Do you see what I did there? A nice play on words with my title should if nothing, show you I’m committed to my craft.
For as long I as can remember I have wanted to be a writer. As a child I loved reading and spending time in my school library; thrilled I was reading at a 5th grader level when only in the 2nd grade (Babysitters Club FTW) I flourished in high school English and Lit courses. To this day, my favorite teacher was my 11th grade Brit Lit teacher, Ms. Frabotta. Taking creative writing with friends and one of the more liberal nuns at my Catholic High School was something I looked forward to everyday. My first real-live recognizable mentor was my English 101 teacher at Loyola who was a former speech writer for Mayor Daley and a poet. She pushed me to work hard and strive at developing my craft. She got one of my articles on the power of literacy published that year.
So what I’m telling you is, I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I thought when I grew up I’d be a journalist or a novelist– someone with notebook in hand and coffee stains who researched all day. Instead I received a degree in Public Relations, and to a real journalist I committed the worst sin possible. I went from aspiring to be a noble writer to becoming a FLACK.
I convinced myself being a publicist was like being a writer, but with a corporate salary and potential to climb the ladder. I told myself it was safe, competitive, and challenging. I can tell you working in PR is all of those things. I’m lucky to craft stories and brand messages everyday, even if it is a little less noble than working on deadlines for articles and writing the news. My writing isn’t art, it doesn’t bring fantasy to life, or make readers really feel anything (except maybe the desire to buy things)
I guess that’s why I have this little blog here. To practice my craft. To write for myself. To explore a secret part of my ‘when I grow up’ life. Because heck, I’m still not a grown up and there is plenty of time to write.