In the Face of Rejection, Finding My Voice

Writing is hard. I understand this could sound a little strange coming from someone who writes often, passionately, and is currently studying to do it for the rest of her life. But it's true. Writing is hard, especially creative writing. It's more than just stringing words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into stories. There's a beating heart to it, a life force to the words that cannot be taught, but rather, has to be grown. They call that force your voice--

--and the truth is, I don't really have one.

This, too, might sound strange. I've been writing pretty seriously since the ninth grade, when I dropped the idea of becoming a physicist (which was all well and good until I realized how much calculus I'd have to study) and decided instead I wanted to be a writer. I'm still going at it. I'm a creative writing major in a fantastic English department and I'm so excited to keep learning. But the thing is, the whole time I've been writing, I realize I've been focusing on a lot of the wrong things.

After a long time coming, I finally queried that book I wrote--the one written in every free nook and cranny of my busy high school schedule--to agents. And every single one of them rejected it. Now, I'm not really a stranger to rejection. I have a folder of letters of rejection from various things, mostly art programs and one university. I wasn't expecting anything different from agents. But this time around hurt far more than those, because telling stories was something my peers and teachers and even universities told me I was good at. All those letters told me otherwise.

The letters were painful to read the first time, and when something possessed me to read them all again, I thought I'd made a horrible mistake. My motivation was shattered. How could I keep going if my writing had so many problems? If I had no unique voice and no power to pull readers in? What kind of writer was I if I couldn't breathe life into my stories? All this time, I had been so concerned with technicalities, that I paid no attention to cultivating those very vital skills.

But reading those letters was the opposite of a mistake. There's a little fire burning within me, and with every challenge I meet, its flames climb higher and higher. For every "I wish you could do this", and "you need to be able to do this" I read, I told myself, "Okay. I can learn how to do that. I can grow."

I recently tweeted, "I'm starting a new book and it's gonna be the best thing I've ever written and my heart is so happy". I'm not messing around when I say that. What I have is more than just an idea--it's a full-fledged story, running through my brain, desperate to push past my fingers and be told. It won't be an easy process. I'm a busy college student, with papers to write and research to conduct and a community to serve. But when I wrote "CHAPTER ONE" at the top of a brand new document last week, I took the first step of a journey. I don't know how long it will take, but I am disciplined, determined, and unbelievably excited.

So here's to the journey. Here's to finding my voice.

Erin Christopher
Florida State University

Trails to Blaze: A Message to the Tates Creek High School Class of 2016

I would like to preface this post with a little note: I had originally intended to write and publish a post BEFORE graduation, but at the point it was very hard for me to find the right words. Now, after graduating, I have found them.

Trails to Blaze: A Message to the Tates Creek High School Class of 2016

This time yesterday, even though the formality of my last day of high school had passed, I was still a high school student. I woke up giddy, the happiest I’d been in weeks—the sun was shining, it was warm outside, and that night at 7 p.m., I was going to graduate high school. Four years of my life were about to become sealed in the past by the simple turn of a tassel.

                My graduation is over. I am no longer a student at Tates Creek High School, but an alum. And at this moment, I am caught in a complicated swirl of emotions, emotions I am sure many of my now-former classmates share.

 I am overwhelmed by both what is behind me and what lies ahead.

In taking this huge step forward, we are leaving behind our familiar classes, sports teams, and clubs, not to mention the friends we gained from them. We are scattering across the state and across the country, where we’ll fill our lives with new people and new experiences. As of today, the past four years are now nothing more than a memory, and all that lies ahead of us is a very uncertain future.

                But, it’s a future I believe we can navigate, even if we don’t know quite where we’re headed, even if we veer off the path from time to time. From the get-go, I knew there was something exceptional about the Class of 2016. We are made up of accomplished athletes, scholars, and artists. We have powered through one of the most competitive college application seasons to date, earning acceptances and scholarships left and right. We are a class of people who are both dreamers and doers, ready to chase what they want without question. High school was not always easy—for many, it never was—and yet we pushed through because we believed in the promise of the future. That future begins today.

                This is a thank-you, both to those I know and those I do not. Last night, we were part of something truly special. For me, the best moment of the whole night was right after we’d left the arena, when we were shouting and cheering and throwing our arms around each other because we did it. I’ve never felt a space filled with so much joy.

                Today is a day for both celebration and mourning. We celebrate our accomplishments, our memories, our friendships. We mourn the friendships that could’ve been but never were, and the things we could’ve done but never found the time. But I encourage us all to find contentment in these past four years. Life does not always work out the way we want it to—we are all moving forward, with no idea what the next day will bring. I believe if we focus on the good in our memories of high school, we’ll be able to ride that positive momentum into the next chapter of our lives.

                Tates Creek Class of 2016, we have trails to blaze. We will be leaders, inventors, entrepreneurs, creators, and winners, all in our own right. We will come to write our own definitions of success, and then we will match them. I have unwavering faith in us all. I am honored to be a part of such an exceptional class of students, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for all of us.

Erin Christopher
Tates Creek High School Class of 2016
Florida State University Class of 2020