When I first showed up for college and the helpful folks asked what my major would be I answered, "Marine biology." I hadn't thought about it at all but it came to mind right then. I had watched Sea Hunt as a boy and I sure loved the beach. By the time I had flunked a couple of classes I realized that I wasn't cut out for marine biology.
Well, when I decided that I would be a writer I hadn't really given it much thought. I suppose that I pictured myself well compensated and respected. Of course the rock'n'roll would assure the social side of things, if you get my drift. Girls like rock'n'roll musicians, right?
Nobody told me about the loneliness and the solitude. Without hits there is no demand for your work. That leaves a fellow questioning his abilities, his work, his worth.
Up to this point I haven't really put away the money or the respect. I suppose the hits could still be coming. What time is it now? I'll bet that I would have fared no better in the romance department if I had stuck with marine biology.
I hate to sink to cliches but I would do the same thing again. Love hard.
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