I’ve called myself a writer, been told I’m a writer, hoped I could be a writer. So am I a writer? A writer who teaches writing a la Donald Murray? Or am I kidding myself?
In some ways, I think the dissertation writing process has killed any writer-ly instincts I once had, but when I hit a good groove–a groove where I can see my own voice working itself out–I feel like a writer again.
Here’s to hoping.