As I’m coming up on my five-year mark since having graduated
college, and realizing I’ve officially been out longer than I was in, it has me
thinking about school and learning in general. I was an English major, creative
writing. Makes sense, right? I was one of those kids that knew she wanted to be
a writer since she could hold a pencil. I didn’t really have to think about
what I wanted to do, or how I would get there, because you just sit down and
you write. Right?
Oh, how naive I was. I trusted the system, trusted my
creative writing program to teach me how to write, how to edit, how to get
published. I didn’t even know you needed a literary agent to get traditionally
published until around the time of GRADUATION senior year. That’s messed up.
I went to a small, liberal arts college. Any professors that
had been published there were through small, independent presses, and I don’t
think a single one wrote fiction. And that’s fine, but my dream has always been
to walk into a bookstore and see my book sitting there on the shelf.
That’s rare with small, indy presses. And no one could tell me the process for
the other way.
This was back in 2009. Twitter was relatively new, so I hope
young writers these days are finding more access to information than I was. The
writing community on there is full of so much information, and so supportive.
But I didn’t find that until 2011.
Someone told me in order to find an agent, I had to consult
this GIANT TOMB of agencies and publishers. I can’t even remember now, what it
was called. And sure, maybe that was how it worked before the internet, but
this was 2009! Most agencies had websites, with a lot more accurate information
listed on them than in that year-old reference book. But I did as I was
instructed and went to the library and I took notes.
And that’s when my education really began.
I have learned more in the five years since leaving
college than I did in the four years I was in it. And I’m starting to realize
something kind of awesome. I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but for
me, the “real world” is sort of a constant independent study, just without the
term papers. I get to research what I want, when I want, and I’m realizing that
I’m a lot more curious about things than I ever thought.
Among these lessons, the hardest one was probably how to
self-edit. Some of my creative writing classes were workshops, classes where
one person’s short story or poem got critiqued by the class each week, and then
the writer was supposed to take that feedback and use it to edit their work.
Now, maybe things would’ve been different in a larger school
with a more intensive creative writing program, I don’t know. For better or worse
(probably worse) I was a big fish in a small pond. I was one of the few in
these classes that took writing seriously. I was there to learn how to be a writer, not just filling an English requirement. And so, I was always one of
the best. My critique day consisted of people being really impressed and
complimentary. Which, great for my ego, not so much for the writing. How was I
supposed to edit something that was already PERFECT? I was hot stuff. I was
going to graduate and get published that summer and never have to worry about
getting a “real job”. I was going to show all those people who kept telling me
I would have to do something to support myself. I would show them.
Yeah…
Sometimes those people are right. And that's okay. It doesn't mean you've failed.
I’m not saying that you should give up on your dreams.
Never! Dreams are the stuff of our souls! But they take hard work and sweat to
accomplish them, and it's delusion to think otherwise. You have to kill your darlings, find your voice, sometimes
forgo sleep to find the time, grow a dragon hide to wear against rejection, and
still somehow keep going.
I don't resent the lies. I told myself most of them. And I think I needed to. I needed to be able to dream, and big, without reservation. Maybe I should've done my own research sooner. But I got there eventually. We all do, if it means enough to us. And there's no expiration date on dreams.
So whatever your dream, keep at it. Keep learning, keep pushing yourself, keep growing. We all know the saying. The only difference between a published and
unpublished writer is that one of them didn’t give up.
