When am I a Writer?
I'm having an identity crisis about my standing as a writer. Can anyone tell me when I can declare myself "a writer"? Do I become a writer because I write, no matter how badly? Did I become a writer immediately I first had something published? Or being identified as being its author? Did I become a writer when I was first paid for my work? Will I become a writer when I win a competition? Can I be a writer only if I earn my living by writing?
When did you consider yourself a writer? And how did you justify your decision? Does your self-perception tell you you are a writer? How do others perceive you and your writing ability? Do you, like me, need others' assurances that you are a writer? All those questions! All that insecurity! My perception of myself and my writing doesn't allow me to claim the title of "writer." I know I "write" this column, and other pieces for "Link," but it's hardly creative or award-winning material. I also write a tenpin report for our local paper, but bowling's my sport and the sports editor publishes exactly what I write. The work merely serves to fill his pages. Others may consider me "a writer" on the strength of that, but I can't place too much significance upon it.
"Old Yorkshire," a neat local history magazine out in June, is carrying an article about Rudston, near Bridlington. I accept I took the photographs, and I also accumulated the facts and figures I needed. These were assembled in what I hope is an interesting and informative way so that readers can learn something of the village. But . . . There's always a "but" with me. But, I claim, surely all people who write are able to do this!
Is what I am looking for some sort of achievement in "creative writing"? Will my self-perception only accept me as a writer if I win a competition? Right, I'll start with the NAWG competitions. The one I'd love to win is the journalism category. I am not a journalist - and never have been - and to win a journalism award would be very satisfying.
Poetry? You have to be joking. I haven't even one poetic brain cell. Short stories? No, I can't see any of my three entries being successful. I enjoyed creating them, and again they may be considered competent, perhaps even amusing, but prize-winning? I don't know. The novel categories? Sorry, I didn't enter them. I haven't the stamina, or the courage. The one-act play? I had an outrageous idea then pummelled it, cajoled it and beat it into the framework. When it was completed, I still thought it good enough to submit. But winning? [Here Editor shakes his head!]
If I am extremely fortunate, I may soon receive notice that I have been short-listed in one category or another. When in competition with the expert writers in NAWG-affiliated groups, that is credit enough for me.
At the end of the day, I suppose, I have to admit that, perhaps . . . maybe . . . I am "a writer." I entered eight of the eleven categories in the annual NAWG competitions for 2000 - even poetry, rhyming and free - and to do that I had to write.
Perhaps that is the mark of "a writer": A person who makes a commitment to put words on paper which fit a specific category, which fulfil all the requirements of the rules of the competition, which are buffed and polished to be as perfect as possible before despatch and which fill the creator of those pieces with a sense of achievement.
But one year, eventually soon I trust, I may be short-listed and subsequently chosen as a winner at the Festival of Writing. Perhaps only then will I consider myself "a writer," because an experienced individual in that field has judged me competent to be so-called. Surely all we "writers" feel the same insecurity and it is that insecurity that keeps driving us on to perfect our work.
Mike Wilson (from Link magazine, June 2000)
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Addendum: Since the above was written, I was fortunate to win the ten-minute one-act play category with "A Cacophony of Devils," which the judge commented was "a highly witty, original satire" and "highly entertaining." Along with that achievement, I managed to be short-listed for journalism and for the 100-word mini-tale. So am I a writer? By my own yardstick above I must be, but I would still have difficulty in answering the question: "So, what are you, Mike?" with the words "A writer." - Mike October 2002: Since the above article was written, and the addendum, I have discovered something that is difficult for me to comprehend. Over the seven years that competitions for creative writing have been held by NAWG, I find I have amassed more points than anyone else. For the explanation to that: click here |
Mike Wilson receives the certificate for Best Ten-Minute One-Act Play from Alison Lister at the 2000 Presentation Ceremony.
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