An interesting little...possibility.

My journalist friend tells me I should try to get "The Red Wagon" published. As always, this raises the instantaneous dismissal, "Oh, please. I'm not a writer." Patently false. Of course, I am. But so is anyone else who puts words to paper (or electrons, if you will).

What I think I mean is that I've never felt like Those Who Count, whoever they are, would regard me as a legitimate writer. I said this to my friend, who then asked, "What would make you feel like a legitimate writer?"

"Uh...seeing the movie version of my book?"

He snorted. Well, okay, what he actually said was, "Heh." Same thing. I deserved it. I was being flippant.

In fact, he told me I should get almost all my writing published. (I have a previous online journal of more than three years' writing to which he was referring.)

"Uh, but I only write journal-type stuff. Family stories. Things like that."
"Yeah, and...?"
"Well, that doesn't really fit any genre, does it?"
"You're kidding me, right?"
"I am?"
"You haven't read memoirs? That's a very lucrative market, by the way."
"Oh! Memoirs! Sure. But those are about famous people."
"Oh, really? Had you ever heard of Frank McCourt?"
"Er, no. Not until Angela's Ashes."

Okay, he had a point. We talked about this a little bit more, then want on to discuss other things, but it's been in my head ever since.

Hmm.