"Are you a Writer?"

I did say yes. It felt amazing to own up to my self-declared identity. I told her I mostly write online, via blogs and such. She proceeded to quiz me on what my future writing endeavors were, and I told her I wanted to be a novelist. "What kind of novels would you write?" This was too good to be true! I almost went into a rant about my science fiction epic, but the train arrived, sparing her and her mother.

Looking the Part

I was so elated for the rest of the day. I felt like the world had gotten around to acknowledging what I'd been working to realize. Of course, an actual piece of published work would be a better acknowledgement, but this was hinting that I at least fit the part. I don't feel like writers really ever look like they work in literature. Construction workers have their hardhats, police officers have their uniforms, bankers even have their power ties and briefcases. Writers just wear whatever they feel like. But maybe we give off a certain vibe.

I was a little surprised at my reaction at first. I was still afraid to admit that I am a writer, because it doesn't mean much these days. Except that the girl said it with such admiration. I think that there is still some cache associated with being called a writer, even when everybody blogs and can share their ideas, in this world where actors and TV personalities get far more exposure. Writers are the workers of our cultural foundations in literature, those who manipulate the words that underly everything we talk and think about.

Or maybe I'm reading too much into this. Whatever it's signficance, it felt good.

- (**