A week or so ago I was at my local station on the way into work when I fell into conversation with a gentleman who works as an editor. As a writer this was a perfect opportunity for me to discuss writing and perhaps (naughty me) even obtain some free advice! What did I do? I listened politely to my companion’s description of his work but not one hint of the fact that I am a writer did I give!
I am by nature shy and relatively reserved. I find it easy to promote my writing using this blog and other social media tools such as Twitter. Sitting here at my laptop my face retains it’s natural colour when I say “I am a writer”, however face to face with a stranger I blush with embarrassment and am at times almost apologetic when stating this fact. I guess that I am typically British in that I’m deeply imbued with the belief that it isn’t the done thing to blow one’s own trumpet. Of course as an author I need to promote myself, but this doesn’t prevent me from feeling embarrassed when telling an acquaintance that I write. Maybe I’ll get business cards produced saying “Kevin Morris writer” with my blog address printed on them and press the cards into the hands of random strangers irrespective of whether they wish to receive them or not. Then again maybe I will continue to blush when informing people that I write while remaining hidden behind this computer screen!