Shhh…I’m A Professional Writer

It’s been a great day. I’ve finished another story, climbing closer to completing Scenic City Cafè Volume Three. I’ve also been scheduled to appear at our local Barnes & Noble in June and October. It’s during that conversation that the B&N GM refers to me as an up and coming “professional author”.

I laughed, but didn’t rebut his praise and title. It was after our conversation ended that I realized that I am a “professional writer”. I may not be playing in the same division that the King’s, Koontz’s, Patterson’s, and so many other writers that can currently pay all of their living expenses from their writing career…but I’m still a professional writer.

There comes a time when a man or woman finds that one thing that makes his or her work seem like play. It really happened to me today. I dream about worki…oops…playing in the green, still fertile fields of my imagination.

I may not become financially wealthy from my writing, but I’m happy. I am very, very happy.

Tomorrow morning, while you are at your job…the job that you love and love going to every day, picture me…sleepy eyed…a cup of hot coffee at hand…my cat Emmie snuggling around my feet…and the voices of thousands clamoring for my attention between my ears.



I Am An Artist…

I haven’t added anything to this blog in a while…no one really noticed. That’s okay. Sure, one day I’d like to have a group of people–the number is unimportant–that wait impatiently for a pearl to drop off my blog or Twitter page, and report it to the world.

That ain’t today.

What today, and yesterday, and the days before that, were the days that I got my hands dirty in the muck and mire of my art. It is my responsibility to mine out the few nuggets that Calliope has allowed me to have. I still have to find them and transform them from rough pellets into priceless artifacts.

So if I’m not posting religiously…I’m either dead…or I’m down in the mine…toiling, and looking for the nuggets she left me.

A. L. Gates