(Thursday) March 20, 2008
Some bad news: I received notice on Monday that I didn’t get into Emerson College for graduate school. I was pretty bummed about it, cried to my mom, talked to a good friend, realized that I’m a little bit relieved as well as disappointed (i.e. I won’t be in debt for all of eternity). They related that the Publishing and Editing program is becoming more competitive, and this year they have had the largest number of applicants than in years previous, so I suppose there’s some consolation in that. It was a longshot, but I believed in myself. Although it was a disappointment, I’m still more determined than ever to give my career a jumpkick.
However, suddenly I’m doubtful as to what that career is.
I’ve always been ambitious and determined — I wanted to go to college and have a successful career doing something that I loved. But all of a sudden, with this rejection (there truly is no other word for it, is there), I’m beginning to question myself: what if my dream is only my dream because it’s always been my dream?
I love to read and I love to write, that is undeniable. Last week, Sarah and I were working on her story, and I sat there asking her questions about her characters, etc in order to help her flesh things out. And I felt at home — editing, specifically content editing, for creative writing is what I love to do. I feel like I have this instinctive notion of what can make something not only better for a reader, but marketable. So I guess the answer is that, yes, to work with authors and fiction books is my dream…but dreams change.
So I’ve been applying to jobs across the country. As much as I love Lancaster and would love to live here forever and be near my family, I don’t believe there is anything here for me career-wise. And, truth be told, I’m terrified of giving up my dream of a career. Maybe eventually, I’ll end up back in Lancaster. Maybe I won’t end up leaving at all. But I believe, right now, I need to be doing something where I can grow, be creative, utilize my skill set and talents, and, most importantly, write.
The greatest lesson I’ve learned throughout all of this is that I need to just let things be, to let opportunity take me where I need to go. I can’t plan my entire life out, no matter how much I want to. There are detours and ditches and sometimes dead ends. The road these past few months have been unpaved and rough, but now I feel some sort of hope, even with this setback.
One of my closest friends Josh (who, ironically lives very far away) was actually the voice of reason for me after I cried to my mom (sorry, Mom! You always seem to get the brunt of my emotions). He mentioned something about life being a ride, to which I agreed. That is exactly what it has been like. For six months, I’ve been slowly trudging uphill like a rollercoaster. I can see the peak and I know that it will take off from there, but I can’t make it go any faster. It’s a great analogy for how I am feeling; trust me, I’ve got a million of ’em!
What I fear now is that by being so eager for my life to get started, I’m forgetting that it already has — that I am so very young and I have years and years ahead of me. Nothing has to be decided right now; I can’t let precious moments slip away as I’m waiting for something greater to occur, because maybe that something greater is happening right now.
Trial and error.
Maybe it’s not such bad news bears.