Since the dawn of time, the art of writing, be it prose or poetry; fiction or fact, has been considered a noble craft. Whether informing, commenting or entertaining, scribes have toiled with words and grammar; from scratching their inky quills across sheets of parchment, to tip-tapping on trendy MacBooks in Costa Coffee. Centuries of aspiring authors have placed their hearts in others hands, from Shakespeare to Salinger, Dickens to Dahl and King to Cartland; the author’s vocation exposes his very soul, risking persecution, loneliness and disappointment.

Cut to the modern day, in a world where reality television tells us that everyone can be a Pop Idol, and where celebrity is de rigeur, the role of the writer now promises a tantalising shot at fortune and fame for anybody with a basic grasp of language. Blogging, micro-blogging and self-publishing allow the legions to enter a world which was once reserved for those with actual talent. People who drove their English teachers to despair; who over use the exclamation mark, write solely in capitals, or in some strange pidgin dialect consisting of acronyms and text-speak – these are the people pursuing a full time career in writing. Websites such as Triond.com encourage them with pay-per-click rewards, whilst lulu.com offers the chance to have your name in print without the need for an agent or publisher.

In this new world order, it is hard to remember that there are still those who aspire to the fine traditions of the scribe; those who punctuate, alliterate (or are literate!) and offer original and challenging ideas. It is a difficult time to be a serious writer, when every man, and indeed his dog, has a blog about his favourite type of biscuit or snack. To say that you are a writer has little credibility when everybody else is telling you the same, and makes an already difficult career choice that little bit harder.

You won’t always see a real writer until his name is in print; he will be the one locked in a cellar, agonising over every word, and shouting up for a cup of tea every couple of hours. He will get by on beans on toast until the first pay cheque arrives; he will become depressed at every rejection but ecstatic over publication. He will spend his days with his characters, not on forums or in chat rooms, alone save for his fictional friends – and he will never, ever, attempt to publish a quickly concocted ‘Ten things…’ list. So spare a thought for that colleague, friend or relative, hidden away with just a typewriter for company – support that lover or partner who spends more time typing than ‘working’ - and avoid sending them into an apoplectic fit with one of the following phrases…or else you just might find that the pen truly is mightier than the sword:

1. Very nice. What’s your real job?
2. Is English your first language?
3. Have you ever thought about writing children’s books?
4. I’ve underlined all the bits I would change and altered the name of your main character.
5. Do you think people pay for stuff like this?
6. Writing. That’s great. I used to write poetry when I was at school.
7. Oh yes, I’ve read one just like that before.
8. I hope that didn’t take you long.
9. So where’s the rest of it?
10. I don’t get it.

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