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My Writer's Journal

How I Began

Kids ask me how old I was when I started writing and when I knew that I wanted to be a writer. In fact I think I always knew, but it took me a long time to figure out how to make it happen. I read a lot when I was young, and I wrote a lot, starting in about 3rd grade; edited the school newspaper and class yearbook; majored in English in college; thought about journalism, flirted with the idea of going into TV but abandoned it because there were scarcely any women working in television in those days, certainly not in important jobs. So I worked as a secretary for awhile, hated it, got married, had a baby, settled down as a housewife, and hated that, too.

When I was 25 I started to write seriously, hours every day. At first everything I submitted was rejected. I persisted. Finally, an acceptance. I kept at it. Had two more children and tried to figure out how to write with kids around, sent them off to sitters, hired teenagers to entertain them. My oldest son later complained that I ignored them. I defended myself: "I was always there when they got home from school." He said, "Yes, but you weren't thinking about us. You were thinking about writing."

Guilty as charged.

Eventually they grew up, and eventually I became an established writer. We all survived, even thrived. There are undoubtedly easier ways to make a life, but I can't think of any that for me would be more satisfying.
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