Thursday, August 04, 2005
Regular visitors to my blog know that I am an inveterate reader. I learned to read young, and never looked back. But what you may not know about me is that my childhood ambition was to be a writer. One of my first independent acts as a child was to submit a joke idea to Mork and Mindy (I told you I was a geek). By independent, I mean that I went to the library and researched how to send a story idea in to a television network, I wrote it out by hand, sent it off, and never heard from them again, without ever telling my parents about it. No, I'm not going to tell you the joke. I was like 10. It wasn't funny. I see that now.
I kept a journal all through high school and college (and on and off again for all of my adult life). I wrote a ton of poetry, short stories and plays. The highlight of my writing career was in my freshman year of college, when a one-act play that I wrote was performed at my high school. But after a string of rejection letters from all manner of literary journals, short story rags, and poetry magazine, I gave up that dream in my early 20s.
Fast forward to late June of this year (and that's a lot of fast forwarding), when I got an email from an editor at the San Diego Reader. They wanted to publish posts from my blog in their weekly paper during the month of August. And they were willing to pay me to do it. For those of you surfing in from the Reader, here's a link to the post that's printed in this week's edition.
For the next week or so, I deliberated the idea, and peppered the editor with questions. She graciously answered them all, and so I decided, what the hell. I was sort of convinced it was a scam, because I'm cynical like that, but I went for it anyway. I kept thinking it was a scam up until the first check arrived, and then I decided that it must be the real thing. So without further ado, here's the link. I've finally achieved my childhood dream, although that dream had no way to imagine the medium of its success.
• Posted By landismom @ 8/04/2005 05:50:00 AM • • •