When I was in high school, my career goal was to become a composer. I fell in love with film scores and throughout middle and high school it’s all I listened to. I had been first chair flute since fourth grade and I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything other than music.

Eventually, in college, I realized that perhaps music wasn’t for me after all, and set my eyes on the world of publishing. I fell into literature and, naturally, in love. I was a contributing editor and then editor-in-chief of my University’s literary magazine, which was quite thrilling. I know that publishing is where I want to be, only I haven’t taken any solid steps towards the industry.

I’ve hit quite a snag, you see. As a recent college graduate, I value financial stability much higher than happiness in my workplace, which is why, after graduation, I slumped back to the only job I’ve consistently had since high school: retail. I can’t complain too much, though. I’m at a wonderful company now, and I was just promoted to a management position.

It’s just not what I want.

I want to be surrounded by what I love: words. Admittedly, I visit my local library more than twice a week, which keeps me sane, somehow, and is enough for now. I’m getting impatient, though. I know what I want, but I’m also terrified to step away from what I’m comfortable with.


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