Apparently an interviewer once asked Flannery O’Connor why she wrote, and she said, “Because I am good at it.” Embarrassingly enough, I first started writing, or started to think of myself as someone who wanted to write, simply because I was praised by my teachers for writing. And I really liked to read. And writing was prized in my family, which included lovers of literature and professionals who did some sort of writing. My mother had been a children’s librarian, and my siblings and I all read quite a bit from our early years. But mostly I wanted to do something I was good at. My parents once received a written comment from my high school gym teacher that read: “Debra lacks speed, strength, skill, and coordination, but she tries hard.” What sort of dope would try hard given that? Teachers suggested writing was something I could do. My family made it clear writing was valuable. So I dove in. Emotionally, and in the long run, writing has proven to be a struggle–the limits of my talents and imagination coming up against my ambition and the vagaries of the marketplace. I sometimes think of The Peter Principle, a book that argues that people rise to their level of incompetence and work there. Perhaps so, since fiction writing is such a struggle for me, and yet I cannot imagine doing anything else.

www.debraspark.com​