I consider that I’ve been a writer basically my whole life (at least, let’s say, since I could read and write – even though my grandmother traces my writing conviction back to age three). But it’s only been a few short years since I’ve admitted to anyone more than my closest circle of people that I am a writer.

These days, with a decent income landing in my bank account from writing, and the beginnings of some success as a fiction writer, I feel I have enough of the trappings to unashamedly admit to being a writer. But I just found a piece I wrote back in March 2001 which was quite different:

I’ve been a closet writer for a long time. Yes, I’d love to be a bestselling, world-famous novelist, but I wouldn’t dare tell anyone. I could never show anybody something I’d written. Would they laugh? Give me a non-committal “that’s nice”? I’m not sure what I expect.

It’s hard now for me to imagine that I was really terrified of even showing just one person something I’d written, but I guess I’m still pretty secretive about showing people parts of my novel, so it’s not so far-fetched. This 2001 piece went on to explain my first experiences with an online writing group:

Discovering creative writing groups on the web started it all. Suddenly, I began thinking, I can practise writing, I can get feedback, and these people will never really know who I am. The first time I submitted a piece of writing to an online writing group, I held my breath as I clicked the mouse to send my baby out to the world. For the next three hours I kept a constant watch on my computer screen for any feedback. Finally, some positive, useful responses arrived, and I was able to go to sleep that night.

Thank goodness for the internet. Being anonymous and often on the other side of the world to people who were reading my writing finally gave me the confidence to give it a go. I’m damn glad I did! If anyone who’s reading this is still at the stage of being too scared to show anybody their writing, then here’s a challenge: send it to me! I’m probably on the other side of the world from you and you won’t be able to see my face while I read it. And the chances are, I’ll like what you write.