Well, sort of.  Here’s what happened.

I went to an awesome writing camp, Wordsworth (at Camp Kiwanis in Bragg Creek) and wrote some poetry, among other things which aren’t worth mentioning because… they sucked.  (Side-note- I actually didn’t pay anything to get into this camp; I came in runner-up in this years Martyn Godfrey Young Writers Award for “Xanthophobia”, my humourous short story, which was supposed to be published somewhere, on the web and in a magazine.  I haven’t found either.  But they did let me in the camp for free, which was pretty sweet seems as it costs, like, five hundred dollars.) 

Anywho, at the end of camp, we were asked to put some of our work into a box.  I’m going, “Meh, sure, whatever you say camp director lady.”  So, I put some poetry in.  Then, I hear that they’re compiling a book from it to be sold from stores.  Honestly, that didn’t really register to me until I was mailed a book, a real book with a cover and binding and everything, which had my poems in it!  That was an incredible feeling, for me anyway.  People were actually going to read my work in an actual book.  Sure, there were only my three super short poems amongst the whole thing, which was quite thin in the first place, but still.  Of course, this got me thinking, “What loser sits around reading amateur poetry some kids wrote in camp?”  I suspect the book won’t be very popular, which wasn’t as disappointing as it sounds, mainly because I wasn’t getting any money from this anyway.  But at least I was getting my name out there, and years from now, when I’m Steven King, J.K. Rowling, and James Patterson all rolled into one, people will look back and say, “Look!  Her first publication!  How… cute.”

Now, though, I have an important decision to make about the way I view myself.  I’ve always defined the difference between a writer and an author as an author has been published and a writer may not have been.  Am I an author now?

I’m thinking no.  My intuition tells me that would be a rather premature decision.  As I said, I’m not getting paid for this AT ALL and so, I don’t really feel like an author.

So, I’ve decided to change my definition of author and writer.  A writer is one who writes as a hobby and an author is one who writes as a career.  These definitions make more sense, and are probably shared by more people.

(Although, technically, I am an author simply because I have written works, and that makes me their author.  This would mean that every person who’s ever attended school is an author.  Hardly.”

5 thoughts on “I’mpublishedI’mpublishedI’mPublished!

  1. Mango says:

    Congrats on getting into the camp! GOOD LUCK!! 0.<

  2. Joanne Brown says:

    Hi Laura! Just reread your “Xanthophopbia” and your “Princesses on Strike.” (I also gave copies to an alumni of our school who is taking an English degree :o) You are obviously a very skilled writer–I especially am impressed with how you use humour so effectively! There were a number of places I chuckled out loud or just really liked the humour (I put happy faces on your script where his happened) b but one I particulary liked was Mulan’s line: Let’s just say that I found out he liked me better when I looked like a man> The the venting princesses are silent while this comment sinks in. Someone coughs awkwardly. Awesome! I am proud of you, and it is an honour to know you! Looking forward to reading more of your work!!!!!

  3. Joanne Brown says:

    Sorry to your English skills: correction needed: Alumnus 🙂 … and for the other typing errors…my personal information covered my reply box while I was typing my comment, and I could not proof what I was writing. Is there a way to make it disappear? Thanks Laura!

  4. Joanne Brown says:

    You are most gracious!

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