A List of Don’ts
Honor a writer’s efforts. Honor their time. Honor their odd little qwirks. You don’t have to understand them to honor them.
Let me be more specific
To those who know me:
Don’t as me how much I got done because I am never “done”.
Don’t ask what else I do because writing is enough.
Don’t ask about my “real” job is because writing is real.
Don’t assume that when I’m driving my car I’m not “working”. You see, wisdom incubates when I drive.
Don’t assume that when my hand is empty and my book is closed I’m sitting idle. You see, it takes idle sitting to remove you and every other distraction from the work table in my mind.
Don’t assume that when I’m walking in circles I am wasting time. You see, when I walk around myself, words break lose from my brain.
Don’t assume that when my eyes are closed I’m lazy, avoiding work, napping unnecessarily, or being irresponsible with time. You see, the visions dance behind closed eye lids.
Please don’t pity me when my hair is in disarry; please don’t be ashamed of my humble existence. Don’t feel sorry for me, don’t tell me how impossible it is or how unrealistic I am, and don’t make insinuations that I’m just some little girl who idles away her time writing silly little dreams in her diary.
To strangers who see me in public:
Don’t come talk to me. Don’t ask me what I’m doing and don’t tell me about your own life (if I care, I’ll eavesdrop),
To everyone who ever sees me scribbling anywhere at any time:
Writing matters. Whether you know that or not is irrelevant: it matters to me.
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