It’s been a while, and I’ve gotten rusty, and I feel guilty about neglecting this little space so I felt it was time for some re-introductions!
So, hello! My name is Ana. I teach English Literature at the most magical little high school in Texas (that’s a fact). It’s the best. I have always loved stories and writing and have dreamed for a long time of becoming a published author. I have an undergraduate degree in business management (which is a long story), and in just a few days I will fulfill a long-time dream as I begin my graduate career in Creative Writing! I’m nervous, of course. While I’ve been writing stories pretty much since I could write, I’ve never taken a creative writing course in my life, and up until that university acceptance letter (which doesn’t really feel like it counts, honestly), I had never gotten any formal feedback for my work. Still, words can’t describe how happy I am to be starting this journey. Six-year-old Ana is heaving a big sigh of relief. Finally, she says, We’re doing the thing.
And, of course, the thing is writing. Writing for fun, writing because it thrills my heart, writing because it helps me make sense of the world I live in. But this feels like the inciting incident in my journey to becoming a legit author. You know?
I also love school. I always have and I think I always will. I love new notebooks and well-crafted pens. I love textbooks and reading and note-taking. I love listening to professors – listening to their stories, their experienced perspectives, and their take on their content matter. I loved it as an undergrad studying business. I can’t imagine how great it will be studying literature and writing. If I could, I’d do like Buster and just go to school forever (Arrested Development reference, my apologies). But alas, ain’t nobody got the time (read: funds) for that.
I’ll be turning twenty-six in just over a week. Typically, I love birthdays. They are a sense of grace to me, always a time of reflection, starting over, and feeling very, very alive for a few weeks. I’m feeling a bit unenthusiastic about this next birthday, however, because for some reason I’ve spent the last year thinking I was already twenty-six. I feel like I missed twenty-five and now twenty-six is here for real – which, really, is not true at all. Twenty-five very much happened and it was a deep and magical and rough and wild year. It was good. “A rose by any other name…”, right? Yeah, twenty-five happened, and maybe I called it twenty-six a whole bunch of times, but it happened and I was there for it, and it was good.
I am the oldest of five daughters and my sisters to me are the most precious, most interesting, most beautiful humans to have ever walked the planet. I love my parents more than anything. My relationship with them is probably the one I’ve worked on the longest and hardest and I am terrified of the day they’re no longer here.
I have a boyfriend named Aaron who is the kindest, good-est person I’ve met in my entire life. I used to hear people say things like that and always thought it was so sweet but I think I’ve met the one who really is all the good things. He really is.
I am a romantic who has for seasons preferred to live inside the beautiful epics and dramas of her imagination rather than look reality in the face and do the work to make it beautiful. But I am learning to love both – to not neglect one or the other. I am learning to care for and nurture my mind that can dream up so many wonderful things. And I am learning to be brave and live with my eyes wide open, and to coax my little hands to do the work to make dreamt-up beauty a reality.
I am excited about this new season. After all, it really does feel, in the words of Mr. Fitzgerald, as if “life starts over again” in the fall. And I can’t wait to write it all down.
If you read this far, thank you. I really can’t say how grateful I am. Also, will you tell me a little bit about you? You can write me in the comments or to firstname.lastname@example.org.