I am not a writer. This is something that I’ve decided. Actually, I lied. This is something that was gently pounded into my soul and brain by one professor in college. He declared it to the class as a backhanded compliment – “Nicki can not write, but she understands what the author is saying…” there is more to that story, but why dwell on the past. His words were harsh, but more to the point, they were only half true.
I was an English major; bogged down by papers dedicated to subjects that only half interested me. I cannot and do not write papers, well. I run out of words, I run out of thoughts, I run out of interest! 20 pages about anything is too much, so I suppose, I’m not an essayist. I’ve decided that I will be a columnist. I will jump back into my journalism roots and find the short and sweet words to comment on what is going on that exact moment. Professor T beware; I’m going to challenge your idea of who you thought I was and prove that I may not be able to keep up with you in the classroom, but when was the last time someone needed to read an essay on The Tempest? Challenge taken. – NGB 1/9/12
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