For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved to write. I penned my first novella at the age of 12. It was a thriller, the kind of thing I was into in my pre-teen years. I have the hand written sheets filed away in a folder, collecting dust in my parents shed. I know I would cringe to read it now.
I put my dreams of creative writing aside when I was in my final years of high school and even into university. I was told unequivocally that I would not make money in writing. It was not a viable career choice. It never occurred to me that I could pursue it anyway. So instead, I defected to Public Relations and Communications, and began to carve a career in the corporate sector. Since then, I have moved into Project Management in IT. It’s a far cry from my childhood dreams of authoring.
Now, I’m the mother of an energetic toddler, trying to find my way back to writing, while still working part time. I haven’t given up on my dream, in fact, I want it more now than ever. I want to show my son that you can chase your dreams and make a career out of the thing you love. Success does not necessarily equal riches, fame and fortune. But success should always mean happiness.