A Growing Up Story

Once upon a time, there was a girl who just knew that she wanted to be a Sports Reporter when she grew up. She was on her high school yearbook and newspaper staffs, and even had a subscription to Sports Illustrated. Then she got to college. She decided, fairly early on, that what she really wanted to be was Music and Art Critic. She took numerous music, art, theater and dance classes and worked for the campus newspaper. But never on the lifestyle desk. After a while, she decided what she really wanted to be was a Newspaper Photographer. But while that was a lot of fun, it was a short-lived dream.

After graduation, she decided that she’d had enough of Journalism (this decision was spurred on by her husband getting an arts reviewing job for the local paper), and thought she’d try Graduate School. She even took the GRE. And didn’t do so well. So much for that decision.

They move to Washington, DC, and the girl decided that she liked Writing, but since she wasn’t good at it, maybe she could be an Editor. But the competition was tough. Really tough. She didn’t get any of the jobs she applied for. She bailed and took a job at a little company which allowed her to read most of the time (while she waited for there to be work for her to do). A Reviewer was born (though she didn’t know it yet). Because she read so much, she started keeping track of all the books, writing little reviews of them.

She left the cushy job after three years, and became a Nanny. She realized very quickly that while she loved and enjoyed her children, taking care of other people’s kids was a headache and a chore.

She moved from Washington, DC (sigh), and spent the next five years in small towns in the South and Midwest. She helped out in her daughter’s kindergarten class, and thought being a Pre-School Teacher might be fun. But, after thinking about it some, realized it wasn’t that much fun. She thought she might be a Children’s Book Writer, and even took a class, but discovered that while they said she had talent, without the class she had no drive (or creativity) to write stories. She moved again — this time to a bigger city in Kansas — and thought she might want to be a Cake Decorator or Baker. Then she discovered that she liked eating the cake and frosting too much. Working around food is not a healthy option.

Then Heather posted that the editors of Estella’s Revenge were retooling the webzine to be a book publication. And they were looking for contributors. Ah, the girl (woman, now, I guess) thought, this is what I want to do. I want to read books and write about them. But wait, her husband said. That’s what you’re already doing! And she realized he was right. She’d been a book reviewer for over two years now, gathering a small but fairly faithful audience. And it’s been fun. So, she took a leap and branched out, sending in a contribution to the March issue of Estella’s Revenge. And while it’s not a brilliant piece of work, it’s a start. She’s even got an author interview lined up for (hopefully) the April issue.

So, I guess this story has a happy ending. She found out what she wants to do when she grew up, and is actually doing it. I like stories with happy endings, don’t you?


9 thoughts on “A Growing Up Story

  1. We have sooo much in common. Right down to the cake decorating. 🙂Love your review, and I can’t wait to see your review and interview for (hopefully) the April issue!


  2. Andi — that’s too weird. Except you’re getting a grad degree and I’m not. 🙂 I figure with the cake stuff, at least my kids will have awesome birthday cakes.Amira — I’ll still contend that my life isn’t nearly interesting enough to warrant a book. You could write something, though. Tigersue — Welcome! I have absolutely no objections to being on other people’s blog rolls. The more the merrier. 🙂


  3. MOM says:

    Your father sent this to me. I cried. I’m so glad you have found what you love and what you are good at doing. It’s so rewarding when a parent discovers this about a child.


  4. I love happy endings. And, gosh, you ended up in Wichita? You’re just a short hop from my hometown, which I happen to think is totally peachy and would happily move back to in a heartbeat (Ponca City, OK). We bought our shoes in Wichita. Ah, memories. 😉


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