Tom Clancy passed away this week. In case you live under a rock or something equally remote. I’m not a huge Clancy fan. I’ve read The Hunt For Red October, but to be honest, I liked the movie better. I know, I know….I always say read the book first. I did. I liked the movie. I didn’t know Clancy used to be an insurance salesman. He was an insurance salesman. I’ve spent this week thinking about that.

I was a teacher. Stephen King was a teacher. Maya Angelou was a high school drop out, single teenage mother who ran a cable car, worked as a waitress and a night club singer. She’s a Pulitzer Prize winner. Amy Tan wrote business catalogs. You see where I’m going with this? I’m a writer. It’s more than okay to say that aloud. I’m a writer. I will eventually make a living. I will be a strong selling author. I may even become the next Tom Clancy or Stephen King, heck, I’d even take the title of the next Stephanie Meyer. I will.

I believe in signs….those little reminders that you’re moving in the right direction. I don’t necessarily think they’re messages from on high, but I do think they could be things your subconscious is reminding you. Everything that’s happened since The Beard and I decided to go for this writing thing full time has moved us further down the line towards more writing. I’ve been in situations where obstacle after obstacle has cropped up to hinder your path. That’s nor the right path. Here’s a little reminder from my subconscious yesterday. You bet writing scares me, but it also thrills me, nurtures me, energizes me and inspires such enjoyment and pleasure that I don’t want to contain it.

I’m a writer. I will without shame or embarrassment promote my book. I will write the next one and the next one. I am a writer.