Or, knowing you want to write from a young age
Yesterday, I went and saw Aimee Nezhukumatathil speak at my college, and she told a story about reading a prose poem that changed her life, and helped her decide she wanted to be an English major, not a Chemistry major, in her junior year of college.
Something about these kinds of stories are inspiring, but inevitably alien to me. My decision to be a writer (or rather, my lack of decision) seems less miraculous and destined. I’ve been writing since I was very young, I’ve been an avid reader since before that. Something about the idea that I could have legitimately been anything else is off-putting. I realize that I’ve always wanted this, even when I thought I wanted something else. My favorite book, Inkheart is literally a fantasy about the power of words and stories. There was never a moment where I thought, “This is something I could do.” It was something that, for much of my earlier life, I simply did.