Years ago, in my carefree but highly unfocused youth, I took one of those tests designed to pinpoint a person’s perfect career.
It pinpointed my perfect career as being a dentist in the Navy.
Don’t get me wrong. I have only the highest admiration for the brave men and women who serve in every branch of the military, and I greatly respect those equally accomplished men and women who study for years until they’ve acquired the skill to keep our mouths in tiptop condition. But since I get motion sick from just thinking of bobbing around on a ship and since the mere prospect of looking at an infected tooth, let alone actually ripping it out of someone’s head, both leave me feeling seriously queasy, I figured the test results were a little less than accurate.
So I ignored them and decided to become a writer instead.
I know…saying you’re a writer is like saying you breathe. Everybody is a writer, or once was, or plans to be, someday.
But unlike some of those someday writers, who somehow never get around to putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, I actually had the good fortune of doing it via research reports, several short stories and now (cue the triumphal music) a book that’s just been contracted for digital release by The Wild Rose Press, a publisher of romance fiction.
More on that soon.
For purposes of this post, my only point is that I made the right decision. By following my heart instead of some test results, I not only remained a happier person, I also kept both the U.S. Navy and an unknown number of innocent toothache sufferers safer and healthier by staying as far away from them as possible.
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