I am a writer.
There is no sentence more frightening, fraught, over loaded, or unnecessarily questioned for your average writer than this one. Except, perhaps, “What are you working on?” Or maybe, “What have you published?”
And it’s a definition thing.
A writer is one who writes. I write. I write a ton. Whether it’s morning pages or the 672 started stories that I gave up or another blog post to send into the ether, I’m always either thinking about writing or writing.
Which would make me one who writes, beyond a doubt. Yup. My trusty Oxford Paperback Dictionary tells me a writer is “One who writes or has written something.”
Check.
But then not. Because there’s a big difference between telling myself I’m a writer or my family or my friends telling me a writer and me telling the world (hi there) that I’m a writer.
So I came up with a trick.
For 2023, I am pretending to be a writer.
Pretending in the same way kids pretend to be pirates. I am putting on the costume and play acting my way through this year as a writer.
Which is not the same as the old “fake it until you make it.” At least, not if you ask me. Because faking it seems to be something we do for them, the watchers, our audience. I’m pretending for myself, for my own exploration, play, and joy.
My family protested.
“But you are a writer,” my loving husband and two kids told me.
They’re right. To be clear, I’m not questioning my status as one who writes, but pretending to be a writer is about making choices a writer would make. It’s a playful way to take myself seriously.
And it’s working. January was a very good month for pretending to be a writer. Here are some of the things I did:
submitted two finished pieces of writing
pitched a magazine article (first time)
checked out a bunch of books from the library to look at and put them down if I wasn’t fully engaged (reading just to get to the end is for readers, not writers)
found a craft course I’d like to take
became a member of the Writer’s Guild of Alberta
hosted a writing group at my house - and booked two more in February
met writing friends in cafes to write
decided to apply for a literary arts grant
drafted my writer CV
asked friends to read and comment on my drafts and did the same for them
It’s not bad for pretend, don’t you think?
I also decided to work on getting my social media going again since having a strong social media presence is part of having a strong writer CV. If you aren’t already following me, check out my slowly reawakening Instagram feed.
Essentially, when faced with a variety of options, or a situation where I have to make a choice, I’m asking myself, “What would a writer do?”
And that’s why, when my amazing neighbor suggested I join the Writer’s Guild of Alberta, instead of wondering if it would be right for me, I thought, “A writer would join,” and I joined.
I’ve also had my first rejection email and more, probably many more, will come. But somehow deciding to pretend to be a writer is doing more for me writing than anything else I’ve tried. I think the biggest difference is that this feels playful. I’m pretending. There are no stakes. There is no calling me out because between you and me and the world, we know I’m not a real writer, I’m just pretending. Any victories will be amazing surprises, and losses will be well anticipated, and any lessons will be real.
And it’s the last part that matters. I am already learning so much.
So, why not pretend to do a thing you want to do or want to say you do? Pretend to be a photographer. Pretend to be someone who works out. Pretend to be romantic. Pretend to be a reader. Whatever it is, what if you pretend it? What if you give yourself the freedom to play at the thing? What would someone who’s pretending do next? Do that.