So can you prove you ARE a writer

So can you prove you ARE a Writer? (c)

By Michael Casey

Well it’s nearly Midnight on 1st Feb 2020, and I want to write a bit before bedtime, and if I’m extra  tired I may sleep through my Tinnitus.  So what did I do today, I spoke to my man about hanging my curtains, then I realised old fashioned plastic tracking is in itself hard to track down. Everything is a Pole, but in the end I found what I wanted so I ordered that, then  my man can get up his ladder and install it. Then the neighbours won’t see me sat in the window at night working on my next 1,500,000 words.

So how can I prove I’m a Writer, for that’s what I tell folks I am. Well 1,500,000+ words and 2000 plus stories, now spread over 19 books, just go to Amazon and buy some. But you never do, but you do read my stuff for free here on WordPress and on Blogger. I’ve got through the 80 Countries barrier now, and up to TEN  Translations in one day of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker being read. My readers map is greater than the British Empire Map. So I tell  folks this via random emails in the vain hope that ZTE or anybody in the East will use my comic words to help teach English.

Ok, you’ve heard all that before. Do I have a Monet or was it a Mona Lisa on my wall? Do I have a fleet of fast cars? No I have a bus pass, and an old print in an old plastic bag my Yfronts came in. Do I have a fancy writing desk list Charles Dickens? Well I did think of splashing out on one, but in the end I have this white desk with black computer. As you’ve seen from my beautiful photos. Do I lean my chin on my head? Never that’s for Pretentious People, I just have my fat bum with a cushion underneath and me grinning like an idiot. I just hate all these posed people in poser land, so I go the opposite way, and what you see is what you get, as Derek Willins once remarked, in our outer office, the pub, maybe Easter 1998. Then then next year we the band of brothers were all scattered, I really was so lucky working with such a bunch, Barry, and Wooly and John G and JC, and many many more. I was the one locked up in the computer room in those days.

I did write a story called The Czech story the week after when I had returned from Czech, and it was then that everybody realised. Michael CAN WRITE, I wrote a page, then a page more, and sent it to Louise my friend on the 4th floor, and I was on 3rd, overlooking the Chinese quarter. Finally it was finished and it was passed around. People could read the pathos and comedy combined, and that was when I was confirmed as a Writer, but only to a select few in the office. So 10 years after I started, 20 years ago now, I was officially a Writer, in an unofficial way. None of them got to read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. But 7 years later Claire was more than happy to say I was a “lovely writer” as she read most of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker. She really was kind to me, she looked like a biker chic with  tats, she was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Though if she disagrees with the description, she might give me a slap, though I rather we had cake and tea at Druckers in town by the cathedral.

So do you have to have some form of praise before you can call yourself a writer? NO. though praise is nice. You have to be honest with yourself till you realise, I can really write, and you are not lying to yourself. I once managed to speak to a radio producer called Mary at the BBC. By using her Christian name I got connected. Her advice was read more, so I looked at books and noticed where the punctuation was. As for reading technical books, I did not bother. I just worked out where to put the punctuation. And carried on. In my opinion, basic punctuation is enough. People don’t need to get lost in the sentence or paragraph. What is the point? Keep the story rolling, and don’t hide it, and don’t make the paragraphs so long people get tired or confused.

So that’s what I do, I even have been complimented on my paragraphing. Tell the story and let it flow, let it blossom let it grow, and yes I’m listening to Eric Clapton from 1974, that’s why that sentence slipped. It’s like a joke, don’t kill the punchline do, like some idiots who interrupt me while I speak, I have a style, it’s deliberate, so don’t interrupt, it’s well practised. I did speak to 100,000 people over my 3 years front of house at CPNEC Birmingham, a 4 star deluxe business hotel. So I do know what I’m doing. MIAOW

So its 00.22 on 020220 now so I’ll marry my words to the page and try not  to sneeze, a Historical reference for all you diggers of words. So am I a Writer, yes I am, though I’ll probably never make any money from it. And If I do the plan is to give most away to  PAIN relief, with that I’ll go to bed. Just pray for Health, the only thing worth having.