So after much internal struggle and a realization that I must, in fact, pursue a career that will make me happy, I have allowed myself to write.
To begin I have had a love affair with the written word for as long as I can remember. I would read every book I could find, I even remember reading my mothers college textbooks when I was around 8 or 9 years old as I had already exhausted all other books in the house. I would practice writing my own little stories and have kept a journal to this day. I find something so beautiful in the written word and the artisans who craft amazing tales which expand my knowledge and imagination. I knew I wanted to be one of them but for years was convinced I must choose a practical career or something close to it. Clearly, I did not fully believe this as I chose a degree in Anthropology and unless I planned to become a teacher of Anthropology not the most practical application in the working world. But it fits great in the world of writing!
So here I am at the beginning! and I am excited about the next phase.