Step 1: Be an 18-year-old who decides to become an English Major.
Step 2: Disappoint EVERYONE YOU KNOW.
Step 3: Try to find a job with no “real” experience.
Final Step: Become a blogger. Tell yourself everything will be okay.
Okay, yes. I shouldn’t complain, I did bring it upon myself.
But honestly? I loved nothing more in my youth than strumming through the stale scented pages of old books and learning about magical worlds and creature origins and even the sultry love story of a tortured vampire (yes, every one went through that phase even though we all said we didn’t. We did. Nerd girls cannot resist that stuff in their preteen years). But at that age, that was acceptable. What teenager thinks of becoming a heart surgeon in the most hormone induced time of their lives? Not one. Those are the thoughts planted there by controlling parents or the mind-controlling platform that is daytime television. It is very rare to become and embody the role of Cristina Yang and for a young person to automatically want that immediately after graduation is just as unusual. Writers are constantly told they will never amount to anything. Or they are told they might be better off teaching. Which, isn’t a bad piece of advice to follow, as it is a respected profession… but it’s not for everyone.
So stop telling us that. It’s getting old. Seriously.
All I’m saying is, someone should have given me [us] a bigger heads up before we knew what we’d be getting ourselves into. I mean. You try going to college for 4+ years, graduating, and then try finding a writing job right off the bat. Even with a decent two-year internship, these people want AT LEAST 3+ years of professional publishing/editing/writing experience.
How are you going to sit there and tell me that all of the hard work I put into my Brit Lit I-III essays amount to absolutely nothing? I would have made Chaucer cry with all my analysis of his writings. They were that concise and intuitive.
My point being, to be a wise and successful writer, we have to suffer. A lot apparently. Which means no jobs OR internships until we’ve realized this inconvenient truth.
Which I now have.
You hear that? I’m ready to be hired, Publishers. Come and get me. -Dee