All through my first two years of high school, I said I wanted to be a “real, professional, writer” when I got older. For some reason, I knew I was a writer, but I didn’t feel like I was talented enough or skilled enough to be a real writer. That is what it all boiled down to, although I told myself I wasn’t a real writer yet because I wasn’t making any money from it. I don’t know what got that idea in my head, but it stuck with me until the spring of my Junior year of high school when I became involved in my high school’s literary magazine, Incriminating Ink. I was an editor that year, but somehow that wasn’t what made the biggest impact on my attitude toward writing. It was the fact that my writing made it in print. I didn’t care that the only people who would read it were a few of my fellow students and their parents. I was in print. And as we all stood at Joseph Beth bookstore at my first ever book signing where I was the one signing books, I finally felt like a real writer.
Ever since then, I’ve been saying my goal is to become a full-time author. I will not give up. I am still a relative amateur, but I will continue until I am a professional. I am a real writer now, I just cannot live off of the money I make from writing, which is at this point non-existent. That is irrelevant, though, to my passion and hard work that I put into my writing.