Writer

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Writer

The seller of an option, usually an individual, bank, or company that issues the option and consequently has the obligation to sell the asset (if a call) or to buy the asset (if a put) on which the option is written if the option buyer exercises the option.

Option Writer

One who originally sells an option contract. In exchange for the premium, the option writer takes on an obligation to buy or sell (depending on the type of option) the underlying asset at the discretion of the option holder. For example, in a call, the option writer must sell the underlying asset to the option holder if the holder decides to exercise the option. If the option writer does not already have a long position in the underlying asset, he/she must obtain one so as to sell the position and fulfill the contract.

writer

The person who creates an option by selling an option contract in an opening transaction. An investor may be the writer of a call or a put. See also naked writer.

Writer.

In the options market, a writer is someone who sells put or call options, an activity known as writing a call or writing a put.

Unlike the buyer, or holder, of an option, who can exercise an option or let it expire, as the writer you must meet the terms of the contract if the option is exercised and assigned to you.

You collect a premium for selling the option, which may provide a profit if the option expires worthless, and you always have the right, before exercise, to buy an offsetting contract and end your obligation to buy or sell.

References in classic literature ?
I had ceased to be a writer of tolerably poor tales and essays, and had become a tolerably good Surveyor of the Customs.
Indeed, if a man be a writer of short stories or anything else that is interesting, he can sometimes pocket five hundred roubles, or a thousand, at a time
Weitbrecht-Rotholz belongs to that school of historians which believes that human nature is not only about as bad as it can be, but a great deal worse; and certainly the reader is safer of entertainment in their hands than in those of the writers who take a malicious pleasure in representing the great figures of romance as patterns of the domestic virtues.
The historians of culture are quite consistent in regard to their progenitors, the writers of universal histories, for if historical events may be explained by the fact that certain persons treated one another in such and such ways, why not explain them by the fact that such and such people wrote such and such books?
It is monstrous that for no offence but the wish to produce something beautiful, and the mistake of his powers in that direction, a writer should become the prey of some ferocious wit, and that his tormentor should achieve credit by his lightness and ease in rending his prey; it is shocking to think how alluring and depraving the fact is to the young reader emulous of such credit, and eager to achieve it.
Dealing with the beginnings of imagination in the minds of children, they record, with the reality which a very delicate touch preserves from anything lugubrious, not those merely preventible miseries of childhood over which some writers have been apt to gloat, but the contact of childhood with the great and inevitable sorrows of life, into which children can enter with depth, with dignity, and sometimes with a kind of simple, pathetic greatness, to the discipline of the heart.
Why, on the outside cover were printed every month the words of one of the world's great writers, words proclaiming the inspired mission of the TRANSCONTINENTAL by a star of literature whose first coruscations had appeared inside those self-same covers.
In three years, from a sailor with a common school education, I made a successful writer of him.
Walter Map, like so many of the writers of this early time, was a priest.
The literary spirit was all-pervasive, and the authors were men (not yet women) of almost every class, from distinguished courtiers, like Ralegh and Sidney, to the company of hack writers, who starved in garrets and hung about the outskirts of the bustling taverns.
There may be some use in such general descriptions, but they can hardly be said to express the design of the writer.
The writer, indeed, seems to think himself obliged to keep even pace with time, whose amanuensis he is; and, like his master, travels as slowly through centuries of monkish dulness, when the world seems to have been asleep, as through that bright and busy age so nobly distinguished by the excellent Latin poet--