Am I a "Real" Writer?

Did you see Inception? That's how I dream - full color, frantic, bizarre. When my alarm went off & kicked me out of my dream this morning, I was surprised to realize my dream was about writing. I normally dream I'm trapped in a mall (I think those are about making choices) or on runaway roller coasters or trains (um, crazy life anyone?).

Let's boil the dream down to its basics: Went to a book signing with my DarkSide Publishing girls Karly Kirkpatrick and G.P. Ching, and a blonde woman told us we couldn't sit with everyone else because we aren't "real" authors. We were forced to sit in a basement - needless to say, we didn't sell a whole lot of books.

I didn't think too much about the dream as a reflection on my internal feelings because it took a bizarre turn (more on that later), but as I talked to my friend Eugene about it this morning I realized that somewhere deep inside of me, I still question whether or not I'm a "real" writer since I'm not traditionally published.

Hmmm....I didn't expect that, even though it's probably obvious to everyone else.

Since I was seven I've defined myself as a writer. Sure, I wanted to be an archaeologist or work in a museum (which I did in college - and it was amazing!), but writing has always been my refuge. It got me through adolescence (I saved all of those angsty song lyrics!) and my first marriage & divorce. Without writing, I don't know how I would have made it through those experiences. It offers me an escape and always enables me to connect with my feelings.

Want to know how the dream ended? Well, it dissolved into the DSP girls, our intrepid friend & novelist, Gregory M. Thompson, and me taking out that blonde chick and using my superpowers to call upon a shark - who ate her.

So I guess the answer here is that, yeah, I do consider myself a writer. Maybe my fear isn't so much about accepting myself - but worrying about the acceptance of others. I hope the nearly 300 people who've bought my book over the last two months agree with me. ;)