Today, at the age of 36 years, 1 month and 14 days, I can finally call myself a writer. Sure, I’ve had the odd article or editorial published before--and there is, of course, the hundreds of pages' worth of writing contained in this blog--but I’ve never been paid for any of my work. Financial recognition is part of my definition of claiming a particular profession.
This morning, the online company through which I’ve submitted several short essays on communication sent me a check, because people have actually been reading my work! The vast sum I earned? $3.10. Hey, it’s not a multi-million-dollar book deal. But it’s a start!