“Isn’t writing a waste of time? Who will read me, the rambling of an aspiring writer? Why should I write at all?” Frustrated, the writer girl asked.

“Write, so that you survive.” Replied the woman writer sitting beside her. “I did it for all my lifetime. I wrote, and that’s why I survived till my last day on earth.”

“Oh really? Aren’t you still surviving as a ghost?” Annoyed, the girl asked her.

“Sorry child, but you may need a little correction.”  Giving her a mischievous smile, she said, “A writer is a writer is a writer.” In a wise tone, she continued, “No matter whether they are dead or alive. Not a ghost, not a spirit. We’re not born to entertain you at your Halloween party. We’re born to write. So, it’s better if you call me a writer. No prefix, no suffix, only… Writer.”