I went to college in Northwestern PA intent on a Computer Science degree, but lucked into an English Lit major. But not before taking at least one class in almost every department my school offered. I wrote a decent amount while I was there. Editorial Board and Assistant Perspectives editor for the school paper. Along with a great group of friends, I was one of the founding members of our college's Creative Writing Club, which I'm proud to say lasted for several years after we all graduated.
After graduation, I spent two more years in Pittsburgh before moving to Boston without a real plan for the future. The first two months I slept on the couch of two of my closest friends, who still remain two of my closest friends despite the fact that I slept on their couch for two months. I am forever grateful to them for that.
And then ten years passed. I found a job, moved into my own apartment. Then two more apartments. Met a wonderful woman and then married her. I wrote almost exactly nothing during that time, and there's only me to blame for that. I lost whatever drive I had to write. I just couldn't work up the nerve. And I think that's what it was: nerve. I was afraid of failing and giving up again. You can't give up on something if you don't start right?
My wife and I moved to Maine several years ago. Boston's a great city to live in, and sometimes I still miss it, but it was time for us to leave. We were tired of being packed in that tightly with other people and needed some room to breathe.
In the last year, I've finally gotten back to writing. I think I'm better equipped mentally for it now. Less fear of failure. If I never get published, then fine. At least I'll have tried. And I'll keep trying. The amount of rejection that comes with trying to be a pro writer would have crushed me in my twenties. I can handle it now.
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