When You Grow Up . . .

Dreaming of being a grown-up (I since figured out where the shaving cream goes for girls).

So what do you want to be when you grow up? I wanted to be a ballerina, a lawyer and an interior decorator. In college I wanted to be a marine scientist until I took chemistry. Then I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but I got a degree in English because that was what I was good at.

Through it all, the one thing I did was write. Before I knew my alphabet, I would fill any blank piece of paper I came across with squiggles and swirls that looked kind of like lines of words in a book. When my older brother learned his letters, he would pick out things that looked kind of like an “l” or an “i” or maybe an “e.” I was beyond thrilled when he found actual letters in my scribbles.

I wrote letters and short (very short) stories and poems. Eventually I wrote things that were kind of coherent. In college I published poems in the school journal and articles in the school newspaper. I wrote news releases, freelanced and I was a newspaper reporter for a couple of years. One day I had a poem published in an actual book. Then a couple of more in journals and magazines. And so I wrote a book. I realized that if I could string together all the words I’d written thus far I’d have many books. How hard could it be?

Well, kind of hard. But honestly, I don’t think I can help writing. So why not a book? And why not another one? Maybe someone will even read them someday. I’m still growing up every day, still figuring out what I want to do and be. But the one thing I can’t imagine NOT doing is writing. Thank goodness it’s not hang gliding.

Q4U – What’s the one (or two) things you can’t imagine not doing? Is that what you want to do when you grow up?

2 thoughts on “When You Grow Up . . .

  1. Love the picture, but it’s the wrong one for the post…
    I can’t imagine not reading… anything and everything!
    Can’t imagine not having been a nurse… the way it used to be to be a nurse..

    • Yeah, somewhere there’s one of me burrowing in the laundry you were sorting in the hall with my stash of “papers” close at hand. This is the one I could find!

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