When I started seriously writing back in my teens, I could’ve never imagined the road it would take me down. When I defined myself as a writer way back when, I imagined an easy life in a cozy chair with a pipe hanging from my mouth.
That’s right. I thought I’d end up as an academic. It was my impression that unless you made it big as a novelist that’s the only thing you could do with writing. And I thought it would be an easy road.