What is an author? A writer? Instead of going down a serious path, I thought that today merits a few of the sillier definitions.
You know you are an author when:
– you spend HOURS with your imaginary friends
– instead of asking WWJD, you catch yourself wondering what your protagonist would do
– when you awaken in the dead of night, you’re scared of your own villain
– your family becomes familiar with new “relatives” (characters in your novels)
– people in your inner circle ask after your main character like they know him/her personally
– you spend hours in solitude, but feel like you’ve been at the best cocktail party ever
– your most developed muscles are in your hands and forearms, from writing so much
– the line between your reality and your story blurs
– you create a world
– you are an architect, a tour guide, a world traveler – between the pages
– the story has to be told, and you are the instrument
– your life takes you on a grand adventure: through your own imagination
– you have multiple children: flesh and blood, and black and white
– your labors are exhilarating
– you can use your words as you were told when you were a child (only now you can kill people off with them haha)
Happy Thursday! Blessings to you…
