Yes, You Are a Writer

October Reminds Me…

It’s October. Hard to believe, but it is. I have to keep checking my calendar to confirm; time-wise, it still feels like it should be April. Working from home, it has been easy to get lost in time these last seven months of the pandemic. It’s still relatively warm out, too, but the fall wind tends to temper any heat. I went for a short run today and relished in the perfect temperature. I pushed myself as I ran, but I also took time to notice the leaves that the wind was teasing off the trees. The yellow, orange, and red backdrop is one of my favorite parts of autumn.

It’s not just the weather that reminds me that it’s October, though; it’s also the number of admissions essays that land in my inbox for editing. And these essays remind me of something I’ve been thinking about for several weeks now, which is the labeling of oneself as a “writer.” Some of us willingly embrace such a title, while others shy away from it, often thinking it doesn’t fit them. I have frequently encountered academics who have written dissertations, chapters of textbooks, and/or countless scholarly essays and articles, yet they still don’t consider themselves to be “writers.” I’ve heard multiple people say they’re not real writers, even though they write (and maybe have even written a whole draft of a novel), and I want to tell them, “Yes, you are a writer.”

When I’m reading and editing some of these admissions essays, I think, wow, I could never have written something like that when I was in high school. Many are written by skilled writers, students who have a knack for expressing themselves on paper. That’s not to say that the essays don’t still need editing; they do! But it’s also important to separate these two tasks; editing and writing involve two very different skill sets. Not every skilled writer is a skilled editor, and not every skilled editor is a skilled writer. Besides that, it’s also very difficult to edit your own work.

Similarities Between Running and Writing

So, who gets to call themselves a writer?

I actually think this is a loaded question that requires a much more critical analysis than this blog post can offer. But, for simplicity’s sake (and for something of an answer), I’m going to compare it to running for a moment. It took me several years to say the words, “I’m a runner.” It still embarrasses me. I’m not a real runner. But I run. I run for fun, and I run regularly. I’ve participated in plenty of 5Ks, 10Ks, and even a few half-marathons. I have never hoped to win anything by running; my goal is just to complete a race. More to the point, my goal is to stay active and healthy. So, can I call myself a runner? I think I can. As long as I don’t precede it with an adjective such as “competitive” or “fast.” I compete with myself, but that’s it.

There is a mistaken notion that “writers” are only those who have been published. Or those who are actively trying to get published. And those who are considered “creative writers” tend to be more definitively classified as “writers” than those who are academic writers. This, to me, is something of a problem.

According to a 2017 article in Inside Higher Ed, “The problem is that one image of writing dominates the popular imagination and is weighted with value more heavily than all others: writing as ‘creative writing,’ which is treated as if it’s interchangeable with fiction and poetry.” The article, “Let’s Banish the Phrase ‘Creative Writing” by Cydney Alexis, was insightful and eye-opening to me, and it has prompted me to delve into my own writing history. (I’m not necessarily agreeing with “banishing” the phrase “creative writing,” but I do think it’s worth reviewing/reassessing our societal perceptions of some of these terms.)

Creative Writing Vs. Academic Writing

Not surprising to most people who know me, I excelled at my English and writing classes in both high school and college. At the same time, though, I can vividly recall answering essay questions in my non-writing classes (e.g., Biology, Social Studies) with the same vagueness and lack of focus that I’ve often had to take my students to task for.

I often wrote in circles, not having any idea of what I was saying or how I should be saying it. In English class, though, I applied everything I learned or was learning and earned A’s, and I wrote well enough to earn a 4 out of 5 on my AP (Advanced Placement) English exam, a score that allowed me to place out of the required basic composition class my freshman year of college.

So, what was the difference? Why had I been such a blathering writer in subjects other than English?

It’s been more than twenty-five years since I was in high school. That distance allows me to look back a bit more objectively on who I was. I was a good student, but I also wasn’t a very good student. Good grades came relatively easy for me; I didn’t want to work too hard. I did, however, work hard in my English and Spanish classes. Those subjects interested me, and learning English grammar helped me with Spanish grammar and vice versa. The two classes were relatively complementary, serving to strengthen my love of language and communication.

My weakness, though, was that I didn’t seem to be able to apply the writing skills that I used and honed in both English and Spanish to any of my other classes. Instead, I fell back on generalities that a lot of students fall back on, especially students who don’t like to write. I wrote technically well (good spelling, good grammar), but my thoughts on paper were often chaotic and shallow. I considered myself a writer (or more like a wannabe writer at that time), but to me that meant I was a creative writer–someone who could write fiction and poetry. It didn’t mean I could write effective history papers. Naturally, I know better now, hindsight being what it is.

Reflection

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on my academic and technical writing background. I’ve been writing a “history” (of sorts) of my growth as a writer, some tidbits of which may occasionally appear in a blog post. Specifically, I recently thought back to the first technical writing class I took (in college, about 23 years ago); I remember feeling very indifferent about the class. I did well in it, but I don’t recall particularly enjoying it. It would be at least ten years before I took another technical writing or editing class, and it was quite a different experience that second time around.

Technical (and academic) writing didn’t become a focused interest of mine until maybe ten or eleven years ago, which is when I discovered my passion for editing technical and academic writing and began consciously developing that skill. My eighteen-year-old self would probably roll her eyes. And that’s precisely why, when I read seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds’ admissions essays, I’m impressed with their ability to express themselves so coherently.

Many of these students whose essays I edit are applying for science- or medical-related fields, and they probably don’t consider themselves to be “writers,” even though they will likely write much and often as they head down their career paths. When I read their essays, though, I see them as writers–as talented students who have deep thoughts and are able to express those thoughts and ideas surprisingly well and coherently. They demonstrate honed critical thinking skills, something I’m sure I lacked at their age.

So, Who Gets to Call Themselves a Writer?

So, back to the question at hand: Who gets to call themselves a writer? It’s still a complicated question, I think, but the short answer is this: You do. I’m a runner because I run. So, if you write, you’re a writer. It doesn’t matter whether you’re writing blog posts, scholarly essays, or poetry. Creative writer? Academic writer? Technical writer? It doesn’t matter–you’re a writer.

I perform the physical act of writing every day. I write emails and texts. I write comments on social media. I write notes to myself and notes to clients. I keep an off-and-on journal, and in the morning, I usually write down my dreams from the night before (provided I can remember them). I spend much of my work day editing, which, although different from actually producing writing, is still an act of writing. When I have time to myself, I work on revisions of my own stories.

But do I consider myself to be writing–actually writing–each day? If I were holding a Magic 8 Ball, I imagine it would say, “All signs point to no” (assuming it’s that insightful). The truth is that I only tend to think of myself as writing when I’m producing something creative on the page.

Even as I write this blog post, I don’t think of myself as “writing,” though obviously I am. It’s interesting, what we think of as “writing.”  It seems to show many of us as harsh critics of ourselves, underestimating our position as writers–it doesn’t matter whether it’s creative writing, academic writing, scholarly writing, business writing, or any other kind.

Yes, You’re a Writer

I’m honestly not a big fan of labels, but I cherish labels such as “writer” and “editor.” We create our own identities, identities that can change regularly, but those are two of my identities that have remained consistent throughout my life. In that way, I think that they’re important labels (at least for me). One’s identity is an important part of self.

Last year, guest blogger James Mock contributed to my blog, sharing his writing journey; and if you read his post, I think you might find that his words speak to the idea of how hard it can sometimes be to convince ourselves that our words matter enough to call ourselves a “writer.” Part of it, of course, has to do with societal expectations of what writers do and what success as a writer means. The label of “writer” tends to carry a lot of weight, even as many people don’t seem to think writers “do” anything. (But that’s a whole other topic…)

As I write this, I hear rain hitting hard against my windows. It sounds like it’s coming down in sheets (to coin a phrase…), and I’m thankful I got my run in earlier today. I’m also reminded that fall brings with it the weather’s inconsistencies of temperament. That is to say, it’s sometimes warm, sometimes cold. Sometimes sunny, sometimes stormy. As much as some of us may dislike the cooler weather, this variation is another aspect of fall that is lovely. And it’s a reminder that writing inspiration comes in waves, too. We are not always consistent in how we view ourselves or how we view an act such as writing. The only thing consistent is that we are always changing.

If some days you feel like a writer more than other days, that’s okay. You’re still allowed to own the label and pin it to yourself. Yes, you are a writer.