What does it take to be a writer? Here are some traits that can help.

This is the seventh installment in a series that began as just a few random thoughts that I had to publish somewhere. When you gotta write, you gotta write.

If you have what it takes to be a writer, you’ll probably want to read the previous editions, so here they are:

Read here the first 54 ominous signs that you might be a writer.

Read here the second 52 signs that you might be a writer.

Read here the third 51 signs that you might be a writer.

Read here the fourth 52 signs that you might be a writer.

Read here the fifth 56 signs that you might be a writer.

Read here the sixth 54 signs that you might be a writer.

Now, without further ado, here are…

The 51 traits you need most to be a writer

If you wear a T-shirt that reads, “I’m a writer”, you might be a writer.

If you have reading glasses in every room, you might be a writer.

If you spend more time choosing words than choosing clothes, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever added footnotes or a bibliography to a love letter, you might be a writer.

If your bucket list includes “Travel to Oxford to see the famous comma”, you might be a writer.

If your favorite part of a nature trail is reading the interpretive panels, you might be a writer.

If insanity runs in your family…and you know just the words to explain it, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever fought for a book’s honor, you might be a writer.

If there is a pen hanging from your Christmas tree, you might be a writer.

If your favorite charity is the World Literacy Foundation, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever prayed for a longer alphabet, you might be a writer.

If you taught your dog to fetch a pen instead of slippers, you might be a writer.

If you turn off the Oscars after “Best Original Screenplay”, you might be a writer.

If you can almost instantly name all six words formed from the letters y-e-l-l-o-w, you might be a writer.

If the first thing you throw in a lifeboat is a book, you might be a writer.

If the side of a white panel van looks to you like an invitation, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever turned on subtitles just for fun, you might be a writer.

If your pens always run out of ink surprisingly fast, you might be a writer.

If you love skyscrapers because they have more stories, you might be a writer.

If you walk around with a notebook in your pocket, you might be a writer.

If you have a tattoo with more than 312 words in it, you might be a writer.

If people lower their voices to a whisper when you walk in the room, you might be a writer.

If you can name more than seven significant dates in Shakespeare’s life without looking at your notes, you might be a writer.

If your library card wears out before the expiry date, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever picked Hemingway or Orwell in a fantasy football draft, you might be a writer.

If you have more paper in your house than plastic, you might be a writer.

If the Oxford comma ever inspired you to promote the Princeton period, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever gotten a speeding ticket for writing too fast, you might be a writer.

If hand cramps are a frequent ailment, you might be a writer.

If you see mirrors as visual autobiographies, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever used a chest as a coffee table, because that would be a table of contents, you might be a writer.

If you really do read Playboy for the articles, you might be a writer.

If you are always looking for Mr. Write, you might be a writer.

If you are Mr. Write, you might be a writer.

If you measure your success by the number of bylines you score, you might be a writer.

If you have a prize collection of rejection letters, you might be a writer.

If you don’t see initials carved into a tree as a blemish on nature, you might be a writer.

If every trip doubles as a research expedition, you might be a writer.

If your favorite jacket is a dust jacket, you might be a writer.

If you can’t resist leaving a message in very dirty car windows, you might be a writer.

If you tell pollsters that the most pressing issue facing society today is writer’s block, you might be a writer.

If you’ve ever been to a storytelling conference, you might be a writer.

If your trash can fills up quickly with crumpled paper, you might be a writer.

If you’ve already worn the letters off your six-month-old keyboard, you might be a writer.

If you hate speaking on the phone because you can’t see the words, you might be a writer.

If you think that reading heals all wounds, you might be a writer.

If you’ve thought up an alternative ending for the last movie you saw, you might be a writer.

If you’ll work for peanuts as long as the story is good, you might be a writer.

If you’ve cast every stranger you passed today in your new manuscript, you might be a writer.

If you prefer a head massage to a back massage, you might be a writer.

If you are proud as a peacock of you bookmark collection, you might be a writer.

If you have any or all of these traits, you might be a writer without even knowing it. Now, put on your dust jacket and make your way to the nearest storytelling conference.