I got a fat envelope from my agent on Saturday. It held the signed and executed (that sounds ominous) contract and the first part of my advance for 'BoF' from Roli Books. I know it was official before but this little check (I can have a couple of nice meals) makes my novel and my life as a writer so very real.
I can touch it. Between my fingers the paper of the check is smooth and I think my fingertips can make out the writing on it. Someone has paid me for own writing. Not a commissioned piece, not something for work...this check is for my own creativity, my linked ideas that I wrote down to make a book.
Now I can say it. Really say it, without hearing the mocking voice at the back of my head. "I am *ahem* a novelist...a writer you know."