I’m wearing so many writing hats at the moment, sometimes I forget which one I’m supposed to have perched on my head at any given time. I know some people expect me to always wear one particular hat, and some see all of my hats as awesome. Others don’t care about, or pay too much attention to my headgear. A small few get angry or irritated if I change hats unexpectedly. I don’t pay any attention to those people.
I am proud of all my writing hats. I hang them up where I can see them and enjoy them. I wear them all often, or at least whenever I get the chance. I refuse to separate them or apologise for any of them. They are my hats, and my hats are me. Some of them I’ve had with me since childhood. They need work and love to be fully rounded, but I don’t want them to lose their childlike dreams. Most of them are very new and unwieldy, and I’m still not sure if they fit me properly yet. This is my most comfortable hat; my blogging, being honest, authentic hat. Closely followed, at the moment, by my Horror Hat. But I know that I am likely to grow out of some of them, or they will simply cease to suit me, and that’s okay.
My first blogs were always journeys which never went anywhere. They set out strong, but looped back upon themselves. Story snakes which, in their confusion, devoured their own tails. Like sitting in a rocking chair, I put in so much effort, but I always stayed put. The first step is always the hardest, the first word the most difficult to find. In retrospect I know I learned a lot, and no time is ever wasted when you are the master of your own adventure. I also know that my goals are better mapped out now. I have written three non-fiction books. Been published numerous times. I no longer wear the hats I sported to complete those works, but I still keep them as mementos. The writer that I was. The person who grew.
Every time I put a writing hat upon my head I always take a moment to remind myself; the hat I wear today might not be the hat I wear tomorrow. What is comforting and complementary for me now, might change in a year’s time. Maybe even in a month. I am a writer. I write. And I wear many writer’s hats. You may have found me via one path, but I assure you, I will lead us both down many others before I’m done.