I am not a firefighter, you are not a writer.

I hate when people ask me what it is I do. I cringe a little when the questioned is posed. “So what do you do?” Sometimes I make things up. “I’m a horticulturalist,” I’ll say. “I wait tables.” “I work for the state.” And the sometimes I tell the truth. “I’m a writer.” And it all goes downhill from there.

No one is prepared to hear someone say they’re a writer. They can deal with someone who is a journalist, or someone who works at a television station…but not someone who boldly declares they write. There are several different phases of disgust and/or wonderment.

Phase One: Sure you are.

I’ve had people actually believe that I am either lying or joking when I’ve told them what it is I do. And when I don’t recant? Well, they just get pissed off and sometimes walk away.

Phase Two: Novelty.

“How cute.” “That’s neat” “Really?” Need I say more?

Phase Three: So are they.

I love when I tell someone I am a writer and they tell me they are too. My next question is “What medium do you publish in?” I’m a short story writer. I want to know what they write, maybe even share craft ideas. They usually say, “Oh I just do it as a hobby.” Really? Cause I do it to eat. It I put out a grease fire with baking soda, I wouldn’t call myself a firefighter. If you write bad poetry or if you model your narrative after “real life situations” (i.e. there’s a murder at the grocery store to solve…and you solve it in 5 pages) you are not a writer.

I’ve been writing on a keyboard since I was 7. I have been published numerous times. I’ve won awards. My degree is in writing. I’ve been invited to read before crowds of people. I am a writer. I’ve put out a grease fire with baking soda before. You know what that makes me? One lucky son of a bitch whose house didn’t burn down. Not a fireman.

So if you are a writer, you better be proud. And you better have tough skin. Because unless you become the next Grisham or King, you’re always going to be that cute little person with an interesting hobby.

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