Getting Used to Being a Writer

My boss told me that I am not a writer this morning.

Which I’m sad to say is true, in the sense of my job. At the Indie publisher where I work, I am not a writer. I’m not an editor, nor am I in the Editorial department. Therefore, I’m not supposed to comment on manuscripts, title queries, spelling, grammar, style or anything in relation to writing.

I am chained to a cubicle, where I can’t do what I love or help the authors I’m assisting with those kind of questions, who are also trying to do what they love. Though, maybe they don’t love it like I do (trust me I'm sure some don’t) but it is difficult to say that I can’t help them in that aspect.

But still I tell them no. Even though helping them will help my writing, it will not help my job.

Now, notice how I call it a job and not a career. I am lucky enough to have a job related to my dream career, and one that has taught me a lot about the publishing process. And even though I don’t write or edit at this job, I do help others as they move through our submission process. Which is kind of fulfilling. On occasion.

Anyway, back to my boss, he said: “You’re not a writer.” (Don’t worry it wasn’t out of the blue, it was in context to an author issue.)

So I told him: “Well that’s not true, but I’m letting him know that I can’t comment on his editing question, which is true.”

He didn’t say anything, but apparently I’m getting defensive now if people assume that I’m not a writer, even if I’ve never told them otherwise. Maybe that means that I’ll start telling people outright soon. You know, not in the removed safety of my blog, but in actual face-to-face conversation.

So I guess now I’ll have to come up with an answer to: “What do you write?”