As another school year winds down for K-16 students across the country, I find myself pondering such altruistic, open-ended concepts as limitless potential and freedom of/in choice. At the same time, I’m doing my best to encourage my own children to close out these last few weeks in style by pressing through and persevering, when I know all they want to do is turn it in and get on with summer.
My oldest is a lot like me, particularly when it comes to his love of reading and writing. On a recent trip home from school, we were discussing the concept of writing books for a living, which he says he wants to do and thinks I should, too. (In his defense, we watch a lot of “Castle” — yes, for the writing/storylines more so than the eye candy for both sexes.) I love that he’s naïve enough to believe that anything you set your mind to, you can achieve. I love that he sees all the beauty where all I see are the obstacles which I like to label (perhaps too easily and conveniently) reality. Most of all, I love his boundless enthusiasm and unshakable belief in his mom. It’s in his DNA on both sides.
At one point in our conversation, he said to me, “But, Mom, think about it — you could write about what you love!” A heady thought, I suppose, particularly for a kid who’s told what to do and how to do it in the majority of his classes. Ever the practical realist, I replied, “Yes, but then there’s the ultimate question: Would it sell?” (Forgive me, Jonas Eriksson, but one of us has yet to write that bestseller, much less start that college fund. Uh, let’s not mention that to the aspiring author, please.) He agreed that was a critical point to consider, and then, just as quickly as the traffic signal turned from red to green, we shifted our focus to another, more pressing issue — the homework he had due for the next day and rest of the week.
Somewhere lost in the mental shuffle was what I should have told him and will. That I do write about what I love, because writing is what I love. That therein lies the beauty of writing and true love of words — it’s a passion so often and so fluidly fulfilled, regardless of topic, medium or deadline. Much like “Green Eggs and Ham,” I’ve found that I like words in a blog. I do, I do like them in a press release or magazine-length feature. I even like them in 140 characters or less, with or without hashtags, and as status updates. And who could resist headlines?!? For me, the variety is the challenge and appeal as much as the subject matter. Which, for the past decade or so has been science, so I’ve got my work more than cut out for me — and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Words have the power to educate, encourage and inspire. Yep, it’s official: A quarter century or so removed from having to declare a major, I’m still sold on my decision. Here’s hoping he can say the same at my age — and that I’m still around, not only to see it but more so to write about it using whatever the latest technology of the moment is by then.