Here are the rules:
1. Write for five minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back to Lisa Jo Baker's blog with the rest of the Five Minute Friday-ers.
3. Comment on the person who linked up before you.
Please join us!
Today's prompt: Writer
I do love being a writer.
Let me clarify by saying that I write, therefore I am a writer. Kind of like I run and sing, so I am a runner and a singer. I'm not saying I'm exceptional or even particularly good at any of them, but I do them.
I've always loved writing. When I was in second grade, I won an honorable mention in a local story contest. It was then that I abandoned my dream of becoming as astronomer (because what first grader doesn't dream of becoming an astronomer?) and decided I wanted to be a children's book author. Aside from a brief detour in fifth grade when I flirted with the idea of becoming a meteorologist, (again, perfectly normal, right?) the children's book author thing stuck until well into high school. That's when I discovered that music was more of a passion than a hobby. Sadly, I kept that illusion until my junior year of college, when I rediscovered that it was still a passion, but more the kind of passion that was a hobby than a career. Oops.
My senior year, I took the required keystone course. I didn't particularly care for the course or the professors, but I didn't mind the homework. We had to write several short papers, the aims of which were probably to help us become more self-reflective and learn about ourselves before we entered the big scary real world. Cheesy, but a little fun to a nerd like me. I never put too much effort into them - I treated them as more of a "free write" assignment than anything.
After class one day, one of the professors stopped me and said, "Have you ever thought about pursuing a career in writing? You have a real gift for it."
This coming from someone who didn't know I'd abandoned such a dream seven years before. I haven't been able to shake that comment. Even now, six years later, I couldn't tell you a single thing about that class, except that my professor made me think about writing again.
That comment, along with a college friend/acquaintance (the beautiful Anna of girl with blog) are the reason you are reading this post today.
Isn't it funny how off hand comments can stick with you in ways that neither you nor the comment-er ever thought they would?