Walking on the riverside trail near where I live, I passed three boys, grade 5 or 6. Didn’t recognise them, but said, as you do in a small town, “Hi, guys.”
One suspicious glance.
One mumbled: “Hi.”
Then, from behind me: “Hey. You’re the author!”
Three grinning, waving kids, who must have been in a class I’d visited recently. (Had to have been recent for the visit not to be forgotten.)
That started me thinking about the perks of writing.
Came up with …
- A bit of travel … Writing has taken me all over New Brunswick, as well as to Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Quebec, Newfoundland, Nunavut, Ontario, and Addis Ababa and Debra Zeit in Ethiopia.
- Being able to work at your own pace – and in peace and solitude. (I say this after happily spending a big chunk of my working life in the frenzied and crowded and noisy environment of school.)
- Being able to set your own deadlines, although one consequence of this is that I tend to be stricter with myself over meeting them than I used to be dealing with externally imposed deadlines. (You can always come up with an excuse for not meeting someone else’s deadline, but you can’t lie to yourself.)
- Being greeted at school doors by students when you arrive to do your writers in the schools thing. (My favourite greeting: The student welcoming committee at a Toronto elementary school with a banner strung across the classroom window behind them: Welcome Mr. Robert.)
What am I forgetting?