I'm not the one who pushes through crowds and steps on toes to get interviews. I don't chase people down. I don't like hurting people's feelings. Death and destruction really aren't my thing. Plus, picturing my future as writing for a court or transportation beat makes me want to throw up.
I like to write the feel good stories. The one about the Halloween festival for kids or the new dance class on campus.
Most importantly, I don't particularly have this intense burning desire to inform the public. That's what all the journalists say, right? They want the public to know all sides of a story so they can make informed opinions and actions.
Last year when I figured this out I thought that the answer was to run around the university catalog and look for a new major...huge mistake. A friend of mine knocked some sense into me and encouraged me that journalism majors don't have to be journalists. So I coasted on that for a while until finally it hit me.
I LOVE BOOKS. Love love love love love.
I love the written word. I love stories. I love grammar. All these things are the makings of a journalist, but it turns out I love BOOKS not the news.
So my newfound dream is to work for a book publishing company. I haven't been excited about my future for quite a while now. And the fervor is back. Hours spent researching the career. Reading everything I can get my hands on.
When I was younger, I wouldn't read anything besides the Babysitter's Club...until the Read-Up program at my private school. I had to read other books to get points and a good grade. So in came Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, Poppy, Number the Stars. This is when I learned to love reading.
I would kill to work in that pre-teen division of publishing. I want every person to love reading. (It keeps you learning long after you're done with school.) And those formative years spent reading the Boxcar Children and Judy Blume are what ignite the passion for reading.
I'm excited again. And it's never felt better.
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