I got an email from a new acquaintance. She’d given me her address this past summer and I wrote a note just to say hi. In my email, I told her that I write, and gave the address to one of my blogs. FYI the three blogs are linked to one another, so I usually give people my lizbetz address.
In her response email, she joked that since she now knew I was a writer, she’d have to make sure of her spelling and grammar. Well. This did remind me of something that I’ve sensed. Or imagined. People behave a little differently around you when they know you write.
Here’s my writer’s brain thinking about this. While story telling is a natural, common part of our social world, making things up and writing them down is foreign. Even suspicious. For some perhaps, warning bells ring. SECRETS must not be revealed. On the other hand the act of writing might be considered lofty and elitist - a.k.a. ALIEN. Or there may be an element of pity and discounting. Poor dear, she thinks she is a writer.
Here’s the truth. Because I am a writer, I behave differently around people. I’ve usually got a project on the go and at one level I am always searching for inspiration. I do want to reassure you there is never any direct link to what you may have shared and what I write. It might be your seed, but the gardener/writer is a creator that spins it into a fictional world that bears no resemblance to the inspiration source. I don’t care how you spell or what your grammar skills are. Relax, my new friend.
Another interesting reaction when, as I claimed the status retired, I added that I write. The woman responded with, “Oh. So you’re still working.”
That’s very insightful.