Every day I think about what I want to do with my life. I am in college, you know. The girl beside me in Room A321 wants to be a journalist. I remember when I wanted to be a journalist, but that dream faded away as quickly as all other "real" professions do in my mind. Pediatrician? Like I'd survive med-school science courses. A social worker? I'm too emotional. Counsellor? I have my own problems thanks. Do you really think I want to hear about yours?Every day I think about what I want to do with my life, and every day I realize that my dreams are as far from reach as every childhood fantastical vision that I play over and over in my mind at night. Popstar - Broadway actress - Pianst - Ballerina.
I want to be a writer.
Every day, when I think about what I want to do with my life, I have just finished an amazing short story, and as I close the book with a sigh I close my eyes and envision the novel I will have published one day, my collection of short stories that will win the Hemingway Award, and my collection of journals that girls will read and, just as I did with Sylvia, they will think, One day I am going to write just like her, and one day I will be famous.
I am grateful that my life has provided me with a sufficient amount of grief and unsatisfaction so far, because as a writer it has broadened my horizons significantly. I can only hope for more pain and pity. It would help a great deal to be an ethnic minority, of course, or to have experienced my childhood in the bayous of Louisiana or South Carolina, but I suppose I must play the cards I've been dealt.
Suburban blonde girl with rich grandparents...could I please be more ideal?
I want to be a writer, but I don't know how to be. It's not that I don't think I have the potential to be successful, it's that I don't know how to unleash that potential.
<< || >>
