I was a senior in high school when my class voted that a construction worker was 'more important' than a novelist
A principal was 'more important'
A banker was 'more important'
The only thing a novelist was 'more important' than was a garbage man
They voted this as Nicholas Sparks books sat on their desks
While they chatted on about seeing the new Hunger Games movie that weekend
As they begged me to let them borrow my copy of The Fault In Our Stars
They laughed when I tried to defend novelists
I was a senior in high school when I first learned that words mean nothing to some people
And this idea did not make sense to me
The words had hurt me, rebuilt me, renewed me
I was a junior in high school when I first thought about giving up all my words to a concrete road at night
I was a sophomore in high school when I first decided I wanted to become a novelist
I wanted to scream at my classmates until my words became lodged into their ears and all they could hear was the sound of my Helvetica size twelve font demaning how they could be so blind to the power that novelists have
That words have. The real kind.
Pariah!
Worthless!
Selfish!
Idiot!
Ugly!
Alone!
"Do these words mean nothing to you!?"
Love.
Beautiful.
Compassion.
Fervently.
Ardently.
Love.
I was a senior in high school when I realized that I don't want to live in a world that believes all words can do is tell a story.
I was a senior in high school when I first realized that I wanted to be the one to change that.