A story about Aleza
by Aleza
When someone asks me what I do for a living, I freeze up on the outside. On the inside, my mind takes a leap off a tall building.
Typically, it goes something like this …
“Ask me what I do for a living, I dare you.”
YOU: So, what do you do for a living?
ME: Umm … (awkward silence)
INSIDE MY HEAD: What do I say? Should I say “writer”? That’s the quickest, easiest way to go. I mean, I am a writer, technically, though writer implies that I spend my time in the physical act of writing when, in fact, that's a pretty small portion of my time. "I run a writing business," is a more accurate response, since my survival as a commodity is in my own hands, but that's still only part of the story.
I could share that I’m a journalist and a copywriter, but those jobs are like apples and oranges. What about the other things I do like page design, technical editing, ghostwriting, editorial direction, research, blogging, HTML, CMS, traveling, proofreading, and copy editing? Don’t even get me started on job titles.
Working as a reporter in San Francisco and Las Vegas, I’ve written about every topic imaginable. I’ve won regional awards for headline and entertainment writing. I can’t forget about my poems and my children’s book.
This is so much easier to explain with a resume or a PowerPoint presentation. Maybe, if I pull up my LinkedIn profile … Now, where did I put my phone?
How about, “I identify as a writer”? Oooh, I like that, but it might not land well. I’ll tuck that little gem away for later.
Writer. Writer. Write Er. Wright Errrrrrrrr. Isn’t writer a weird word? What does it even mean? Writer? Write what? Right? Fiction writer? Paperback writer? Songwriter? Writer’s block. Writer’s cramp.
Why are you shaking your head? Do I have something in my teeth?
Can you hear my thoughts!?!?
Oh crap, you asked me what I do for a living and now I appear to be having a stroke. Don't just stand there, Aleza … say something … anything …
ME: Umm … I'm a writer.