article article By Laura O’BrienPublished March 07, 2019 05:58:12I was told I could be an engineer, a lawyer or an entrepreneur.
I thought I was destined for it.
But now, as a professional writer and a writer in my own right, I’m starting to wonder if I am destined for anything else.
Story continues below advertisementWhen I was an undergraduate, I was told there was no such thing as a writer’s life, and that there were only three things that were valuable: a job, a house and a family.
My mother would have been so proud.
She would have told me that when she was in her 50s, I would be in the employ of the country’s most respected lawyers, who would give me a six-figure salary, and a mortgage that would pay me for the rest of my life.
It was all my mother had dreamed about for me.
My family’s financial situation was in bad shape, but I had been given an opportunity to write for free because of the work I did for the Canadian Forces in Afghanistan.
I was paid a few hundred dollars a week.
I had the freedom to work anywhere in Canada, and I could even write about the world around me.
I would write about my family and my friends, and how I had grown from a struggling young boy into a seasoned professional in a field where my future depended on it.
I became a successful writer because I believed that it was possible.
And, when I started writing, I had no idea that the next few years would be my life’s work.
My path to the world of writing has been an interesting one.
In my early years, I worked for an advertising agency.
But I was lucky enough to be offered the job of a technical writer.
This was my first foray into writing for the general public, and it took me three years to realise that writing is a profession, not a hobby.
I learned that writing was an art form.
I have a writing coach who teaches me how to write the way I want to write.
I write my own blog posts.
I read and read.
And I’m proud to be a writer.