The Writer

“I understand you consider yourself a writer.”
“Yes.”
“What do you write?”
“Poetry. Lyrics, sort of. Short stories. I’m writing a screenplay.” He realized how amateurish he sounded. Not necessarily phony, but not very committed. Not quite engulfed enough.
“What have you published?”
“Nothing.” Then, as an afterthought, “Yet.”
“Why not?”
“Good question,” he admitted.
“Perhaps the question, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”

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