I've probably said (typed) this already, but I only began seriously writing and researching the publishing world a few months ago (end of Dec/beginning of Jan). I've always been an avid reader, and when I was younger I wrote lots of stories. As I got older I wrote some poetry, but it definitely wasn't my best work! Unfortunately, I did very little writing in my 20s. I have a few failed nanowrimos to my name, but thats about all. Then I had - hmmmm, what would you call it? Is 31 too old for a quarter-life crisis? (I guess so considering I doubt I'll live to reach 124.) It's too young for a mid-lfe crisis though (at least I hope so!). A crisis of faith? A career crisis? I don't know, but whatever it was, it made me decide I had to make a change in my life. Not only do I hate my job, but I hate my career path. I'm a 31 (almost 32) year old administrative assistant. Yeah, that's something to brag about at the 15 year high school reunion! I hate taking orders from people and being treated like a peon. It's seriously a horrible job (unless you enjoy being bossed around by people who think they're better than you).
The first idea I came up with was not "become a writer", though. No, my brilliant plan was to go back to school to be a psychologist! Despite not even having my bachelors degree, I decided I should go get my masters in psych! I spent all of last summer researching careers in psych, reading books, looking at graduate schools (cart before the horse much?!?) and so on. I was deluded in thinking I could tolerate taking night classes for the next 4 or 5 years while working full time to pay the bills (not to mention after that I'd have to go to grad school - if I could even get in - full time so I wouldn't be able to work & then how the hell would I make any money???). I was absolutely insane in thinking this was the road I should take. I guess I figured since I've always been interested in how minds work (especially criminal or insane ones), I should pursue a career in pyschology. My first night of school was at the end of August 09 and I was signed up for two classes. All it took was a few hours of listening to professors talking about what they expected from the class for me to decide I did NOT want to do this. No way, no how. Too much school, too much money (student loans etc), too much time and way too much work.
I've always answered those "what is your dream job?" questions with "(novel) author". But when I answered those questions, I hadn't actually done any serious writing yet. Like I said, my 20s were pretty much just a waste of 10 years (which really bothers me considering how much I could've accomplished if I'd picked something to do with my life back then, but that's another story for another time). The thought of actually attempting to make a career out of writing wasn't something I'd considered a possibility. Even now I know that it's still a long shot, but I'm tired of working at jobs I hate all day and only dreaming about doing what I love! Dreaming isn't doing, and you can't succeed until you try. So even if I don't end up getting published (ever *sob*), at least I can say I tried, I gave it my best shot. At least I didn't waste away my 30s like I did my 20s. At least I put effort into something intstead of letting time just pass me by.
And that's how I got to where I am now. It's not quite where I want to be yet, but I hope that with hard work and perseverence, I can get to that place eventually. Cross your fingers for me.
~Meghan
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