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Showing posts from August, 2013

Writing is not glamorous!

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We were in Poděbrady a few days ago, and my husband met some people who were looking for the best spring in town. He led them there, then brought them back to our hotel cafe for a drink in the sunshine.


As we chatted, one of the woman asked what I do in Prague. I told her I am a writer. Her eyes got big and round, and she said respectfully, "that's so great!"

What could I say? For me to say I am a writer is no different from saying "I am a chef, a teacher, a bricklayer or a masseuse." It's what I do, and it's hard work. I know she meant well, but I am so uncomfortable being elevated in someone's eyes because I do what I am compelled to do. I write.

 If I had a choice, I'd be an Olympic ice skater, perhaps, or a polar explorer. Maybe I'd rather be an actress, or a mom with seven kids. But my gifts lie in writing in various genres, so I am a writer. I have been at it since I can remember, at first in my head (when I was quite a little kid). It mi…