I met with my writing teacher yesterday to get a signature so I could take her class this semester. During our brief conversation, she said that after reading my stories from last year, and from hearing good things about my writing from a mutual friend, (I quote) "I think you could be a writer."
Um. Well. Okay. I thought that however raw my attempts at making up stories, I was already a writer. I thought that by sitting at my computer night after night, taking the advice of my teachers and friends, tightening up my stories, learning the craft as fast as I can, I was a writer. I even thought back to the years I wrote a newsletter for my friends, reviews for the church, articles for this or that, and darnit, even then I thought I was a writer. Her statement was a shock.
After some time to think about what she meant, I've decided that she meant a Writer. With a capital W. A person whose work might one day be read by lots of people. And so, I'm taking it as a compliment and moving on.