The Little Girl Who Wanted to be A Writer by Robin Patchen

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who wanted to be a writer. But this little girl was very nervous and shy. She didn’t talk to adults unless she was addressed directly, and she didn’t make friends easily. And she never, ever told anybody she wanted to be a writer. But sometimes she’d sit on her bed in her blue bedroom with an open notebook and a pencil and feel compelled to write…something.

This little girl didn’t have a single teacher who told her she was a good writer. Once, she worked so hard on a term paper in English, hoping against hope her teacher would notice her immense talent and encourage her to become a writer. The teacher wrote no encouraging notes. The paper got a B+.

When it was time to apply to college, the girl chose a small business school. She’d decided she’d major in hotel/restaurant management, because that sounded like fun and something even she could do. But while pursuing the business degree, sometimes she’d sit on the bed in her doom room with an open notebook and a pencil and feel compelled to write…something.

She would have continued her business degree if not for the pesky fact that freshmen were expected to pass Calculus. The following year, she transferred to a big university, gave up her sort of dream of being a high-powered businesswoman, and admitted that she might like to be a writer.

Still, she was afraid. She was sure she had no talent. Although she entered the journalism program, she pursued not newspaper journalism (which was what she secretly wanted to do) but public relations, which paid better, and anyway, if she failed at that, she wasn’t a failure as a writer, so she felt she could live with it.

She graduated with honors, got a job working in marketing and P.R., and found herself as the businesswoman she’d once sort of a little bit wanted to be. Still, sometimes, she’d sit on her bed in the apartment she shared with her husband, take out a notebook and a pen, and feel compelled to write…something.

She and her husband moved away and started a family, and this woman gave up her job. She met Christ and spent her time raising and teaching her children, managing her household, and being involved in church. Still, sometimes, she’d sit on the bed in the house she shared with her husband, take out a notebook and pen, and feel compelled to write…something.

The woman was given a laptop for her fortieth birthday. One day, she opened that laptop, started a new document, and felt compelled to write something. Only this time, the something came.

A novel. An entire novel. An 800-page novel somehow left her fingers and landed on the screen of her new laptop.

The little girl who was too shy to tell anyone she wanted to be a writer was suddenly a writer.

And now, when she sits at her desk with her laptop, she always feels compelled to write, and the something she needs to write somehow lands on her screen.

That little girl has finally realized her dreams.

 

Robin Patchen is an award winning multi-published author, but only because she can’t pursue her other dream.

 

If time and money were no object, Robin would spend her life traveling. Her goal is to visit every place in the entire world–twice. She longs to meet everybody and see everything and spread the good news of Christ. Alas, time is short and money is scarce, and her husband and three teenagers don’t want to traipse all around the world with her, so Robin does the next best thing: she writes. In the tales she creates, she can illustrate the unending grace of God through the power and magic of story.

Find out more about Robin at her website.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s