Gabrielle Drolet in The Walrus:
I got the offer to do Horse News not long after I moved to Montreal, at a time when I needed work more than ever.
I was twenty-four and a full-time adult now, tasked with the question of how I planned to fill my time and make a living.
A year and a half earlier, when I’d finished my undergraduate studies in English and creative writing, I had immediately enrolled in another creative writing program. I wish I could say this was entirely because I was devoted to my craft or that it was my life’s dream to write a book, but that’s only a small part of the truth. The main reason I joined a master’s program was that I didn’t want to face what life would look like once I was no longer a student.
As I’d gotten closer to finishing my undergrad, I kept getting asked what came next. For years, the question “What are you going to do when you grow up?” had been answered the same way: I’m going to be a writer. This was an answer that adults found cute when I was a child and concerning as I got older. A writer, they echoed, mulling the word over slowly. Interesting. By the time I got to university, it was an answer that felt downright unacceptable. Sharing dreams about writing for a living elicited looks of mingled confusion and pity. A writer?
More here.
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