A story of a writer turned writer.
To those of us still figuring out what our writing niche is.
We all have to start somewhere.
I’m a writer because I love to talk, and sometimes people don’t have the attention span to listen to me drone on about a subject for hours. So, I write.
If you were someone who consistently received the note “[Name] is a smart, promising student but needs to work on talking less in class. They are a distraction to other students,” please raise your hand with me! My parents always asked me why, oh why, could I not (respectfully) shut up during class, to which I always responded, “I have something to say.”
I’ve never really thought about why I’ve always loved writing so much, but I suspect it’s because of that very sentiment - I have something to say.
In my middle school days, I was quite an imaginative fiction writer. As a Potterhead, I always dreamed of writing a magical fantasy novel on par with the legendary Harry Potter series. I’m still working on that one… but regardless, I wrote endless paragraphs, pages, and short stories about witches, warlocks, princesses, dragons, and perhaps the occasional magical wizarding school that was definitely not Hogwarts.
As I aged up and began writing more and more book reports and lengthy academic essays, my writing style, too, shifted. My fantastical stories turned into realistic tales of teenage girls having “a hard time” until they met the “love of their lives.” Please don’t ask what a 15-year-old girl who had never been kissed knew about falling in love (spoiler: mostly what she learned from Twilight). I loved the idea that, when my own life felt dull, I could escape into the pages of my crafting that detailed a far more exhilarating, mature, yet attainable, livelihood.
Often, these fictitious stories ended abruptly after a few pages (my longest having fallen off after about 25 single-spaced pages). Perhaps that was a sign that I grew tired even of the lives of my made-up characters. Maybe I realized that, unless my characters suddenly turned into vampires or witches with never-before-seen powers and abilities, they, too, had some dull days.
Then came college, when I wanted to become a “serious writer.” I committed to Emerson College as a Journalism major, which I saw as the most serious, adult kind of writing there is. However, I quickly found myself in classrooms with students who had religiously watched cable news every night with their families and written for school newspapers since they perfected their ABCs. Oh no, I very much did not fit into this group. And, I’m sorry, but where was the fun in writing about what simply was, rather than what could be?
After a year, I switched majors to Marketing Communications. While my writing became much shorter and less frequent (scripting the occasional brand tagline or ad copy), I could hold on to some semblance of originality and creativity in said writing. This, I decided, was as serious as a writer could get while still making a living (I had long given up on my early dreams of writing a full-length, bestselling novel, once I realized it took more than a few days).
Never fear - I exercised my creative liberty in spaces outside of class. I first joined one on-campus magazine during my sophomore year as a staff writer. By my senior year, I was a member of four magazines, and I loved being able to write about whatever my heart desired (so long as the topics were approved by the editors). From a debate about whether or not plastic straw reduction was actually beneficial to the environment to a gripping recount of my experience amongst undocumented immigrants in El Paso, Texas on a service trip, I was writing creative non-fiction for the first time in my life.
Life gets away from you, though. Once I graduated from college, moved to New York City, and entered that dreaded “corporate world,” so went my motivation to maintain my creative writing. I began writing marketing briefs and campaign analysis presentations, and by the time I got home from a long day, the last thing I cared to do was write more.
Now that I’m just over 5 years post-grad, I’m reflecting on my life in more ways than one. Life is short, I’m young, and it’s never too late to pick up hobbies, new or old. I recently began freelance writing for the HubSpot Blog, where I used to intern in college. What I love about my work at HubSpot is that, although I’m assigned posts based on SEO data and not just writing whatever I willy-nilly desire, I can speak from my experience and integrate my personality and humor into my writing.
What I once believed to be “serious, adult writing” is not so black and white (as most writers presumably know). I am an adult, so I can assuredly cross that one off the list. As for seriousness, I understand now that writing is serious so long as I take it seriously. What I ponder, care about, and enjoy are incredibly important to me, so I hope others will also take them seriously.
All this is to say - I should really pick back up on those magical princess and dragon stories.