Today, I had a 6th or 7th interview for a job. Honestly I can’t remember how many. This question I’ve now been asked twice:
“What’s your dream job? If you could do anything, what would it be?”
The first time, I was taken aback and answered how I thought I should.
“My dream job would be this one–working for this wonderful place with wonderful people!”
Today, I was honest:
“My dream job is to be a published author.”
“Oh. Do you like to write?”
“Yes, I do. As a matter of fact my dream job would be to be an author like Harper Lee and write one great book–”
“And be set for life?”
Then, she said she wrote too but doubted anyone would ever read it. “But you don’t know that!”
“Yes, that’s true. I don’t know that.”
My interview yesterday asked where I see myself in 5 years. This is also a frequent question. I told them this may not be the “appropriate” answer, but I see myself happy.
I don’t honestly believe anyone can be a writer without working. And not working at writing. I mean, working as the entire world does. You must be relatable. You must have time restrictions. You must write first for yourself and second for whomever cares to read.
I’m not looking for a “career”. I’ve had a “career”. I’m looking for a job to support my creative, strange, yet enjoyable hobby of writing.