Member-only story
I’m Not Ready to Give Up
I’ll keep writing even if no one gets to read it.
I don’t know what to do with myself right now.
Just over a year ago, I started work at a wonderful place with wonderful people, and over 90% of the time I can confidently say that I love my job, and being there makes me happy.
That is a true statement.
For the entirety of my life since I grasped the understanding as a child that one day I would have to work at a job to have money to live, I knew that the only job I wanted was to write books.
I devoured books as a child.
My mom still jokes that when I was a kid I was way easier to take shopping than my sister.
When she took my sister shopping, she always wanted new clothes, and that adds up!
Mom said that when I went shopping with her, all that I ever wanted was books, and that memory checks out.
I remember being over the moon excited for the days that the Book Fair came to the hallways of my elementary school, and I circled all the books I wanted in the little paper Scholastic flier and ran with it to my mom to ask for the little envelope of cash she would give me so I could get books.
