Thursday, January 20, 2011

Too Cool for School

         So I’m 34, I’ve written one novel and some stories and am working on more of both.  The thing is, I feel like I’m just now figuring out how to be a good writer.  This is surely normal; writing your second novel is probably a typical time of growing, learning, evolving as an author.  I’d say my situation is on track except for one major thing which I now suspect may have slowed me down: I didn’t go to school.
         I graduated high school (though it took me five years) and then I opted not to pursue further education.  I thought at the time that this was a practical choice because the only things I was interested in studying were literature and art, and I had the cynical intelligence to see that these probably wouldn’t lead to jobs that would lead to me paying back my school loans.  Consequently I’ve never been burdened with debt incurred by an education.  Nice.  But at age 34 I’ve worked a series of dead end jobs and slightly shameful service positions.  With a degree, even one in writing, I’d have had the confidence to pursue a better job.
         If I’d gone to school, studied literature, I would have met likeminded people (not so easy at the dead end jobs) and made contacts.  Under the guidance of teachers and peers, forced to adhere to schedule and syllabus, I now believe my writing would have progressed much farther much faster, and I wouldn’t have spent all those years questioning my sanity and wallowing in insecurity.
         

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