Writing in the Real World

It’s taken a year of processing everything that went down during Invictus, but I’ve finally realized just how unique and valuable the experience was. I often underestimate the power of time, and I’m continually amazed about how my perspective continues to change with each passing day.

How did I come to this realization?

In December 2013, I graduated a semester early from Ball State University. Two weeks later I accepted a job as Communications Specialist for Edina Public Schools. One day after New Year’s and my boyfriend and I packed our bags and moved to Minneapolis, Minn. And finally, three days after we moved in, he proposed.

They say after college, life moves fast. But for me, it’s moved at lightning speed. Gone are the days where I can spend hours dedicated to personal writing. Gone is the presence of a writing group. Gone. Gone. Gone. I would give anything to have some of that back. I’m sure, once I am fully settled, I will get plugged in somewhere, but for now, this is my reality.

Last week, a coworker stopped by my desk. She’d stumbled across my website and was inspired by my work. “You wrote a memoir in college? That’s crazy! I am 35 and I haven’t even put my thoughts for a book on paper…” she said.

And then it hit me: Invictus is probably one of the best things that happened to me in college. Was it painful? Absolutely. Did it give me flashbacks? You betcha. Was I scared to put it all out there? More than a frightened kitten. But I did it. WE did it. But we Invictus grads are only able to say this because one professor cared enough about our journey as a writer to get into the dirt with us. Thank you, Brad King. Thank you for calling out our vices, pushing us to write better and continuously reminding us that we are a team.

For me, Invictus is only the beginning. I will keep writing, and hopefully one day publish the books I’ve been working on since. My motivation rises from the memories I’ve kept of the Invictus class experience, which taught me that impossible is nothing—even in the real, “busy” world.