Being Vulnerable: A Writer’s Journey: (4th Installment)

Carol Hoenig
3 min readJul 26, 2022

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Even though I was always interested in writing, from the time I could put crayon to lined paper, it took me years to actually consider that it could be more than just a hobby, more than sharing my rhyming or free verse drivel with friends. Prior to moving to Long Island, I worked as a secretary/receptionist at an attorneys’ office, but once I moved to Long Island, due to marriage, I first took care of three children whose mother had died much too young of cancer; they are still a very big part of my life. I then had my own children. I loved being a mother, but I also wanted to do more with my life. I really wanted to be a writer, but I felt that could be nothing more than a dream. For me, writers were on some unreachable pedestal. So, instead of going after my dream, I avoided it and tried to find something else to inspire me. I thought interior designing was a possibility, but after one initial introductory class, I found I didn’t have the passion for it. People in the class were chatting about window treatments and placement of console tables — all of it boring me to distraction.

Then, my husband, from whom I am now divorce, started his own business and needed a receptionist/secretary. I said no. And even though he begged me, I kept saying no. But he eventually wore me down and I finally agreed to work for him part-time, even though his accountant at the time ticked me off when he said it was the wife’s duty to help her husband. It’s amazing that I lasted several months before I quit. It just wasn’t working out since I had to find a babysitter for my babies and that didn’t sit well with me; well, that, and the accountant’s misogynistic comment. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about writing, but I didn’t know where to begin. So I dipped my toe in the water, so to speak, and signed up for some college courses. It wasn’t easy with small children, but other women did it, so I figured I could, too. I also started going to author events, literary teas, and writers’ conferences, immersing myself in that world. Here’s an entry from those earlier days:

10/12/93

Went to Borders Bookstore* tonight. There was an open mic. I finally got up and read two poems I wrote: Written Word and Mr. Preacher Man. I blushed and trembled and even messed up a line. I felt pathetic. Afterward, I went to the register to buy a wonderful art book on Van Gogh for a mere $20. A nice collector’s edition. Anyway, one of the staff was there and he mentioned that he heard me read and liked it a lot. It certainly made me feel better, even though I want to flog myself.

As you can see, my confidence was still wanting, but at least I took that brave step of being willing to open myself to ridicule, and maybe even praise, which is something every writer must be willing to do.

*This was before I worked at Borders Books & Music but was a faithful patron.

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Carol Hoenig
Carol Hoenig

Written by Carol Hoenig

Carol Hoenig is President of Carol Hoenig, Publishing Consultant, Inc. and the author of several novels. You may find out more about her at carolhoenig.com.

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