I was recently surprised to learn that my younger sister started a career as a writer. My oldest younger sister, that is, if that makes sense – I have several of them, and sometimes it’s hard to clarify which one I mean.
In any case, it’s sort of a strange feeling. I’m thrilled that she decided to pursue it. After all, writing sort of runs in the family. I got my start because my mother taught me to write. Personally, I think she did an excellent job of it. She’s published poetry in books and has written for newspapers in the past, but she’s never gotten around to the next great American novel.
My father has expressed interest in writing, though he’s never really sat down to actually do it, and my younger brothers seem to take an interest as well. I’m not sure if my two youngest sisters will write, but they’re still early in their lives, and there’s time for them to cross that bridge when they come to it.
In reflection, it’s very interesting to see the way all of us differ in our literary interests. The stories my sister is writing couldn’t be more different from what I write, but that’s a good thing. Each of us has established a definite flavor to our creative pursuits, even though we seem to share them.
For me, it’s especially interesting to have been a sort of pioneer in the field, being the first to complete and publish a book. I know how difficult it can be and I know the challenges she’ll face, so all I can do is wish my sister the absolute best, and be there to help her make the most out of this new stage of life.
I wonder which of my siblings will be next?