When I started telling people how I’m thinking of going to school for creative writing, many of them said “Of course you are.”

I’m surprised at how many people recognized the writer in me before I recognized him myself. As I’m contacting former professors and professional colleagues for letters of recommendation, I’m receiving a lot of positive encouragement regarding my writing pursuit:

“I’m not surprised to hear about your interest in writing (after all, you won an award for the best journal in the Foundations of Computer Science course and consistently wrote great journals in the other courses you took with me).”

“I’m sure you’ll do well. I remember how your eyes lit up when we interviewed you and I mentioned writing skills!”

“Seriously, even when it comes to simple email messages, your writing is tactful, thorough, and engaging. You’d be a fool not to make your career in writing.”

Their comments reminded me of other compliments that I’ve received, and I began to piece together all of the signals that I’ve missed regarding my interest in writing.

I remember how when I was in college, I was attending Computer Science classes. Once all of my programming obligations were done, though, I’d spend my free time writing. I’d publish my thoughts and experiences online, on a website I hosted from my dorm room. It was fun for me, and I did it purely for recreation.

When I took the website down because I moved home during the summers, people would contact me saying they missed my writing. They wanted their daily dose, and were anxious to find out when the site would be back up. Although I was only writing for fun, people were telling me they were basically addicted to it.

I should have taken it as a sign. But I missed it.

Later, when I would channel all of my feelings into poetry or fiction stories, people would be impressed. When those who were close to me actually had an opportunity to read some of the things I’d written, they’d say “Shaun!? What are you doing in computer science? You are a writer!”

I should have taken it as a sign. But I missed it.

I remember how a girl once read the intro to one of my stories-in-progress. She asked for more, but when I explained that I wasn’t planning on continuing that story, she got mad. She glanced down at the last page, looked up at me with a face of disappointment, and then said “I think I’d actually pay to read more of this.”

I should have taken it as a sign. But I missed it.

In spite of all these obvious signals, I imagined that my writing was just “a silly hobby.” I thought that it was only a side-project, or a thing to do to pass the time. How could it possibly be anything more?

Instead of focusing on writing, I really concentrated on my computer education. They say that “hindsight is always 20/20,” and after many years in the computer industry spent working jobs that I didn’t enjoy, I looked around at the career path I had taken and wondered “What the hell happened?”

At the end of my college career, I stopped writing for a long time. I told myself how “Now it’s time to get serious. Now the fun is over, because it’s time to work.” I didn’t understand that work could be fun, if I’d only chosen a career path doing what I loved to do.

Writing is my passion. I know that now. Strangely, others seemed to know it before I did. So I’ve made some mistakes. Thankfully, it’s never too late to turn back.

In 2007, four years after college, I started this blog. I’ve tried to move it forward ever since. It’s not perfect, it’s relatively unknown, and I only consider it mildly successful — but it’s fun for me.

I like making observations about life and sharing my perspective. I understand how nobody will ever relate to every single thing that I say, but people will still read for their own reasons. And sometimes, I’ll write something that really strikes a chord with someone, who knows exactly what I’m talking about. They’ll contact me, tell me their story, and thank me. Hearing from people that become inspired by my blog makes it all worthwhile. It encourages me to keep writing.

Now, after four years of blogging, I’m trying to take my writing to the next level. I’m trying to get a formal writing education and Master’s Degree. There’s a chance I won’t be accepted into the creative writing workshop, and that fear of failure terrifies me.

That said, it’s impossible to deny who I am. I am a writer. I write because I must. To not write is suicide. It’s difficult to express, but really everything that I do gets tucked away in my brain like it’s being “saved for later.” All of my experiences can be used to illustrate an idea, describe a point I’m trying to make, or even inspire a fiction story.

It’s like there’s a tiny, unsatisfied writer in my head who is watching the world through my eyes. Whenever something interesting happens, he won’t shut up about how “This would make a great story!” Furthermore, he won’t let me sleep or relax until I’ve written something down for the day. He’s a determined little pest.

It all boils down to this: People really are “made” for things. Creative types need to create. For me, it’s writing stories. For others, it’s writing music. Similarly, some people need to build homes, or design buildings. Some people need to take cars apart, and then put them back together. Some people need to paint. My point is, there’s something in this world that we are constantly drawn to, because we are made for it.

How you spend your time defines who you are. Your interests are your passions, and your life’s passion is the one thing that simply won’t go away.

It’s what keeps rearing its head when you ignore it. It’s what you think about doing when you’re busy doing other things. It’s what keeps you up at night.

It’s what you are. And it’s impossible to deny who you are.

You may be able to set it aside for a few years to focus on other priorities — but your true calling is always in the back of your mind, waiting for its turn to take the reins. Once it finally does, you’ll feel a bit foolish. You’ll realize “Oh yes, of course. Of course! This is what I love to do! This is what I should be doing! Why didn’t I start doing this sooner?”

I don’t know why I didn’t start sooner. It’s probably a combination of having too much pride, not wanting to admit that I made a mistake, and the fear of having to start over again. All this considered, I’m excited to really embrace who I am.

I am a writer. What are you?

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