The Moment I Wanted To Be A Writer

This past weekend, I attended the wonderful “Women of Letters” event with some lovely girls I studied journalism with. For those unfamiliar with “Women of Letters” (like I was until I went) from the website, “Women of Letters is Melbourne’s newest literary event – an afternoon that celebrates a diverse range of strong female talent whilst simultaneously raising funds for Victorian animal rescue shelter, Edgar’s Mission. Co-curated by writers Marieke Hardy and Michaela McGuire, the monthly occasion will bring together five of Melbourne’s best and brightest writers, musicians, politicians and comedians in celebration of the beautiful lost art of letter-writing.”

The event I attended was in Sydney and was the third Sydney event that showcased seven wonderful women; Annabel Crabb, Charlotte Dawson, Anita Heiss, Lucy Carter, Tracey Spicer, Jennifer Byrne and Leigh Sales. The letter they wrote was to “the moment the light switched on”. I thought it was a great topic as it allowed for so much diversity in answers from Annabel’s experience of head lice as an adult that resulted in phantom itching, to Lucy’s wonderful letter to her step father, to the misogynists Tracey has encountered and to the perils of the dating world according to Charlotte.

It was a lovely event, made even more lovely by the fact that CHARLOTTE DAWSON HELD MY HAND! It was a wonderful moment, I was leaving the bathroom on my way out and just happened to be walking by Charlotte and I said, in my awkward fan way, “I just wanted to say I think you’re fantastic” and she held out her hand, grabbed mine and said “Thank you”. I was pretty chuffed. And for those wondering, she is simply stunning in real life.

Anyway, it got me to thinking about what I would have said if I was on that panel (and hopefully I’ll be successful enough someday to be included on a panel like that). There have been many moments in my life when the light most definitely switched on and I thought I’d share one of them with you, the moment I realised I wanted to be a writer.

Growing up, my life’s ambition was to be either an actress or a model. I was tall for the girls my age, having had my growth spurt early and up until my mid-teens, I was quite the skinny minnie. With a flair for the dramatics, as anyone who knows me will know, I thought I would be a fantastic actress, the next Sandra Bullock, I was just THAT good. I think you’ll see that as a young child, I wasn’t exactly lacking in self confidence, but believe me, that has all definitely changed.

I then realised that my nerves, my sometimes poor memory skills and the fact that I had a sore throat 90% of the year meant that acting probably wasn’t it for me, but I still pursued it and did Drama in school until year 11 (I decided year 12 was too much work when I already had so many other major assignments).

It was when I was in year 6 OC (opportunity class) that I realised I wanted to be a writer. I remember enjoying all the poetry we had to write and getting really excited that not all poetry has to rhyme (FYI: not a fantastic rhymer). But even that wasn’t the moment I knew I wanted to be a writer.

We were studying the gold rush in Australia and we were asked to research the topic and write something about it. Being fascinated by researching something in an attempt to know more and then conveying that knowledge to others, I actually asked my teacher if I could spend more time researching this and write more. Yes, I asked for extra work. I remember handing in eight handwritten pages (which is a lot for an 11/12-year-old) and I was so proud of myself. When my teacher praised my work and commented that I was a good writer, I realised that I would be much better as a writer than I ever would be as an actress/model. And that was it, that was the moment I knew – I wanted to be a writer.

I spent my high school years sucking up to the English teachers and putting my best efforts into my writing. While the ultimate goal is, and always has been, to be a novelist, I decided it probably wasn’t the smartest thing in the world to base a career on this and made the decision to pursue journalism.

I started writing for my division of CanTeen’s member’s magazine, I joined a “student journalism” team that wrote stories for our school newsletter ranging from the horrible behaviour of students during our school’s singing competitions, to how our school canteen needed more volunteers. In year 12 I started writing a one page weekly newsletter for the students with study tips and jokes.

I spent every waking moment doing everything I could possibly do to be a journalist. I sought the advice of several career advisers and decided the best place to go to university was to Charles Sturt University in Bathurst. So I applied, I wrote a killer admissions piece and I gained early acceptance. I relocated to Bathurst, and while I’d like to say I busted my butt studying, this wasn’t always the case. I did, however, spend so much of my time and money interning and undertaking work experience at a variety of magazines as well as being on the staff of my student magazine. At 21, I have a degree and have been in many magazine offices.

Unfortunately none of this hard work has paid off (yet), but I still have not lost my love of writing and this is something that I deeply cherish. As Fairfax announced this week that they have cut 1900 jobs, I take heart in the fact that no matter what happens to me career wise, I will always love to write.

Have you had a moment when the light switched on? It might be to do with your career, your relationships or something else entirely? 

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