Writing: Real job or Imaginary?

Saying you always wanted to be a writer seems like it’s synonomous with actually being a writer.  I can probably count on one hand how many people I know who are writers who kinda fell into it, instead of it being a passion from an early age.

For me, I honestly don’t know when I had that magical that’s-what-I want-to-be-when-I grow-up moment, but it was pretty young.  I always enjoyed the times in school where we were allowed to make up stories and write them down.  I even think my parents still have the books, plays, and poems. But it wasn’t until sixth grade, when my teacher loved a story I’d written for an assignment so much that she entered it into a contest and it won that I even thought about it being a profession.

I’ll always remember this teacher, unfortunately I can’t remember her name, because not only did she take the time to send that short story off to that contest, but then she took time after school to help me write better.  She encouraged me in a way no teacher—or person--had before or since. 

She even helped me write a letter to Jonathan Brandis asking if he’d let me do an autogiography on him!  Of course, I never got a reply back, but the fact that as silly as that was, she didn’t laugh and researched on her own time, what to write and who to contact to see if some silly little starry eyed redheaded 6^th grader could become his biographer is something I’ll never forget and I’ll always be grateful for.

But my parents were insistent that I focused on getting a “real” job. That is was okay to write as a hobby, but being a writer wasn’t something you did for a job.   And so, that’s what I did. I changed my choice of “real” jobs several hundred times (I wanted to be a teacher, a doctor, a marine biologist, etc.   I think I even wanted to be a cowboy astronaut ballerina at some point in there.  LOL.  Sadly there is no call for cowboy astronaut ballerinas.), but while I secretly dreamed of being a writer, I was a good girl and focused my studies on becoming a marine biologist.

I never did become a marine biologist and ended u doing a handful of different jobs, but I never felt like it was the “right one.”  It wasn’t until a little over two years ago—when I was worried to death over my youngest’s illness--that I realized life was too short for could’ve, should’ve would’ves and regrets.  So, I spent every free minute writing (which wasn’t much considering I have a special needs kid—she has Systemic JRA)  and I found what had been missing.  Writing felt right, like no other “real job” had.

And I’ve decided that if it isn’t a “real job” than I don’t want a real one.  Imaginary works just fine for me, especially since I write fiction.  :P

 

 

 

J.A. Souders is the author of RENEGADE a YA dystopian that takes place in an underwater utopian society, coming Fall 2012 from Tor Teen.  For more information visit her blog or website.

She also secretly regrets never pursuing a degree in cowboy astronaut ballerina-ing. 

Will you grow up to be a writer?

I knew I wanted to be a writer from at least fifth or sixth grade on, but sometimes it seemed inevitable that I should take that path. My parents had two daughters. They named my older sister Charlotte and then unwittingly (they claim) proceeded to dub me Emily. 

Do you know what people of a certain age say when they meet two sweet little girls named Charlotte and Emily? Every single time, they ask: "Are you going to grow up to be writers?" 

I didn't get the joke for the longest time, and it was even more confusing when I explained our name-pairing was an accident, so finally I learned to simply smile and give a shy, "Maybe." Then one day I discovered an old elegant hardbound set on my parents' bookshelf of JANE EYRE and WUTHERING HEIGHTS by these two girls, Charlotte and Emily Bronte. I ran to my parents like, "Did you know these two girls with OUR names wrote some books?" I think the reaction I got was similar to the day I asked my dad if he'd heard of a band called The Beatles. 

I was probably around nine years old when this went down. I sat and tried to read JANE EYRE, probably because the pictures on the cover were of little school girls and not some gross kissy-face couple under a tree. I distinctly remember that all the school girls had their eyes closed, but ONE girl's eyes were open. This haunted me for years, and I never did read past the time Jane suffered at Lowood School. 

Years later, in college, I read WUTHERING HEIGHTS in an English Lit class. Thankfully, I had a professor with a deep understanding of this book, and it came alive for me. I finally finished reading JANE EYRE soon afterward and loved it even more. Sibling rivalry still boiled in my blood though, and I was annoyed that EMILY hadn't written the book I loved more. Why did Charlotte have to write it? 

My sister and I eventually learned to like each other (for the most part). But I doubt I actually became a writer because of my parents' choice in names (if I had been a boy, I was going to be Ross...yeah). But you know, if you want a kid to consider writing, it doesn't hurt to have people asking at every turn, "Are you going to grow up to be writers?" 

I'm still trying to get Charlotte to give it a go. ;) 

Emily Hainsworth is the author of THROUGH TO YOU, (Fall 2012 Balzer+Bray / HarperCollins), a sci-fi novel about a seventeen-year-old boy grieving for his dead girlfriend until he discovers she's still alive in a parallel reality--one where he's the one who died. For more information, visit her website.