How to Know if You’re a Born Writer


All-righty, please allow me to cite Mittens Kittens blog post (You Know You're A Writer When...) ...for what you're about to witness here. Like many writers are prone to do, we transpose meanings and things, as in this case; gatherings I've amassed, based on my findings of what I know about born writers. 

1. Each of us are born wielding a passion... a passion we go back to time and time again, no matter how insignificant the pay, and menial the respect and rewards. This is the creed of a born writer; those passionate about words they'll drum up and turn into scripts, poems, articles, proposals, grants and even long lists like this one. You name it, they've written it, or will write it, up and surpassing effective eruditions written and passed into law.

2. Born writers love blogging.

3. Born writers never run out of stories.

4. It used to be, stick a pen in a born writer's hand and they'd know just what to do with it, because they've been doing it since they learned how to hold a pen, but today its stick a keyboard in front of them and they will wear it the YKW out. Seriously, and true story; One day, a little piece back though, I happened to look over to see a stack of keyboards. I thought, 'ump, wonder how I collected so many keyboards?' Then I recalled someone asking if I typed angry, which I absolutely do not, although it did dawn on me that this stack had to be interrelated with how I handle keyboards.

5.  Which reminds me; Born writers are notoriously goofy. They do simple things like what I did in my last post (oh Dear), and trust me, I'm not laughing about the matter. This is a serious issue for a born writer. But rather than spell out exactly what I did, for those who didn't catch the blaring error, let me put it this way—another true story.

For the longest I used to pronounce this one street name wrong. Over and over and very repeatedly people used to say, "It's not 'ar-ja-leaf, Rhonda! It's 'ard-lee!" But it took years, and I'm talking leaving the city and returning 20-something years later, before I went back to that street sign and just stood there and looked at it for a good while. All be damn, what do you know? That street sign really did, clear as the sky is pointless read 'Ardleigh.'

My point. I really believed everyone else was pronouncing the name wrong…For the longest time too!!! I thought like this until I really took the time to inspect the details in the sign. What this boils down to is, born writers see things, other things, all kinds of things that most others do not see. (Please don't laugh at me).

6. Which, too, while I'm thinking on it; born writers are THE WORST orators! Don't read this wrong, because I never said born writers shake, rattle and hide behind an agglomerate of papers, or the podium, or both when orating. What I'm saying is if you listen closely to a born writer speaking (which those who believe pinpoints such as shoes, neck-ties, and chill facial expressions denotes a great orator, do not), you'll discover that born writers talk in great big fat huge effigies, otherwise known as circles. A lot of them stammer and stutter too.

7. Born writers are great storytellers.

8. And great storytellers don't like nobody, and I mean NO-BOD-DEE 'f'ing' with their words.

9. And great storytellers can spin hundreds of stories based on one title. (Note: I actually tried this once. But I'll have to share the details in another post. It's that long. The title I was working with was; One Hundred Stories Lost to Rigorous Re-Writes).

10. ...And still born writers manage to write many, many stories beyond that 60,000 word count inside of a few years; and will have published them jokers too!

I'm not saying all, or any of this is me, but if this is you, then I consider you a fantastic writer. So, write on with your shameless born-writing selves!

Comments

  1. I have resigned myself to always mispronouncing words. I remember being merciless laughed at about Auntie Kay (antique).

    Maybe I'll have to write a story about Auntie Kay, sometime... :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. O, now antique sounds clever to me. When I get to mixing up sounding out things, I think I just come off dyslexic, which I actually am.

      Delete

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