I write." I don't associate
myself with the occupation, but the craft. I'm not published, yet. But I am
honing my craft regularly and that is more important to me as an artist. If
I don't write almost daily, I feel like I haven't taken my first breath of
the day. As for myself, I have written since the third grade. So, when did I
consider myself a writer? The day that someone else thought my work was good
enough for others to read, enjoy and appreciate. Hmm, when is one a writer. The quick answer for me, is when you get paid
for it, but I have been paid for writing and don't consider myself a
"writer." I consider someone a writer if they have a desire, if not a
compulsion to write, and said desire causes him/her to produce written items
whether paid or not, whether fiction or not. I suppose by my own internal
definitions I am a "hack." I will produce written material on demand for
money, but have little to no desire to write for any other reason. Not
counting the several email lists I am on where I write to "hear" myself
pontificate. Writing is too little a focus in my life for me to consider
myself a "writer," i.e. I don't define myself that way. My definition of
myself focus primarily on mom and wife. By the way, animal care technician
comes in there too. Just a little view from the inside of my brain. When I was 12 years old and decided there was NOTHING in our book-filled
house worth reading... I decided to write a book, and then I'd have
something good to read. Been writing ever since. When you find yourself having to write every day. Even if all you do is
scribble ideas in a notebook while having coffee at your favourite lunch
spot, and it will be a part of some writing that you will extend on later.
When everything you see and hear starts you thinking about how you could
work them into a story, a poem or an article. When everything you read sets
your mind to working out how you could make a story or an article out of it.
When you are writing something, anything, and it will not leave you alone
until you have finished it to the best of your ability. When you work on
those ideas and reach the point of writing those special words - The End.
That is when you know you are a writer. Well, that one is very easy. A few months ago, my mother in law passed
away and everyone was asked to do something for the wake in her honor. I
wrote a poem. On the day of the wake my sister in law read it to the people
there and when I saw tears in all their eyes, I knew I was a writer, for
writing is an emotion for me, and to finally see that I could effect people
that way was very touching and enlightening to me. Unfortunately, though I spent much of my free time actually putting pen
to paper--writing short stories and finishing my novel, Pinned--I did not
consider myself a writer until I climbed the most final hurdle and had
Harcourt's commit to publish my novel, Pinned. I first thought of myself as a writer since I was in high school over 20
years ago. But what really made me consider myself as a writer was writing
Rosemary Sage and the Man in Black. I am currently working on the
sequel. I considered myself a writer when I realized that reading my environment,
deciphering the stories coded into it and sharing them with others is
central to my existence. All our mortal lives we try to cloak within us this
emptiness, this void with colors and stories, weaving blankets covering our
neonatal exterior. Blankets pile up one on top of the other while we wriggle
our puny bodies kicking our feet in glee. We can't live without these
stories. We have to be constantly surrounded by them, their warmth, like a
pleasant whir of the electric warmer churning vibrations that in turn
generate patterns of sounds we interpret as pleasurable. Most of us have to
put in a certain effort to maintain our story lines. We have to feed our
characters, take all their major decisions and remain in a constant fear of
wearing out our stories prematurely exposing our emptiness in black or
white. Two things have made me realize that I am a writer, albeit not published
at this point. First there was the encouragement of a "real" writer (Mr.
Pomerantz) to continue to work on my skills. And second is my habit of
reworking my writings, never quite satisfied that it is done as well as it
could be. Even this small note took several rewrites. I considered myself a writer after a sequence of events. In the
beginning, I started several stories, but never finished them. When I made
the commitment to finish the 400-page manuscript and stay glued to the
project for six months, I had never felt more like a writer. The new status
solidified, when friends invited me to an event that I normally would have
jumped at the chance to attend, but instead declined because I was still
writing the story. This story - Open Your Heart - was my first sale in
romance fiction in 2002 with BET Books, with an additional two novels and
one novella to my credit. My next latest releases are with BET in Spring '06
and as one of the launch authors for Harlequin's new African American
romance line in September '06. I awoke this morning with a memory in mind of when I was younger. My
father and I were discussing what I was going to do in my future. I replied
"I am going to live in British Columbia, Canada." Dad laughed asking me
"What about the cold weather? You hate the cold. There's a lot of snow and
cold there." I cringed at those words. With a tilt of my head I smiled,
"I'll be a writer working at home with my dogs for company." I woke up with
that scene echoing in my head. I realized groggily that I live in Florida,
with my dog and cat, married to a U.S. Marine. My reality is a far cry from
British Columbia and the quiet life of a writer amongst her dogs. This
inspired me to answer the question "When did you consider yourself a
writer?", heh, "This morning." A writer is a person who writes, right?" my12-year-old daughter asked
when I asked her question, 'What is a writer?' She was right, in the general
sense of the word, but I -have never thought of myself as a writer, even
with two novels and three short stories in various stages of completion in
my word processor. I'm a storyteller-although one who writes his stories
down so others can read them. I didn't call myself a writer until I had my
first book published, and even with that, I still feel more like a
storyteller-a storyteller who types! A writer can be one who writes, but
that doesn't mean he writes well. An author is one who has a published book,
but that doesn't necessarily mean that it is a good, well-written book. A
storyteller doesn't carry any false promises or labels. He just tells
stories! When I was in elementary school, I truly enjoyed writing stories. My teachers encouraged this love of writing with positive comments and reinforcement, as they most likely did for many of the students. After I graduated from high school, my writing tended to be only for
college assignments. Now, nearly twenty years later, I find that writing has
become a valuable part of my job that I truly enjoy. As a school
superintendent, writing is an important way to communicate with the patrons
of our district and has become somewhat of a creative outlet for me. I am a writer when the pen meets paper and it feels smooth to my touch,
and I can hear the scratching of it against the surface of that paper. The
writing possesses my senses as if it is separate from me, yet it flows from
within. Even on the computer every click of a keyboard-key is music and I
need no other distractions - no television in the background, no music on my
winamp, no cat purring by my side. The free-flowing prose is my harmony.
This is when I am a writer. I've been a storyteller all my life. My earliest memories include telling
stories to my dog using my Ken and Barbie dolls as main characters. I wrote
my first mystery novel at the age of 12, loaned it to a friend to read and
never got it back (I'm sure it was a masterpiece!) I finally got up the
nerve to send a completed story to Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and, with
the return mail, knew I was finally a real writer. I had received my first
rejection slip! I considered myself a writer when, after writing 20-something years, my
38-year-old son finally read a story and said, "Mom, that was really good."
I considered myself a writer at nine-years-old, when one of my poems was
published in my school's glossy magazine. It seemed like, in the
millisecond, my happy childhood ended, as the verbal and physical abuse at
home escalated. Coupled with being raped at 14 years old, I was emotionally
silenced and sequestered by the secrets. Writing became my
saving-grace....As I grew older, I attempted to show the world a
well-adjusted, funny, and extraverted woman. It was only in my writing that
my real voice could be heard. It dared to whisper a different story. Words
befriended me, flowed from my soul, and spilled onto thousands of pages over
the years....At age 49, my first book was published. When you are standing behind a register, punching numbers, and realize
this is not what I want to do in life. When the words come at you from
nowhere and all you want to do is share it with the world. When you are
heard. When there is a crowd before you that listens to every word. Or a
reader who can feel the emotion. Or when a friend, one person, says "Wow!
That was deep". I consider myself a writer when I put paper and pen before
me and let the words flow. I consider myself a writer when everybody says "
What kind of dreams are those?" and yet, I still continue to write. I've
always been a write and always will be a writer. I consider myself a writer
when the words I put together, whether spoken or written, strikes certain
emotions within the listeners. I consider myself a writer when I write. I recently read a comment by one of my favorite authors saying that
glimpses of a different reality were not often given to the qualified.1 That
was very comforting to me. If I waited until I felt qualified enough to call
myself a writer, I'd be waiting a long time. The actual moment when you
consider yourself a writer is something along the lines of either waiting
until you feel like one, or deciding that you are one. I think it's the
latter. I considered myself a writer from the time I could remember until the
possibility of attending a journalism college was no longer an option in the
early 60s. In the mid-60's, I considered myself a writer when Reader's
Digest published a household cleaning hint I submitted. I considered myself
a writer when one of my poems was published. When I began writing software
manuals in the early 80s, once again I considered myself a writer. When my
son sent me his college thesis to review the night before it was due (in the
mid-90s), I considered myself a writer. When I designed, coded and
documented proprietary database systems as a stand-a-lone contractor in the
late-90s, I considered myself a writer. Out of necessity, I re-invented my
professional accomplishments and sold myself as a technical writer. Once
hired, I considered myself a writer. In the early 2000s my college teachers
said that I should become a writer. And, this year, two months before my
Mother died, for the first time, she told I was a good writer and that I
should continue writing. I will believe I am a writer to the day I die
because of the gift my Mother gave me, my work, and the writing ideas that
continue to flow. Some of these ideas may be written on the other side of
eternity because there are so many of them. I do believe. And I do believe I
am a writer Growing up I have always had a vibrant imagination. At first, it did not
occur to me that I should share that imagination with the world. I never had
a desire to be a writer. Yet, I became a writer because of the ills of our
world. I was extremely irritated by a lot of the problems in the world. I
tried to ignore them, however, something within encouraged me to start
writing about the things that were eating at my soul and my heart. I came to
the understanding that one can attack the social ills and the apostasy
through the arts. I began to attack them by way of crafty plots and
storylines. Therefore, I considered myself a writer when I decided to use
the gift of writing as a tool to fight against that which fights against
humanity. I thought of myself as a writer when I finished my first book. By the
time I completed the third and fourth manuscripts, I was sure I was writer.
Every conference workshop I attended and newsletter article I read said you
are a writer if you write. And I wrote, consistently, regularly and
completed books. When I sold my first book, suddenly people who I would
never approach approached me as if I were a long lost friend being invited
into the club. That's when I felt as if I was a writer. A cohesive explanation of such a question relies upon one's mental
recognition of accomplishment. Mere chronology is unlikely to yield anything
more inspirational to the reader than a self-promotional acclamation of
virtue. I knew I was a writer when I saw my mother weep after reading the
Mother's Day card I made for her when I was nine. Well... perhaps. However,
the litmus test for such a pronouncement would seem to be a bit more complex
if considered from a non-subjective point of view, especially if scrutinized
by one's peers. The mere act of scribbling words upon paper, even with the
most noble of intentions, no more qualifies the scribbler as a writer than a
football thrown across the yard to a friend on a Saturday afternoon
qualifies the tosser as a quarterback. I became a writer when I simply could
no longer not write, when writing's importance overcame fear of rejection,
inertia and/or lack of self-esteem. No other evaluation is necessary. I believe you are a writer when that is the one thing you cannot imagine
yourself never doing again. While I have been a writer since early
childhood (1970's), I only began to be published professionally in
2002-2003. Still, I have always favored writing over speaking and have
always considered myself a writer , even when I was afraid to say it out
loud. There have been many times when I should have been able to call myself a
writer. The first time a stranger came up to me and said, "Hey! You're the
writer!" should have worked; when I realized that people were copying my
columns - sometimes without permission - should have done the trick; when my
publisher sent me flowers after a good review from the Associated Press;
when the copy editor for the Greek translation told me how much she enjoyed
my novel. But still I was reluctant to claim the noun as my title. What gave
me the courage was when my accountant told me that my writing expenses were
indeed deductible. If the IRS accepts me as a writer, then, hey! - I'm a
writer. When did I become a Writer? Could it be the moment my imagination could
soar? Or when I fell in love with the written word? I believe I became a
writer when I knew that the thoughts trapped in my brain, had to be shared
with others. I was then a writer. Even if it did take me some time to begin
the process of pen to paper. When I was 8 years old I remember writing a poem about owls in the
night...and learning that I loved to express myself in that way. I think my
dreams of becoming a writer began then. As I went through school, my writing
was recognized and I appeared in the local and state student magazines.
After eighth grade, I was sent to the University of Charlottesville for a
summer writing program. My writing by this time had become very dark and I
was constantly being sent to the guidance counselor because of it. So there
was a period when I no longer showed my writing to anyone, and when I did
write, it wasn't much. In my early twenties I renewed my interest and sent a
few things out to magazines. To my shock, all of them were accepted. But I
did not continue with it and for a long time did nothing further. Then, in
2002 I grew serious about it. I was off work for medical reasons and as I
always have, I turned to writing as a release from my depression. I knew
that it was my gift, so to speak, and I decided to do something about it. I
began a database to keep track of my submissions. I created a website. I
began submitting, and more amazingly, selling my work. I considered myself a
writer. Now, with almost 100 sales, one collection, and another on the way,
I can say without embarrassment, "I am a writer". The epiphany came to me when I realized that writing was the only thing
that could both express and facilitate my personal and professional
aspirations. Of course the "skill" of writing is learned over time, but the
burning desire to express the world through written word at some point
transforms the true writer into a willing captive. One's written "voice" is
expressed only when passion and skill work hand-in-hand. One cannot be fully
realized without the other I wrote my first poems, songs and plays at age nine. Unsuspecting, I
wanted to be John Lennon. I continued to write songs and poems through my
teens and wanted to be the lead singer and guitarist of an all-female heavy
metal band. At sixteen, I gave birth to my daughter, Stephanie, and tried to
become very practical. I was unsuccessful. Others suspected I was a writer
when I was twenty. I wrote my first children's book. My friend Mary
introduced me to ee cummings. My mother told me I'd be famous. I knew I was
a poet at twenty-three, when I wrote a poem entitled "I climbed because I
wished to fly..." I knew I was a writer when I received my first rejection
letter from the New England Review. I knew I was a professional writer when
I continued, in spite of the rejections, and perhaps more fervently because
of them. I knew I was a blessed writer when some lovely people recognized my
talent and even paid me for it. A motley shell-shocked group awaited arrangements after my father's
sudden death. Most of those assembled barely knew his recent wife. Not long
before the service I learned that the minister was approaching friends and
family in an effort to deliver a sincere, informed tribute... Grabbing a
spiral notebook I started scribbling a lifetime of family outings, Chevy
Chase summer vacations, White Sox games and little league coaching, an
uncle's support during numerous rites of passage, pinochle and poker nights
with retired colleagues, his steadfast care of our ailing mother and the
deep devotion he gave to his current wife. If I never pen a Pulitzer work,
the rambling, heartfelt notes I handed the preacher touched like butterfly
wings on shoulders of grief that night. I've been writing poetry and lyrics since I was about 12. It came
naturally to me; so, I didn't think anything of it. I also, unfortunately,
didn't consider myself a writer. What I thought I was, I have no clue. But I
certainly didn't think I was a writer. I've written and published many
things since then, including full-length poetry collections, short stories,
magazine articles, and e-books. However, I didn't consider myself a writer
until a College Composition professor said, "Yes, you are a writer!" That
was in response to an essay I'd written about my dream to make a living as a
writer. If you take nothing else from me, know that you have the right to
consider yourself a writer as long as you write and enjoy it, not just
because someone says you have to! I considered myself a writer when I consistently woke up a 6 AM and
headed straight to my computer before breakfast. When I raced to a quiet
place with a block of 30 minutes to get in whatever I seemed possessed to
get onto a page. When the muse grabbed me and shook me and didn't let go
until I was done; whether it be a day, week, month or year. That is when I
considered myself a writer. Now, I consider myself an author, publication is
due next year. My writing career began at age four. I was always fascinated by the
writing process and making my stories into "finished books." Those spiral
notebook pages carefully hole punched with a front and back cover made of
wrapping paper and "bound" with curling ribbon, were the first of my written
adventures. The recipients of these books would "ooh and ahh" about how
creative and personal the gifts were on their birthday or another holiday- I
indeed felt like a writer...Thirty years later I began journaling about a
little character called Thumbs Up Johnnie. The project began to have
momentum and an energy of it's own. At that point, I felt an accountability
to my work when I started to share it with others. I felt like a "writer and
creator" again, with the same excitement I bound my wrapping paper books at
the age of four. As The Adventure of Thumbs Up Johnnie's first series title-
"Johnnie Finds A Buddy" premiered at Sam's Club in October 2004 I felt
validated as a writer because someone wanted to buy my works in a retail
environment. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the moment that
I walked into the store and saw 350 of my books on an "end-cap shelf." That
experience to me was surreal and one of the best moments of my life. Right
there, amidst of Dan Brown and E.B. White's successful works of literary
genius, I felt for the first time. I was not just an writer, but a real
AUTHOR. A writer is, in my opinion, someone that draws you in with their words.
Simply enough there are so many different ideas out in the world, there's
bound to be someone that gets drawn in by your writing. Is there a
time-frame one must write before they are a writer? Must you publish
something first? No. Absolutely not. The 8 year old writing about unicorns,
the stressed out mother writing about childhood issues, the technical person
writing to instruct you on how to use something...they are all writers. Even
down to those who did not use modern tools. We still read and analyze those
writings. Who says my simple sentences won't be held on to, forever, by
someone with the same passions? A writer writes sometimes for
themselves...and sometimes to share. I became a writer when I began to put
ideas on paper, for me, or to share. I probably really only first considered myself a writer back when I was
in college and I had a job that required me to submit press releases to
papers on a very regular basis--in fact I was the "Publicity person" and got
paid for it! In actuality, I was a writer way back in middle school because
I had the drive to write, and couldn't resist it. It was a part of who I was
(& am)! Alas, after college I put the aspirations behind me and didn't think
much about it for the next 28 years. It was only recently, after realizing I
was still doing press releases at another job, that I began to think hard
about writing. I fell and broke my kneecap and spent 6 months on bed
rest--finally quitting the position I had. Why not focus on that great love
again? After all, I really was a writer with published work! So, in answer
to when did you first consider yourself a writer, I'd have to say -- hmmmm?
You decide! And the answer is: July 1, 2005! The first sentence in my journal on that
day announced that I was a writer. I'm still excited by that statement. But
why didn't I consider myself a writer before, as I had written other short
stories and pages of poems? What made this summer different is that I
started reading scores of newsletters and e-zines when I came across an
article that was simple and yet profound. In one sentence it said, "writers
write." Hmm, I wrote, but I also dreamed. Dreamed of writing the world's
best novel that would go right to the top and make me instantly rich. What
was I thinking? Dreamers dream, thinkers think and I needed to write. So I
dared to send submissions for online publications. Picking out dusty poems
and polishing them. Then, on that monumental day, I saw my name with my
words, published online on two different web sites. That's where I am. I'm a
writer. I have to keep momentum and enjoy my small successes along with the
hiccups until I create that great novel and continue to write. It seems that I have always had something to say about just about
everything. I credit that to someone who gave me a diary on my tenth
birthday. I wrote in secret with stubby pencils and hid my prepubescent
meanderings in a dresser drawer. I graduated to spiral notebooks and wrote
brazenly with ink, thinking that I or anyone else could never erase my
thoughts. This simple act seemed to affirm my identity and I became a
writer....a conveyor of thoughts, a believer in the power of words to change
lives and a composer of the music of words. You are a writer when that which
you have created with words, "breathes on its' own." Next month, I will be back with my witty insights and nappy banter Reach for the stars **** |
About the Writer: Bennet Pomerantz is a media review columnist in
175 newspapers with his weekly column AUDIOWORLD. His fiction and
reviews have appeared in the pages of Affaire De Coeur, Gateways, Mystery
Scene, Power Star, The Hot Corner, Washington Entertainment Magazine, and
many others. He is also known for his review appearances on the MCN
Forum. View his web site at
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