I wasn’t always a writer, you know. Becoming a published author has taken its sweet time, and it’s not like I’ve published a novel or anything. I am happy to say, however, that I’ve had two poems published and several articles, and I’ve been able to interview my favorite author, Marya Hornbacher. But writing was not my first love.

Drawing and sketching is something I’ve done since I could hold a pencil. Before I could read, I was scraping an old school No. 2 pencil (the ones you have to sharpen; the kids these days don’t even know what that means) across crumpled pages with sweaty-fisted fury. I was a drawing machine.

I’m not sure what made me decide to become an author. When I would write books when I was younger, mostly random pages with barely legible writing on them, I would make my mom be the publisher. Publisher meant being the one to staple it all together. Serious business. I would illustrate all of my own books with little more than stick figure drawings, but as I got older, it turned out that I had a talent for manga-style drawing.

Meeting my best friend, who is far more of a talented artist than I am, helped fuel the proverbial fire, and I determined I was going to go to art school. In my senior year of high school, which I spent in college, I was all set up to go to the Art Institute of Phoenix. Then my eating disorder decided to hit, and hit hard. My parents decided to cancel everything: all the student loans, my housing arrangements, everything. Looking back, it probably saved my life. Especially since there was a serial killer in the area I would have been living in (no, I’m not joking).

I spent two years getting my health back in as much order as I could and working to save up money for college. I was determined I was still going to art school. I even toured the campus of MCAD (which had a manga art program at the time), but nothing seemed to pan out. Financial aid was nowhere near covering it, and my parents couldn’t afford to sign their name onto a loan for tens of thousands of dollars. Looking back, this was also a very good thing. My school debt would have eventually crushed me.

I can’t remember exactly what made me spend thousands of dollars on a writing degree, but I think it might have been my memories of ‘publishing’ books as a child. Something about it warmed my heart, and I’d already taken college classes in Creative Writing. I found out I really liked it, and a degree in English costs significantly less than an art degree. It’s also less stressful. That’s not to say I didn’t still struggle with my mental illness, but I was able to let out some of the poison by writing.

Before this post gets too long, let me just say that I’m horrified to think I could have missed out on the opportunities I had while at college. There is no perfect, stress-free situation, but I have the feeling I would have been miserable at art school. Also, I hate shading. All of my sketches are uncolored and unshaded. I DO WHAT i WANT.

I still draw and sketch from time to time, and I’ve even thought about making my own t-shirt designs, but my true passion lies in writing. It’s slow-going, but I’m getting there. It’s pennies and dimes for now, but I know that once I get my health back up to where it needs to be, and I can write more articles with better efficiency, I’ll be able to make a full-time career out of it. For now, my parents are helping me out while I establish myself in the writing world, and the money I earn from writing helps to alleviate the financial strain on them. If you’re feeling generous, I do have a Paypal donate button in the sidebar. Any money donated will go to medical bills, and nothing else. I’ve had a lot of doctor’s appointments in the last year, and my therapy bills in particular are hitting me hard.

It’s all worth it in the end. I’ve never felt so right and so comfortable in the job I’ve chosen. I really feel a calling to it, like it was meant to be. It was hard to trust God to have a plan for me, but I feel like He’s led me to the right place.

I am, in the end, incredibly blessed. <3