Monday, August 2, 2010
Writer’s Mark
When I worked in corporate America I wore “plastic clothes”, a moniker I bestowed to denote both the fakeness I felt wearing them and the material of said garments. Not to say the time spent was all bad: I made a good salary, I have a nice retirement, I met my closest friends there. I worked hard and was successful, but I never truly belonged.
On the weekends I wore my freak flag proudly, donning my weird and (to me) wonderful clothing. And then there were the tattoos. Like most, I started small, placing one on the inside of an ankle so it would be hidden. Then I got another on my shoulder. Followed by a big one on my lower back. All safely covered by those plastic clothes.
I’m getting another tattoo next week. But this time it’s rather obvious…on my right wrist. My husband, although never telling me what to do, noted, that will be in plain view, you know.
I know.
I was going to wait on the Official Writer’s Tattoo for when I made it big. Then I could truly say I was a writer. And writers can have tattoos any place they want. But I was thinking the other day if I truly believe I’m a writer, then why have I placed such an arbitrary standard on myself?
Usually if asked what I do for a living I would say I’m-a-retired-psychologist-from (insert big name company)-but-now-I’m-trying-to-be-a-fiction-writer, in one breath. I realized I was doing that because 1)I needed the “smart cred” and usefulness justification from my old profession, and 2), I didn’t feel as if I were a “real” writer unless I had a best seller.
But something happened a few weeks ago when I was asked. I started to say my line. Then I stopped, looked the person straight in the eyes, and said, I’m a fiction writer, you? We had a lovely conversation. And I believe she will be buying some of my books.
Next week I will get that new tattoo. Each one I’ve gotten so far has been in response to some sort of life change. This one may not seem like so much of a milestone externally, but the internal shift it represents is tremendous.
Of course, now I have to come up with something really cool when I do have that best seller. :-)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment