There. I said it.  Now you know. Along with the Internal Revenue Service, my foot doctor and my daughter's second grade teacher.

 

I don't know why I'm so reluctant to proclaim my profession. I've had worse jobs. For two years I was a telephone interviewer for a marketing research firm  (Hello, this is Judy calling from Burke Marketing Research. May I speak to the lady of the house?). Yes, I was one of those annoying people who called you at supper time. I also have been a Walmart Associate, a McDonald's crew member (ya-want-fries-with-that?) and that most oppressed of all human beings, the substitute teacher. And I wasn't ashamed to admit to any of those jobs.

 

Okay, maybe I was a bit embarrassed about the marketing research gig, but that was twenty years ago.

 

Writing is such a personal thing. And it takes a certain amount of intestinal fortitude to believe that someone is going to want to pay money for the words you've strung together.

 

I wouldn't quit my day job if I had one. But I've decided if the federal government recognizes me as a writer, everyone else should too.

 

Hi, this is Judy. I'm a writer. And I know you don't want fries with that.