I fell into one of the blessings in my life, journalism, by accident six years ago. It happened nine months after high school, a period in which I did nothing but dance, write, co-edit a special edition of a poetry zine, attend readings and other randomly boho things of little satisfaction to the many wing-clippers around me, one of whom took me to several university fairs. Nothing came out of the fairs themselves; I would make a decision about college a few months later, motivated by entirely different developments. But it so happened that there was a booth at one of them run by the youth supplement of a national newspaper. The office was near my house, it would give me a great opportunity to get out of the house most frequently, and oh, I could write. So I joined them. One thing led to another and before I knew it, although I would carry on with some academic vocation or another, college slowly became redundant.
Today, under similarly serendipitious circumstances, I joined an ad agency as a copywriter. I hadn’t wanted the job even when I agreed to meet with them. But something made me go, and something made me decide to do it.
I looked up “copywriting” on the net for kicks. Was surprised and glad to see that I join enviable ranks. All of these fine writers were one-time copywriters too: Salman Rushdie, Peter Carey, Ogden Nash, Indra Sinha, Fay Weldon, Don DeLillo, Joseph Heller and F. Scott Fitzgerald. There’s some trivia for today. :)