When I was a kid, my dream was to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader (they were classier then). I remember wanting that so bad. I took dance classes at Texie Waterman’s—the choreographer for the cheerleaders. When I had my Saturday morning ballet class, I remember seeing them coming and going. Or maybe that’s just a pretend memory (the kind that you wish you had, but I swear I remember that). I had the pom-poms and everything. I was so cool.
Several years later, I discovered Indiana Jones and then I wanted to be an archaeologist. Or at least his girlfriend. Who didn’t? He was hot. I think the thing about Indy was he knew what he wanted and he would go after it, no matter the cost. He was part alpha male, part beta. Brainy and sexy. Globetrotting. Swashbuckling. That was so cool! I wanted to do that when I grew up!
And then I discovered I would have to dig in the dirt and it wasn’t as glamorous as Indiana Jones. I’m not a fan of having dirt under my fingernails so that was a no. I don’t like the sun or the heat. Another strike against it.
About the time I hit junior high, I thought I wanted to be an Egyptologist. I’d read Robin Cook’s Sphinx and thought it would be cool to study Egyptian stuff. But again, wandering around in dusty museums and the desert just didn’t appeal to me.
Another part of my life was a love of Star Wars and Star Trek. I played the role-playing game (shut up I know I’m a nerd) and really wanted to be a pilot. Or so I thought. This was by the time I hit high school and I took this aerospace/aviation class. I was the only sophomore in the class and I royally sucked at it. Mostly because I hated math and science. Algebra wasn’t my best subject. I didn’t know any trig. WTF was I doing in this class? I pretty much flunked it (along with Chemistry) and decided piloting wasn’t for me. Neither was being an astronaut.
Now I’m in high school, still taking dance classes and still trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I didn’t want to be a ballerina which is strange because I spent nearly sixteen years of my life on the stage. Nor did I want to act. Which is also strange because I was perfectly comfortable on a stage. Looking back, I sort of wish I’d pursued the acting thing. Alas, I did not.
Anyway, during my high school years I took business classes. Typing, shorthand, etc. Yes, they still offered shorthand when I was in school and I was good at it. I could take shorthand at about 60 words a minute. I could transcribe at 80 words a minute. I rocked the typing class.
I thought about joining the Navy (OMG I would so die in boot camp), thought about going to school to be a teacher, a court reporter, a legal assistant. Instead I went to work and frittered away my twenties in bars with my friends and playing MajorMUD (if you don’t know, you can look it up here).
Somewhere along the way in high school, I’d started penning stories. Long ones. Short ones. Romantic ones. Science fiction ones. Adventure ones. Most of it included fanfiction. I didn’t know if it was good or bad. I didn’t care. I just did it because it was fun and I liked it.
Nearing thirty, I committed myself to writing. This is what I wanted to be when I grew up. Because, I reasoned, I could be all those things I thought I wanted to be but with a bonus—I’d never have to go to school or leave my chair. I could be a princess, a faery, a queen, an angel, a hero, an archeologist, a pilot. I could be anything and everything. I could go back in time. I could go to the future. I could live in space. I could live in a grass hut.
I’m still finding my way in the writing world but at least I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. I think. ;)
Michelle Miles write contemporary, paranormal and fantasy romance and would like to be a princess when she grows up, despite what this post says. To find out more about her books, visit her website. You can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter.