Jan 6
Jan 6 25 Authors on the Moment they Knew they Wanted to Become an Author
25 Authors on the Moment they Knew they Wanted to Become an Author
Much like Lady Gaga, I was born this way – wanting to be a writer. However, becoming an “author” (and I use the quotes advisedly) took time. When I began writing my memoir, AfterImage, about becoming a widow, I wasn’t sure that what I was writing would grow up to be a book. I remember that late one night, while I was working, a particular phrase appeared on screen as I typed and I thought, “That’s an interesting way to put that; I would find that interesting to read in a book.” And then I realized, “I am writing a book.” It felt “authorly” in the way that artists sometimes refer to certain pieces as being particularly “painterly.”
In real life: an editor. (I’d been a magazine editor and enjoyed it.)
This is kind of a funny story. About five years ago, the company my husband works for decided to do a community outreach program with Scott Air Force Base in IL. My husband and I offered to take books to the Base Library, (one book for each child in the summer reading program) and we would read the book aloud to the kids during story time. The phrase “Necessity is the mother of invention,” really came to fruition for us. We learned that there were at least 45 kids in the program, so I decided to write a booklet rather than go to the bookstore and purchase 45 books. Our booklet was a hit! That was the first of four booklets that we’ve done for the summer reading program. My husband helps by giving me wonderful ideas to write about and he also does a fabulous job as the puppeteer during the readings. We decided to self-publish JULIANNE’S BIG MOVE when a reading specialist from the St. Louis public school system reached out to me with interest in purchasing a set of books for her classroom.
CAROLINE: When I was seven years old.
CHARLES: I always loved words and their use to persuade. It took many years to develop the patience to write a book.
I knew in 8th grade. Our teacher set up a sort of “open-mic” class period, during which we could read anything we wanted. I read a twenty-page fantasy story about a dragon slaying a knight. It was terrible. My classmates applauded anyway, thus sealing my fate.
This is such an interesting question. I’m not sure if there ever was a moment when I knew I wanted to become an author. As a kid, that idea seemed so far away from my own reality. And if anything, I heard more discouragement about being an author (“you can’t make a living as an author”) than encouragement. Instead, I had a moment of “OMG I’m an author” when my first book, The Rampart Guards,” received a starred review from Kirkus Reviews. When I saw that star, I felt like I’d been glitter-bombed with validation fairy dust and was floating above the floor. I remember thinking, “Wow, I guess I really did write a kick-ass story.” Even thinking back on it now, I feel the giddiness of that moment.
When I walked into Caroline Ferriday's house in Bethlehem, Connecticut.
The same moment I realised stories were created by human beings and not forces of nature, like clouds or earthquakes. That was knowing I wanted to be an author. The confidence to actually do it came decades later.
I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be one.
When I was five years old, reading Little House in the Big Woods for the first time.
As kids, my cousin and I were at a sleepover at our grandparents' house. She showed me a story she'd written and I was completely smitten with it. I wanted to try my hand at writing too, and haven't stopped since.
When I was 19, I had a stray, brave idea to send a poem I'd written to Cosmopolitan magazine, which occasionally published poems WAY back then. I'd never done anything of the kind before, but the magazine sent me back a letter telling me they were going to print my work, and a check for twenty-five dollars. I almost couldn't cash it, I was so excited. Someone out there in the universe thought I was a real writer! Maybe I was.
When I read Margaret Atwood’s The Edible Woman on holiday in 2001. I remember the moment exactly. I thought, ‘I could do this.’ (So naïve.)
When I won a writing competition in 6th grade
I think the moment came when I received a slew of rejections from agents for the first book I’d ever written. Up until that point, I’d dabbled with writing, but I really wasn’t taking it seriously. I thought I’d send the book out, and if I was rejected, I would know writing wasn’t for me and try something else. But when I saw those rejections, I realized how badly I wanted this and got back to work, starting a new book and dedicating myself to the pursuit of becoming an author. That next book eventually landed me my agent.
I don’t know if I could pin it to an exact moment, because I was very young when I first thought of writing. As a child, I was entranced with Eloise , and a bit later, with Harriet The Spy , so evidently I favor female protagonists who are smart, roguish, and creative. Somewhere along the line it dawned on me that I could invent one of those myself, although it took me an embarrassingly long time to actually try it.
Very young. Around 8 or 9 years old. Because reading and writing had always been connected to me and I knew that I couldn’t do one without doing the other. Even at that age I told people I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.
Perhaps it was my freshman year of high school. It’s hard to name the specific moment because I’ve always loved to write. But I had a great English teacher in ninth grade – who I have coffee with now and again all these many years later – who gave me the affirmation I needed to think of myself as a writer with potential. I just didn’t start writing books then. In fact, I was 42 before I wrote my first novel, but I do remember the moment I knew I had to try to my hand at it. I was a newspaper editor at the time, and my beloved grandfather had just died. He’d been 84. I was 42. I did the math and realized my life was half over and I hadn’t even tried writing one. Fear of rejection had kept me from giving it a shot, but in that moment I decided I’d rather live with rejection than regret. So I quit the day job to write my first book. Best (and scariest) decision I ever made.
Nine years old, fourth grade, in possession of a thirty-page mad scientist short story.
In all honesty I can’t ever remember not wanting to write in some capacity.
When I made my neighbor cry when she read my first manuscript.
I've always been an avid reader. I once read a book that frustrated me and my husband joked that I should write the book I wanted to read then. I took the challenge and fell in love with the process. I'd been a copywriter for about a decade prior to the endeavor, so writing wasn't new to me, but being a novelist is a different, wonderful beast.
When I was in first grade, and the grownups oohed and ahed over my poems about bunny rabbits and kittens.
I used to write poems and short stories as a little girl and always told myself that I would write a book one day. But I was truly inspired in third grade when I read Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie (Andrews) Edwards. It’s a wonderful, fanciful story and I still smile when I imagine the Whangdoodle who has a daisy on his sweet tooth.
It was in my early 20's when I was reading my boyfriend's books and thinking that all the male writers were young and hip and all the female writers were old and worthy and that someone needed to turn that around and maybe it could be me.
After reading Island of The Blue Dolphins
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