Why You’re a Writer

What do you have to do to call yourself a writer?

When I first started teaching at the university level I was unnerved when the students would call me “Professor Haddad.” I was like, don’t they know I’m just a grad student trying to pay my bills?? I attempted (and failed) to get all of them to just call me Marcella.

I mentioned this weird disconnect to one of my old professors from undergrad. He told me, “Well, when you’re doing the action — ‘professing’ — you are a professor.”

I mean…isn’t that right? You do the action, you have the title? Why attach random hoops to jump through? Who does that benefit? Sure, in this example, in other areas of my life no one would call me a professor. But I learned in the context of a class, where I was the only instructor, it made the most sense.

As you can guess I’m about to try to connect this to writing. At first this sounds a bit discouraging — ok, you can call yourself a writer when you’re writing. Then we get into this endless cycle of guilt whenever you’re not writing, and then you’re always trying to write or shame yourself into writing so that you get to feel like a writer. But that’s just more hoops to jump through again.

Whenever there’s this way of thinking, like we have to ‘pay our dues’ or ‘be initiated’ or read the right authors or get accepted into the right programs or get published in the right places, then we enter an endless cycle. It’s literally endless. Because you can meet one criteria, but there will always be another. Over and over. It’s a habit to always look for the next switch to flip.

The problem is that what we think is a finish line (getting published, finishing a book, getting into an MFA program, etc.) is just ONE task on an unending list. If we show up to our writing every day attempting to overcome or achieve something, we will always feel that lack. We’ll always be chasing, and that never ends. Achievement doesn’t end that feeling or way of thinking, it just makes you look for the next bigger achievement.

This has especially been on my mind because I see this pattern or habit as a product of capitalism, which is one of my greatest enemies, especially when it infiltrates our way of thinking as artists. If there are always achievements to be achieved and dues to be paid, when will it end? And how desperate will we get to achieve them? How much money will we spend in an attempt to tilt the balance so that we can finally be done and arrive, and be able to claim that identity or title we are searching for?

It’s exhausting.

Here’s how I’ve been trying to defeat this way of thinking recently. I try to do everything because, not in order to be.

For example, I might start in this cycle:

• I force myself to write every day in order to be a writer.

• I submit and try to get published in order to be a writer.

• I pay for an intensive class in order to be a writer.

• I try to get feedback in order to be a writer.

• I apply to prestigious programs in order to be a writer.

Doesn’t that sound exhausting?

Here’s what the flip side looks like;

• I open my google docs and add notes to my novel because I’m a writer.

• I read my friend’s work and get feedback from them because I’m a writer.

• I submit to journals because I’m a writer.

• I invest in books, classes, and community support because I’m a writer.

• I share my work on social media and promote it because I’m a writer.

There isn’t really any external force that can make you something. They can change your life or the world around you or the way the world sees you, but they won’t affect the way you see yourself until you manually flip your switch.

Another reason this has been on my mind lately is because I’ve noticed many of the writers I’ve been working with showing up, sharing, and writing because they’re writers. This makes such a difference in our community.

When you’re a writer, your feedback and observations on your peers’ work is valuable, more nuanced and worth listening to. When you’re a writer, you are curious and engaged in the literary world and its movements. When you’re a writer, you commit to producing and sharing work so that others can enjoy and learn from your brilliance. When you’re a writer, you have contributions to the conversation and wisdom to share.

When we work to create instead of working just to work, then we get to be open to things feeling easy. We get to observe our process without forcing ourself to suffer in order to earn brilliance — we get to listen for inspiration and invite it in with ease.

As I’m in the midst of putting together a calendar of classes for 2023 , I’m thinking about the groups of people I hope to bring together with these different endeavors. I want to continue to connect the amazing writers I know with each other so we can all be inspired.

So, my invitation to you, for all of my classes and this new membership — join because you are a writer. Show up as a writer. You may have things to learn, and we have lots to learn from you. We’re all in it together writing towards something that doesn’t exist in the world quite yet.