I spent much of my childhood laying in bed, scratching unfinished stories into notepads. I’d read them to my parents. They’d listen and smile.
People would ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
I’d hold my pencil to my chest and say, “A writer.”
But then I got older. And I read a short story written by one of my high school classmates. It was good. Really really good. It was the first time I remember thinking, “I can’t do that. I can’t write like her.”
People would ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
I’d hide my pencil behind my back and say, “I’m not sure.”
I graduated and went to college. A place where being a published author was a cute kid’s dream, but not realistic as an adult.
I’d stare at the pencil on my desk and say, “Maybe a teacher.”
Then I went to Africa and words piled high in my chest. A great flood of words. A story that needed telling. So I picked up the pencil and let them spill onto the page. And afterward, I felt good. I felt like that little girl laying in her bed. A little girl with stories to find.
People would ask, “What will you do when you graduate?”
I’d blink at the pencil in my hand and say, “Oh. Right. I’m going to teach.”
But the stories wouldn’t leave. I had to get them out. So I did. I wrote them. I wrote them and wrote them and wrote them. When I told people what I was doing, I’d occasionally run into a curious look.
That’s….nice, their looks would say.
Those looks reminded me of that girl’s short story in high school. The one I wasn’t talented enough to write.
But the stories still came. Despite my fears. Despite my doubts. They came. And somewhere in the middle of all that writing, I stopped caring that I wasn’t the best. That this might not be realistic or practical. The joy of putting words on paper drowned all that other stuff out.
So now, when people ask, “What do you do now that you’re all grown up?”
I clutch my pencil to my chest and say, “I write.”
Let’s Talk: What stops you from chasing your dreams? What do you want to be when you grow up?
Knowing what we want to do with our lives sometimes takes a lifetime to discover. I'm glad that wasn't the case for you.
Great story, Katie.
I've always wanted to write and I remember planning my "career." When I had children, I'd send them to school and write until they got home! HA!! That doesn't work while homeschooling.
Nothing's keeping me from the pursuit, but the amount of time I get to pursue is what's in question!
Excited to see how you figure out this next stage of your writing life! Hoping I can learn a thing or two!
Hi Katie –
I love this!
Ever since I could read, I've devoured books. Throughout the years, I'd write a story here, a skit there. It never dawned on me until many years later that this was what I was supposed to do.
Now, I know, and I'm glad…well most of the time. LOL!
Blessings,
Susan 🙂
Comparison is a tough one! Like your experience in high school, I too have compared myself to others and questioned whether I have what it takes to do (insert a variety of things here). But I am learning as I get older that I am here for a purpose and I need to live out that purpose free from comparison to others. Let them do their thing and I'll do mine! 🙂
I hear this same story from so many writers. I experienced the same sort of journey. Now most people take my writing seriously, but still, some think that if you aren't a published novelist, you aren't a real writer. It doesn't matter anymore. I write because I write. It brings joy to me and others I hope.
Thanks for a great post.
Jan
http://www.jancline.net
I echo Laura. Reading was my passion, and still is. It fuels me to the page, and makes me smile to hope that I can bring someone that much joy.
The same joy that seeped past the page into my adolescent life and my adult chaos:)
I want to write.
Thanks so much for the comments! I always enjoy reading them.
Why is it so hard to say? "I'm a writer." Maybe because there is so much vulnerability in that statement.
I've learned that as hard as it is to get out, there's so much freedom in saying it.
I love the vulnerability and confidence in this post. I'm so thrilled with the direction God is leading you.
I've wanted to write since I was 16. It's been my heart's desire since that moment when I clutched The Promise by Danielle Steel to my chest and decided I wanted to create that same heart sigh for others.
I can definitely relate to your story except that I never stopped saying "I'm going to be a writer." And at times I paid for it with people telling me I needed to grow up/needed to make better decisions/needed to get a real job.
I'm a full-time freelancer now, and I still sometimes get those looks, but more often I get people telling me how much something I wrote helped them.
People won't always understand our need to write, but what we do is valuable. The world needs writers.
This is so touching, Katie. Something I think many of us can relate to.
It is almost my life (except the Africa part!) For this year, I am still a teacher. Maybe next year, it will be different.
I'm so happy you're living your dream, Katie. Write on, my friend.
That sounds totally familiar. I told my dad I wanted to be a writer when I grew up and he said, "Okay now what do you really want to be."
It's taken me a while to come full circle again.
You gave me goosebumps, Katie! I'm like Wendy, I want to be (and learn about) so many different things that I'll never be able to squeeze it all in…I can try though. 🙂
I can so relate! I also agree with Jessica. I don't want to grow up. 🙂 Have a great weekend.
This gave me cold chills! I think that about sums up exactly what I did growing up. Sometimes I still hide the pencil behind my back when I feel intimidated, but for the most part I am standing tall and proud for what I love to do…even if now it can only be described as a hobby to onlookers:)
I'm sure you captured the experience of so many writers! I was telling stories from the time I was four and playing with flannelgraph pieces. Of all things, college knocked stories out of me for a while. They came back, but not with confidence to call myself a writer. I was 35 before I could actually say "I am a writer" and believe it.
Love this!!! Love the pencil; I want one. 🙂
This is so adorable!
Hope you're having a great day!
I've always felt out of place because I am the one who wouldn't give up on my dreams. It's made me poverty stricken and even caused family members to remind me that I should get a "real" job and still write "on the side". But that's not in the cards for me; it never has been. I'm writing freelance full time and working on a manuscript at the same time! Take that, typical! 🙂
I used to tell people that I want to be a wife, a mom and a writer. Now I'm a wife and mom, but I'm still afraid to call myself a writer…
I've called myself a newspaper reporter, columnist and blogger, but saying "I'm a writer" takes a lot of confidence that I don't have. I'm working on it :). And I'm glad I'm not the only one!
Actually, I was planning on not growing up, if that's okay? *grin*
Oh, Katie. I love how you use your pencil's journey to display the changing attitudes of your heart. I love that you finally feel comfortable enough with your gift to allow yourself to be who God made you–a writer. Thanks for this freeing post!
A writer and if I knew a lick of math, I think I'd make a great vet.
In reality I want to be hundreds of things. That's part of why I write…so I can be a little of all of those things.
~ Wendy
I love this so much. Right now my dream is to travel the world (with a purpose–missions of some kind) with my family. And fund it with $ from my writing. Jumping off the high dive next week and releasing my first e-book. Wheeeeeeee!!!
Thanks for sharing this! I'm so glad to know that I'm not the only one. I now get the question: "Are you going to go back to teaching once all the boys are in school?"
I really don't want to. I want to write. I'm starting to care less about the looks. It's a work in progress.
Thanks, Katie. This is a post I so much needed to read this morning, and you shared your heart and your journey SO BEAUTIFULLY! (It felt like a big hug.)
I'm like Laura, I didn't always want to write, but it's becoming easier and easier to tell people, now, that I'm writing. Though, realizing THE DREAM often seems far, far away.
I was not one of the ones who always wanted to be a writer. I just loved to read.