It was Writers Fest in town this past weekend and I did not attend. We were too busy with family things and I lay feverish with mastitis the second half of it. To be honest, I have never been to it anyway (no good reason). A friend today told us it was a particularly good edition with excellent workshops. I responded that I ought to have taken one, “since I am ostensibly a writer [self-reproachful facial expression and eye roll included]”. Well, my partner A, generally very supportive of this blog endeavour, began to seethe from within until she exploded later at my nerve, at the pretentions I take on in claiming the title Writer. Firstly, A is a precise sort who likes to call a spade a spade and would have me say “I write a blog” or perhaps, “I am an aspiring writer”. I think it speaks to the kind of self-delusion she deplores in people, the self-aggrandizing, the posturing rampant in many fields but especially the creative arts. Fair enough. It’s one point of view. I certainly wouldn’t put it on the census as my occupation! I am not published, at least not by anyone else, not yet. It feels beside the point though. The way I see it, you’re a writer if you can’t live without writing. If when you are pushed against the highest, thickest wall, when you want to scream because you can’t find the words with your mouth and your brain is a thick cheese and your heart is held in a vice grip and nothing makes sense… and then you write, and then it does, you’re a writer. You’re a writer if you think with your fingers, if peace settles in the layers of your psyche when you type or scribble down letters. Darling A would argue any fool with a pen and a stickie note could claim the title. Who cares? Who are we to judge? I am not saying we will get published or that anyone will read our words. Do writers need to be obsessed with semantics? It’s a good question. A would say yes. All I know is it’s easy to judge from afar and much harder to understand why others do what they do. Now I’M getting preachy, sorry. Am I a capital “W” writer? It’s a moot point really. I write, it saves me, end of story. Thank you for reading!