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It Means Too Much
People always say that writing is an art, and that is so true. But so is reading. You have to know what to look for and when to gasp. You have to know when the author is misleading you or foreshadowing. A good reader doesn’t just see what the author intends for you to see, but also what the author didn’t even realize he or she was including.
That’s what makes a good reader- being able to look past the author’s mind and into his or her mind.
And that’s what makes a good author- allowing the reader into his or her own soul.
I’ve heard my entire life how hard it is to become an author, let alone a good one. How even if you get the dedication and motivation to sit down and write a book, then you have to go through the stress and struggle to get it published. And that can not only be extremely difficult, but also extremely painful.
But you know what?
I don’t care.
I will do whatever it takes to get published.
I will write for hours.
I will send my stuff to hundreds of publishers.
I will never quit.
I will never give up on my dream.
It means too much to me.
When I was in second grade, I thought about how cool it would be to be an author. In fourth grade, I actually tried to write a book. I wrote every night for about a week, and it was awful. The idea was surprisingly good, but my writing was terrible.
I never really decided that I want to be an author until middle school. I don’t remember the moment it hit me, because it never really did. It was more of a gradual transition between wildlife photographer to author, but once I made the decision, I knew that was what I wanted to do.
It is still what I want to do with my life.
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