Am I a Writer Yet?

December 1st, 2016

In the early 2000s, I submitted a short story to a collaborative book published by Mimi Publishing. I wrote about my work with people diagnosed with dementia. I wanted to inspire the staff in long term care and loved ones of individuals with dementia to stimulate and appreciate the person within the illness. When Mimi Publishing was ready to start its second collaboration, I submitted a more personal story. This time, my aim was to write about my childhood in a less than ideal low income neighbourhood in order to reach out to at-risk teens. The message to my story was that you can't choose your lifestyle when you are a child but, as an adult, you can design your own life regardless of your beginnings. The lady who edited my text, focused on the biographical aspect of my story and, by the time it went to print, there wasn't much left of the motivational part of my story. I was disappointed and never really sold that book to anyone.

Years later, I interviewed older adults living in my neighbourhood and submitted their stories to the local paper. I enjoyed doing this and ended up being a reporter for some time, visiting local businesses and interesting individuals to document what they were doing and why it mattered to the people in our community.

I enjoyed writing. I was able to use my creativity and people wrote to me or spoke to me when we bumped into one another to say they loved reading what I wrote. I approached a friend and artist Meredith Luce and we collaborated on a deck of art therapy cards. These cards were meant to help ease women going through painful life transitions by suggesting art therapy directives they could do from home with cheap materials.

I started volunteering in my daughter's class. I wanted to design workshops that taught life skills such as friendship, stress management, healthy boundaries, constructive self-expression and self-care but I couldn't find a book about the healthy expression of anger or frustration. This led me down the self-publishing path and my first book was born. Have You Hugged Your Alien? was my tool to initiate conversations with elementary school children about the normalcy of their emotions.

I followed up with a second book dealing with sibling rivalry as children adjust to a younger sibling. The first book was popular with teachers, therapists and parents. The second book was used by parents and the workshops were mostly in libraries or after school programs.

Last January, after chatting with my friend Chris who is a writer, I expressed my desire to write more often but my confusion about how one goes about getting paid for their work. Chris has been my informal mentor since then, pointing out grant application deadline, writer's festivals and events as well as associations that support and promote the work of writers. I have learned a great deal from her. I figured if I wanted to feel like a writer, I needed to write every day. So, I started this blog and I have written on most weekdays since then. I also write in my journal.

This past weekend, I attended the Small Press Fair in Ottawa. I was really scared but I got registered  and showed up anyways. Mandy from Classic Graphics had prepared a huge sign for me with a bio and a copy of the title page from each book as well as my logo on it. She did a great job, as usual. I found a table, under the gaze of the other writers who were already set up. I noticed they all had table cloths, really good quality ones. Oops! I scrambled back to my car and, luckily, I had a Dollar Store tablecloth in my truck, leftover from Wednesday's workshop. It would have to do. I finished setting up my table and acknowledged my neighbours, the ten sets of eyes sitting across from me. I felt like such a newbie. My sign was way too big. Everyone else was way more discreet. I felt like a nouveau riche surrounded by people who came from old money. "One of these things is not like the others". I stayed, I met interesting people, made excellent connections and now have one small press fair under my belt. It turns out that many of the people around my table were also new to this. Everyone was nice and supportive. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Now, I am writing a book for women, The Mommy Monologues. I am interviewing mothers from every walk of life. I have written a quarter of it already. I am humbled and moved by the tremendous stories of love and courage that these mothers are sharing with me. I used to be an art therapist who also liked to write. As time goes on, more people introduce me as a writer who is also an art therapist.  I was thinking about this on the weekend. I felt like an imposter. I didn't study English literature, I'm never sure if my grammar and punctuation are acceptable, English isn't even my first language. I love to write and do it every day but I still feel like a liar when I say I'm a writer. I wondered what makes someone a writer. There are plenty of successful authors who did not have a background in English Literature. There is an equally impressive amount of people with an English degree who have yet to write anything. So, this leads me to my question: Am I a writer yet?

I feel like an art therapist who loves to write and does so to help people connect and heal. I proudly call myself an author because I have self-published books however, I still feel like a fraud if I call myself a writer. Perhaps this next book will be a game-changer for me. Who knows? For now, I am just enjoying the writing process, the therapeutic value in people telling their stories to someone who is hanging on their every word, the sense of hope and connection that women get from recognizing their story in someone else's narrative and, the pride I get for bringing these amazing women together in one book.

Anne Walsh
www.artnsoul.org