City Dog / Becoming a Writer

Dreamed on 2014.02.17.0352

"But it's the obvious thing if we're both going to be downtown today."

"Really? I mean, I don't feel safe. Someone could steal her, or she could get lost or something."

"No, Bee's a good dog. Anyway, she's ready for this. This is what people do. We'll bring her down and let her go in the middle of the city. Then at the end of the day we'll go back and she'll be there."

"Oh, alright."

Anyway, we drop her off in the middle of the city and then walk for a while and she follows us. Then I have to clean up a mess she makes in a Subway - clearly she got into the potatoes at home.

Later, I'm emailing a younger friend of mine who's in a creative writing class. He asks me at what age I considered myself a real writer / what is the ideal age before you can be a writer. I gave two answers. I think I won't be a real writer until I'm 112 years old. Also, when did you ever write something that made someone feel an emotion - any emotion? That's the moment, regardless of publishing, etc. Third answer: when did you write a thing? Then you were a writer. When did you stop writing a thing? Then you weren't a writer, but if you make a habit of writing a thing fairly often, then you're a writer the same way that someone who skis fairly often is a skier all the time, but someone who skis once a year is only a skier while skiing.

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