About Me
I had recently moved to a state where I didn't know anyone when one of my husband's new colleagues asked me the inevitable question, "And what do you do?"
I could have said "I'm a mom," or "I used to be a teacher," or "Too much Facebook and not enough laundry," but something stopped me.
"Well..." I began. The other woman sensed my hesitation and laughed. "You don't know?" She teased me.
"No, it's just..." I gulped. "I'm trying out a new word."
"Ohhh," she nodded. She seemed like the kind of person who could appreciate the importance of such a moment. Her eyebrows went up as she waited for me to spit it out.
"I'm... I'm working on being able to say that I'm a writer," I finally exhaled. Then I stood there blinking. I had done it. By that point, I had been blogging for years, so I had written quite a few words, but I'd never called myself a writer. But there on the sidewalk outside my husband's office, I took an identity I'd always wanted and just--pinned it on.
Shortly after that encounter, I worked up the courage to tiptoe further into the writing world: to enroll in an MFA program, to send out some pieces for publication, to work (and work and work and work and work) on a book I'd long wanted to write. But I think the moment I really became a writer was in that conversation on the sidewalk. That moment I took a word that was out there in the world and claimed it as my own.
I think words are pretty important. The words we use for ourselves. The words we use for others. The words we use for God. And so, I'm a writer: because I think taking the time to find just the right word is time well-spent. Because words are powerful. Because I want to understand who I am, and what my place is in this universe.
Here's some more biographical information about me:
Sarah Sanderson writes and speaks about faith, mental illness, abuse recovery, parenting, and everyday life. She holds an English and Philosophy degree from Wheaton College, IL, a Master in Teaching degree from Seattle University, and (as of August 2018) a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from Seattle Pacific University. Sarah and her husband, Jeremy, parent their four children in a suburb of Portland, Oregon, where Jeremy pastors Oak Hills Church. She is on a lifelong quest to achieve two things: the perfect sunny powder ski day, and an error-free Sunday New York Times crossword (in pen). That second goal is harder, but considerably cheaper, than the first.
I could have said "I'm a mom," or "I used to be a teacher," or "Too much Facebook and not enough laundry," but something stopped me.
"Well..." I began. The other woman sensed my hesitation and laughed. "You don't know?" She teased me.
"No, it's just..." I gulped. "I'm trying out a new word."
"Ohhh," she nodded. She seemed like the kind of person who could appreciate the importance of such a moment. Her eyebrows went up as she waited for me to spit it out.
"I'm... I'm working on being able to say that I'm a writer," I finally exhaled. Then I stood there blinking. I had done it. By that point, I had been blogging for years, so I had written quite a few words, but I'd never called myself a writer. But there on the sidewalk outside my husband's office, I took an identity I'd always wanted and just--pinned it on.
Shortly after that encounter, I worked up the courage to tiptoe further into the writing world: to enroll in an MFA program, to send out some pieces for publication, to work (and work and work and work and work) on a book I'd long wanted to write. But I think the moment I really became a writer was in that conversation on the sidewalk. That moment I took a word that was out there in the world and claimed it as my own.
I think words are pretty important. The words we use for ourselves. The words we use for others. The words we use for God. And so, I'm a writer: because I think taking the time to find just the right word is time well-spent. Because words are powerful. Because I want to understand who I am, and what my place is in this universe.
Here's some more biographical information about me:
Sarah Sanderson writes and speaks about faith, mental illness, abuse recovery, parenting, and everyday life. She holds an English and Philosophy degree from Wheaton College, IL, a Master in Teaching degree from Seattle University, and (as of August 2018) a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from Seattle Pacific University. Sarah and her husband, Jeremy, parent their four children in a suburb of Portland, Oregon, where Jeremy pastors Oak Hills Church. She is on a lifelong quest to achieve two things: the perfect sunny powder ski day, and an error-free Sunday New York Times crossword (in pen). That second goal is harder, but considerably cheaper, than the first.