the want

January 06, 2016


I think the first time I said I wanted to be a writer was in the first grade. I probably called it an author at the point, before I knew the innumerable ways writing manifests itself in the world.  That’s what I decided that day.

I Want to Be An Author.

I told my teacher right then and there, too. He gave us a celebratory second recess as a welcoming to the first grade, and every other normal  first grader was instantly animated, working together to construct the lines we had perfected to a tee in kindergarten. Except little Mary. And, as a response to the teacher’s befuddlement at the lack of excitement to why any child would willingly turn down a free recess the little girl donning the long brains said “Can I stay inside and read this? I’m going to be an author”. This earned her a kind chuckle to the enigma that was this first grade girl. She likes to read?? And a bit of showing off to the other teachers along the same lines.

She likes?? to read??

But, she, over time, was pushed along, and nudged into more and more books and attempts at writing on her own by her mentors until she was a bigger girl. A young woman really, who still loves to read, still loves to write, and still like to be just a tad different than her expectations, and she will write in the form of a blog, or novels, articles, anything.


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