Now, if you call yourself a writer, then you know the kaleidoscope of angst and joy and marvel and frustration and success and failure that comes with that identity. Or, perhaps you are questioning whether you can call yourself a writer? I’m surely not in a position to define it, but if I tried to, I’d say: you are a writer if at times you want to throw everything you have ever written in a big word-funeral pyre and dance around it nekkid laughing hysterically while it burns burns BURNS and you’ll instead become an artist or a cat enthusiast or anything but a writer. Instead, you take a deep breath and you get back to the work of writing.

Here’s what I imagined would happen when I received word that my “Virginia Kate” novel would be published: I’d jump up, scream WHAHOOO!, run to hug Good Man Roger, email gamillions of people, and then go celebrate with Ketel One and tonics. Here is what really happened: I’m sitting alone in the dark, sipping Deep Creek Blend, the sun not yet tipping over the Smokies. I read the email of how Bellebooks wants to offer me a contract. There is no sound but Fat Labrador’s snoring. I stand, walk dazed around the little log house, and it is hours later before I tell anyone—because I might jinx it. I have yet to have a big celebration. Hold on, I’m going to jump up and do a jig (fiddle music here). Okay, I’m back…thanks, whew, I needed that.

Anyone who writes knows the long, hard, frustrating, maddening journey to novel/book/any publication. The work has only just begun. The writing, the tweaking, the querying, the rejections, and then finally the acceptance only parts of the complete package that make the word Author. Sure, there are “overnight successes” who push out a book in three days and it’s picked up by a big time publisher and hits the New York Times bestseller list two minutes later and the author is soon rolling buck-nekkid on his/her bed atop a pile of cash. However, most seemingly “overnight successes” have worked their arses off to make their dreams come true. And then the rest of us are just awed to finally see our works in print (while secretly wishing we’ll be rolling buck-nekkid on a pile of cash *teeheehee*).

Here’s the thing, my friends: each of us is born with a purpose, even if that purpose is only to live to tell a story. Our voices matter; we all have experiences to set down on the page, secrets to whisper in the dark or take to the light, or ideals to shout that facilitate change. There is the purpose for which we live: we must reveal the stories. Thornton Wilder says, “…the work is not a thing that we make, but an already-made thing which we discover.”

So, what of your work? What do you long to say so your words are scattered to the winds of the universe, finding root and then growing thick and strong, the growth reaching up and reaching out? How will you find your way to your voice?

I’ve over-stayed my welcome and my momma would be upset with me. I hope something I’ve written reveals something needed to you—whether you call yourself a writer, or cat enthusiast. And a big Ha-UGE gigantical thank you shout out to Brian for the opportunity to come here to Eazy Cheezy and blabbervate to all of you; I am honored. Now, go forward fearlessly . . . no more excuses. And if you’re of a mind to, come visit me at the Tender Graces blog or go watch the Tender Graces Trailer. Thank y’all for reading!

Magendie is a writer, editor, and Co-Managing Editor of the Rose & Thorn Literary Ezine. Her short stories, essays, photography, and poetry have been published in online and print magazines. Her debut novel Tender Graces will be out spring 2009.