Since I was in middle school, I’ve wanted to be a published author. What person doesn’t, as a child, dream of creating something that changes lives? It didn’t matter
how I changed lives; I wanted to elicit the kinds of reactions I had to my favorite books and shows. I wanted to devastate people. I wanted to make them really
feel something. I took writing classes in middle school, wrote like mad in high school, posted my work in online forums, exchanged rough drafts with friends in hopes of satiating my need for an audience. When I got to college in 2012, I was fairly certain I was on the right path. I knew what I wanted to do, I’d practiced, and all I needed was the degree. But in my first-ever college writing class, I was asked a question that changed my entire outlook on writing...