Some time ago I was in my boss’s office, telling her about a lunch meeting I had with an author I met at a writer’s conference. We were going back and forth about how some writers feel that all they’ll need is a contract with a publishing house and they’ll be set for life and can quit their day job. She's laughing, seeming to enjoy my recap of the very eccentric encounter. I continue vocalizing my thoughts about authors wanting to be traditionally published without an audience, how they need to build a platform, and how they can’t just make it in on good writing alone anymore. And in the midst of my rant, she says, “You should be a writer. Have you ever thought about that? You have a writer personality.”

Uuuurrrrrrrrkkkk! [Screeching halt sound] A writer? Me? Yeah… I don’t know about that.

Contrary to what has been said of editors, I am not an editor because I failed as a writer. I love what I do. I love editing. I love being on the encouraging, relationship-building, and content-development side with authors. I love… I love… I love… There isn’t much I don’t like about what I do, and while I do like to write I’ve never thought I had more to say than what can fit in a blog post. What do I have to say?

My boss's words left me a lot to think about. First off, she is not an amateur. She is responsible for recognizing and building many of the authors whose book sales pay my salary. She is wonderfully gifted in acquisitions and at playing the bad cop when authors pull out the diva card. How could I not give her comments a second, third, or fourth thought?

But really how could I be a writer? Do I want to be a writer? What would I write about? Who will read what I have to say? Is what I have to say enough for a book or two or three? Shouldn’t I know the answers if I were supposed to be a writer?

What about you? When did you know you were supposed to be a writer? Did you know right away what you needed to write about or did that develop over time?

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