I’ve spent the last few days talking to college students in Norman, Tulsa, and Stillwater about their futures.  Some were confident – they know exactly what they want to do with the rest of their lives. Some had that deer-in-the-headlights expression on their faces. They don’t know. They just don’t know.  The party’s nearly over and they’re scared witless.

As I spoke to them I realized I’ve always known what I wanted to do – write. Regardless of the job I took to pay the bills, I wanted to write and did. And when I landed my dream job, as a campaign manager and Field Representative for a California State Assemblyman,  I was in heaven. I wrote every day, not fiction, but press releases and all his Op Ed pieces.  It didn’t matter, because I was writing.

I’ve lived in many different parts of the country – Ft. Smith, St. Louis, Southern California, now Northeastern Oklahoma. Everywhere I live, no matter what job I hold down to make ends meet, I still write.

In 5th grade I discovered I had the talent to entertain people with a story. I got infected the disease – Writeritous – and there is no cure.

So to borrow from Susan, I’m terminally curious.  When did you know you wanted to be a writer? Have you recently been infected or have you always had the “bug”?