As I sit in my room at 6:40am on a cold Sunday morning, I wonder what the hell I am doing!
It all started at Christmas, just two months ago, when I had an idea for a story. I often get ideas for stories but this time was different. It was different because I started to write it down.
Usually, I create stories in my head and say to my wife, ‘this would make a good book.’ She listens patiently, or not so, and I let it float away whilst I get on with my life.
So, what was different about this story? Nothing really. What was different was me. I decided that I was no longer ‘a reader’ but ‘a reader AND a writer’. To give you an idea how big this is for me: I last wrote a story at high school.
Now I’m near fifty and I’m suddenly calling myself a writer?
A writer – Someone who writes with the intention of sharing their writing.
An author – Someone who writes and has published their writing.
I don’t know if these are valid but, as I step into this exciting new world as a writer, I fully intend, one day, to be able to call myself an author too.