“What makes a writer?” the boy asked.
I grinned. “That’s easy! A silver pen and an expensive notebook. A silly hat too. All good writers got one of those.”
“Anything else?”
“An antique desk and a big chair don’t hurt.”
He wilted. “What if the writer is poor?”
“I guess he could write every day. But then how would anyone know he was a writer?”
The boy thought. His brows hooded the world. “He could tell people to read his stuff. Then they’d know.”
“Risky, but that just might work.”
He grinned back. Looking down, I saw pages in his hands.
Yeah, Matt. You really nailed the essence of a “real” writer. I equate to this fully.
Love!
This is fantastic!
…I need a silly hat.
Fedoras are very last year. Go for one of those Russian ones with the flappy bits on the sides.
Cute story. I like the sentence where he said the writer could tell people about his work. Nice touch.
It’s all good, but the best part is the silly hat. That is essential.
One will never go far in life without one.
Loved this – made me smile and feel nice all over!
That’s what I aim for. Thanks!
great piece matt!
Beautiful, silly hat and all, it still begin with what is transferred through our hands!