When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a marine biologist. I collected shells, I labeled them, kept them filed, read every book about the ocean I could get my hands on... While other girls were laced up in toe shoes and learning ballet, I was knee deep in stagnant water trying to catch bull frog tadpoles. All of this has led to a plethora of unusual information that pops out at parties sometimes.
"Speaking of beach vacations, did you know that ambergris, one of the most sought after substances in the world, is actually semi-digested Giant Squid excreted by a Sperm Whale?"
"..."
I did mention being socially awkward, did I not?
Aside from spouting off sea facts after a few drinks, all of that marine-obsession did not lead to a degree in Marine Sciences. I got into biology in high school, couldn't bear dissecting a fetal pig, and that spelled the end of my ambitions.
Fortunately, about that time, I realized that I could write a pretty decent story. And that I was kind of funny. Since I was far too much of a realist to consider making a decent living as a comic, I poured all that unrequited science love into my English classes (evidently still enough of an idealist to believe that I could, in fact, make a living writing bestsellers). No pigs to dissect, only the works of (mostly dead) authors. Easy peasy. I liked it. A lot.
I still do. I was reminded of this today after getting some freelance work from one of my favorite clients.
"Speaking of beach vacations, did you know that ambergris, one of the most sought after substances in the world, is actually semi-digested Giant Squid excreted by a Sperm Whale?"
"..."
I did mention being socially awkward, did I not?
Aside from spouting off sea facts after a few drinks, all of that marine-obsession did not lead to a degree in Marine Sciences. I got into biology in high school, couldn't bear dissecting a fetal pig, and that spelled the end of my ambitions.
Fortunately, about that time, I realized that I could write a pretty decent story. And that I was kind of funny. Since I was far too much of a realist to consider making a decent living as a comic, I poured all that unrequited science love into my English classes (evidently still enough of an idealist to believe that I could, in fact, make a living writing bestsellers). No pigs to dissect, only the works of (mostly dead) authors. Easy peasy. I liked it. A lot.
I still do. I was reminded of this today after getting some freelance work from one of my favorite clients.
I mean, yeah, I'm not in the running for any Pulitzers with this work, but damn it's fun. Trust me, if someone had told me when I was seven that I could stay that age forever and get paid for it, my career path would have been diverted years ago. I remember when I interviewed for them, they asked me if I was familiar with SpongeBob SquarePants. I immediately and unabashedly launched into the theme song, complete with the pirate accent.
I love what I do. Isn't that the luckiest thing in the world?
