For many years I fancied myself a writer, and put great effort into generating written things. I valiantly attempted (and failed) to produce multiple manuscripts of original text, and finally came to a sobering, yet freeing, realization: I am not a writer. I am an editor.
I have had a lifelong love affair with words. Though I constantly use verbal language in many ways, my brain does not think in words and sentences. It thinks in pictures and in actions. Words are but the vehicle by which thoughts are translated, and serve as little more than a tool to aid communication.
I will continue to write new words, and to study the craft of writing. For what use is an editor to a writer if said editor does not understand the business of writing? Perhaps, one day, I may even succeed in producing multiple manuscripts of original text. When that day arrives, I shall consider it a happy accident that occurred somewhere along the way while I was helping others polish and perfect the words they use to communicate the thoughts they think.
