Calling yourself a writer to the middle class can be like coming out of the closet to rednecks.

In 2005 I finished a science degree; this set me up for boring jobs. I was a logical thicker once. At least the job options paid.  

I searched for years, or procrastinated, if you like, for a course that might sharpen my skills for an interesting job. Part of studying science is that you learn analytical thinking and a stack of other stuff, which you’ll be lucky to find anybody to appreciate. 

I took up writing in 2009. Then, I never referred to myself as a writer. I still don’t. Everybody can be a “writer”. 

I found a course, short story writing, which was a module contributing to the postgraduate diploma in professional writing at the university of deakin (Australian). One thing led to another, I finished nine writing modules – the postgraduate diploma in professional writing requires eight. I’m frying an extra project, the thesis, to finish my Master of Arts (Writing & Literature).

What…