I cannot give an accurate answer to that question. I am not a writer; I am just a person putting thoughts on paper, mostly disconnected thoughts that end abruptly midsentence. I blankly stare at a screen that emits ultraviolet rays struggling to find that next word that will make my idea worthwhile to a reader that does not exist. I have tiny notebooks filled with barely legible words collecting dust next to a vintage Royal typewriter I own that will never see the light of day. My inbox is filled with rejections from numerous small publications.
Being a writer is defeating. It makes you question every paragraph, sentence, word. It forces you to critique your own work to the point where it deserves to be crumpled up and thrown in the trash. Your self-worth comes into question, you enter your own head. Self-actualization becomes apparent, and not in a positive light.
A writer becomes his own worst enemy. Thankfully I am not a writer. I am merely someone who scribbles words on paper.—Matthew McGroarty