I’ll just be the best literary agent with a degree in science!
I talked to my dad last night. We sat out on the lawn in the evening; I was about to do a test ride up to my place of employment-my steering is off, somehow-but he distracted me until just a few minutes after I had planned to leave. I can’t blame him. He is extremely doubtful of my future, since the events of the past few months. Anyway, dad needed a serious reality check when it came to my aspirations; no more high powered environmental lawyer was I, much less cancer-curing researcher. I don’t remember how exactly it came up, I was paying attention to the grass, but he asked me and I told him the only thing that I could wake up eager every morning to do- reading queries, accepting submissions, going over revisions, and the great pitch to the publishers. OMGZ OMGZ I could totally do that for the rest of my life, make no money at all, and be the most fulfilled individual since my mom and dad!!!!!
Dad always tells me the same story. At age thirteen he entered the family business, working for his dad. Never questioned anything, just showed up every day after school, and when he graduated from Neshaminy, every day, all day. And then thirty years slipped by from the day he entered the business as an adult, and he still leaves at 6 AM every morning in his Big Red Pickup. He always tells us how many sick days he has taken- three. One of them was fairly recent, and I am sure he regretted the statistic of one every ten years vs. one every fifteen. Dad told me how he never shows anyone his shop, his friends know nothing about his occupation, yet he is proud to come home dirty every evening while everyone else in the community comes home in a suit and tie.
So how does this relate to me?!?!?!? I always thought, knowing full well that everything he said was right. “Find something you love to do, and you’ll never work another day in your life.” “Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime.” My dad’s dual-mottos.
What made last night so groundbreaking was that instead of tearing apart my humble dream, my dad seemed to go along with it! “I know someone at Simon and Schuster,” he said. “I can ask them what’s involved, and maybe about getting an internship.” Dad has truly reached his breaking point.
But one thing we eventually realized. I said, “I’m not majoring in English Lit or Communications. I mean, I like science…” And I didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe I was too comfortable in science already. Maybe I was afraid an English major would kill my love of literature. Maybe I can equally love cells and ecosystems and the foundation of biology that is the theory of evolution. And I would rather the second love be destroyed.
So, at least while sitting on a chair in the grass and looking out over the woods, Dad listened to me. Dad, thank you for understanding.
He always asks me if I am writing about him in my journal. Hehe.