Is there an expectation for authors to comply?
To conform to an industry full of closeted boxes.
Who feigns normality to preserve their purpose?
I am a writer.
I am extraordinary.
I have associates, but my only friend is my wife.
My cocker spaniel Buddy is my ardent muse.
I wake up early for a bit of me-time?
I write each day – it is my consummate joy.
I come across as distant and reticent?
I read the subtlest of body language.
I am found in social corners where I examine people and their behaviours.
I am idiosyncratic because I follow my gut.
I never know when it is my turn to talk on the telephone.
I influence and manoeuvre to realize my dreams.
I hate red tape and stupidity.
Will I be ostracised because I don’t fit in?
Labelled as unpublishable?
Writers are exceptions to the enforced model.
For normal does not exist.
We go all out for the perfection in our mind’s eye.
I am an extraordinary author and for that,
I make no apology.