The Making of a Writer. Part 1.

When I was in 4th grade, I knew I wanted to be a writer. Maybe it was inspiration from my Language Arts teacher. Maybe it was the ability to express my feelings to the world.

When I was in 8th grade, I knew I wanted to end up in New York. Maybe it was from the movies. Maybe it was wanting to go some place I had never been.

When I was 16, I knew I wanted to study journalism at NYU. But I didn’t think I’d end up there. It was the money, the distance, and the lack of self-confidence. Turns out my 16-year-old blogging self documented this. Also turns out, you can seriously Google and find anything.

Also for such big dreams of being a writer, looks like I was pretty terrible at it when I was 16. Then again, I also wrote awful poetry about boys who weren’t worth my time. Guess we can look back at the old journals, blogs, and cards- to see exactly who we used to be and how we changed since then. We’ll also see how we stayed the same and made some of our dreams come true.

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The December Tumblr Feed.

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Intermission!

Sorry for the lack of posts! Til my words grace your presence again, here’s a photo to hold you over.

 

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The Book Club.

I stumbled up this book at The Strand one day. I love getting lost in the travel section and it is rare I find a travel memoir as good as this gem. Dear Exile : The True Story of Two Friends Separated (for a Year) by an Ocean by Hilary Liftin and Kate Montgomery is a brilliant non-fiction travel writing piece that deserves a lot of attention.

College roommates keep in touch through letters when Kate joins the Peace Corps and heads to Africa, while Hilary stays in New York City and finds herself trapped in an office job. While the two keep in touch only through snail mail, you learn that each girl has her own ups and downs in her own significant journey. While one is in a third world country and the other is in the busiest city in America– you learn there are obstacles to overcome everywhere.

This book is not only beautifully written, but beautifully crafted– as each girl nearly writes prose to the other. The bond they share is also remarkable, it is the kind I wish I developed with my best girl friend in college. Not only is it a story of friendship– it is a story of hope for love and dreams. It gives me the courage to believe in my future. While I feel I’d love to live the life of both of these girls in my own way, I enjoy being able to read how each felt during the year.

I won’t spoil the book– but if you want to read an amazing journey of friendship and travel, definitely check this out. It’s one of those books that will teach you something about yourself, but not in a cheesy, chick-flick sort of way.

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The Offer.

When you get the call, you know it. You see the familiar number pop up and you hope like hell it’s what it is.

So after a few other offers since graduation, I found one to accept. This story is actually going to be short and sweet because I don’t want to give away much, but I will say– I was right to pass up an opportunity that would give me money for one I was passionate about.

Whenever I didn’t get a job, I’d say it was because the right one was out there and I could wait for it to come along. Today, I believed my own words.  When you find something you really want– you can write well for it, you can interview better, and they know you’re passionate. I am.

I’d like to say, today, I am one step closer to livin’  the dream.

(More to come on this, once things get rollin.’ Just know today was a better day.

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The Blog.

If I read one more article about how I should maintain a blog- I MAY go insane. I remember when I was in 8th or 9th grade and I kept a Xanga, LiveJournal, and Myspace. Well probably not all at once. As a recent college grad– who has few job prospects, I should blog more. I feel like my blog is often just a place for me to rant. As a person who has always been a over the place, I feel like my blog will never be about a single topic. Travel? Lifestyle? Health? Relationships? Maybe just topics that every college graduate thinks about..

“So what do you want to focus on? What is your dream job?” Interview after interview and you get asked these questions. By the third or fourth, you really should have perfected your answer. But maybe you are just 22 years old and have not figured it out. Maybe you don’t want to lie. There I sat in front of two senior editors at a publishing company two weeks ago. I went with line I rehearsed. “My dream job isn’t at a specific place. It’s at a publication where I can grow and learn from my colleagues. I want the opportunity to write. If I don’t have that chance, I won’t be happy.” Okay. The lines were not rehearsed just like that. But I did make it sound like I was perfecting my answer to fit into any place– this company or The New York Times or even CBS. Nothing was concrete. Correction: Nothing is concrete. .. . in my life.

So I blog. To keep up with the times. To keep my creative juices flowing. So I can answer the interview question: “What do you do now?” Nahhh. I enjoy this place. This is the place that I actually get to have an editorial forum. I can write in  first person. It reminds me of the Op/Ed section in my high school newspaper. I wrote a column every month. There were a few issues where I even had more than one story. That was 4 years ago and another ambitious girl. I hope I can find that girl soon because I am turning into a woman who feels a lot like an NYU graduate failure.

‘Til I turn into that girl. I will blog. Maybe sometime between now and then I will figure out what I am actually writing about.

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coffee shops

I’m sitting in a coffee shop on third avenue reading The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion.. I heard it is really good. I am pausing to think about the people that pass through. It isn’t a Starbucks or a Dunkin Donuts or even Think. But the employees recognize my face and my order. All types of people stroll in from the NYC cold… It isn’t snowing, but the streets are piled with snow from the past two days. It was a storm for the city. I expected this kind of blizzard in Ohio.

The boys to my right are eating pizza and wearing soccer jerseys and complaining about the costs. Children sit with their parents and eat cookies, a nutritional snack. An older gentleman sits waiting for the love of his life to return with their coffee. A young couple speaking some European language stumble over a map, unsure of their next destination. Then there is me– hat on head, reading, writing… And laughing to myself about how the guy next to me totally takes his girlfriend for granted.

I wonder if he is from the city or just a traveler passing through. That is expected here. Most people aren’t born here and most don’t stay. Or they can’t afford to. The concept of this city is hard to grasp, but I am determined to figure it out.

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