Shortly after writing this blog post about quitting, I applied to the Columbia Publishing Course (CPC). It’s a four-week intensive course on all aspects of book publishing. I got accepted into the program at the end of April in 2021, and I was ecstatic—flutters in my chest, tears in my eyes, smile that can’t be dampened. This was it, I told myself.
At the end of June, the director emailed to say that the course was cancelled. And I was shocked. I had never considered a scenario where the course was cancelled, figuring if the course wasn’t in person that it would be held virtually. But when it was official, it felt like my career was put on pause, and I was once again floating.
The next question was whether or not I wanted to defer and hold my place for next year. As I considered this, my therapist asked me a simple question, “Does it excite you?” And yes, despite the course being delayed, I still wanted to attend. A million times I still wanted to attend. I wanted to live in Oxford and learn about publishing and explore England and read books and refine my editing skills. I wanted all of it even if the timing wasn’t what I wanted.
For my CPC application, I had to answer a variation of this question: What made you decide to pursue a career in publishing? Here was my response:
Growing up, teachers, family, and friends inevitably ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s an impossible question that shouldn’t—doesn’t—have one answer. I have been many things and will continue to be many more.
There is something, though, that has always been. I’ve always been a creative and a storyteller, an avid reader, and a fighter for the downtrodden. Those are things that don’t answer the question, “What do I want to be?” but answers the question, “Who am I?”
I became a high school English teacher because of all those things that I am: a lifelong learner, a lover of literature, a patient listener, and a detail-oriented worker. It was work that I loved in some ways, but it distracted me from what I truly wanted. I found myself asking my students the same unanswerable question that had plagued me. What do you want to be? My students never asked me this question in return. They assumed teaching was what I wanted. But it wasn’t.
This realization was hard to overcome. I returned again and again to teaching, thinking that something would click. Only in hindsight do I realize that it wasn’t supposed to click. The parts of teaching that excited me were the critiques of story structure and sentence construction, things that would make me a great editor.
While teaching and traveling and working other jobs, I wrote. Short stories and books poured out of me. It’s the stories that I always return to again and again. Whether in teaching or my work, I capture life with stories. It was around this time that I also started blogging and connecting with a community that was eager to read my thoughts and see my creative projects. I knew I had something more than a career in the classroom.
In all the in-between moments, I wrote and discovered that writing and publishing go hand in hand. An aspiration I have is to be an author. This is something that I know will happen for me. It’s one of those things that answers the question, “Who am I?” I am a writer. There is no “wanting” about it when writing sings in my blood.
I joined a writing group to improve my writing and this introduced me to the world of editing. I had taken editing classes at university and loved them, but they always seemed out of reach somehow. This was exactly in reach: editing and giving feedback to talented writers across all genres. Writers who would become my friends and encourage me to edit more; they told me I had valuable feedback. It wasn’t just the technical critiques they admired, it was my passion for boasting about their work. I was their champion above all. I continually encouraged friends to send out their stories and publish them.
In the autumn of 2019, I helped start an indie publishing house, Dandelion Revolution Press, with a focus on publishing women’s fiction. Together with my co-founders, my work as a professional editor began. My eyes were opened to a world of possibilities. It was this work that reassured me that I could do this. I could have a career in publishing, and I was more than capable. More than that, I loved it. Every part of the publishing process spoke to me.
From the detail-oriented typography to marketing and promotion, I found my calling in something that happened almost by accident. I dove headfirst and haven’t come up for air since.
I want to follow work that is exciting to me. That wakes me up and energizes me. I know this work is important, and I am ready to chase that with my heart. Stories have the power to change us no matter their format: books, articles, blog posts, audiobooks, or podcasts. They change lives, make us better people, and make us realize what we want, and what we fight for.
I am ready to fight for what I want. There is no more consideration; I’ve decided.
Identi-tea
In the the year and a half since getting initially accepted, I fell in love, made progress on my novel, moved into my own apartment, and got a job as a copyeditor for a small traditional publishing house. My life didn’t get put on pause just because my initial plan did.
When I reflect on what brought me here, it’s easy to see how ALL of this was a part of my path all along. It seems very linear when written out this way. But when you are on the journey, floundering and unable to see the destination, it’s scary. If you are on a similar path, you are not alone.
When our identities are so closely tied to our careers, it can be devastating to change. I have been teaching in some capacity since I was seventeen when I started teaching swim lessons. After I quit teaching, there was immense relief. What I didn’t expect was the grief that followed. It felt like I had lost a part of who I was. Thousands of teaching are going through the same identity crisis as they leave the classroom for their mental health (and the thousand of other reasons).
After rereading my CPC essay, I can’t help but notice that “what do you want to be?” focuses on the future, while “who am I” focuses on the present. We must broaden what defines who we are. Yes, I was a teacher and all that made me a teacher is still a part of who I am. I am patient, creative, compassionate, and enthusiastic about learning and self reflection. Just because I am changing careers, doesn’t mean I don’t have to leave everything behind. Our past has shaped who we are in the present. I am an editor and an author. I am a teacher and a blogger. I don’t have to define myself with a single job title. A single career.
Now here I am, about to embark on another adventure five years after I graduated university, four years after returning from Spain, three years after I left teaching in the classroom, and two years after I left teaching for good. I believe that things happen for a reason, and I know I was meant to attend the CPC this year. I am eternally grateful that the course will be held in person. I just don’t think it would have been the same if it was virtual.
I plan to share my experience abroad with weekly or biweekly blog posts. I hope you’ll join me for this next adventure. I declared that 2021 was the year I was leading with my heart. In 2022, I’m letting my feet take me where my heart says to go. This blog, my diary, is a footpath for others seeking a place of reflection and hope, a cozy place to reconnect and rest as we follow our creative dreams.
Happy Day-
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