Dreams Gone Wrong

As of December 1, 2012, I had my application completed and sent in. There was an example of my writing, two awesome recommendations, a shed filled out by my guidance counselor, paperwork to prove I live in South Carolina, and a recent picture of me. I had everything I needed. I even had it in by early admission so I didn’t have to pay a fee of $50.

South Carolina Governor’s School for the Arts and Humanities knew all about me and the writer I am. From then until January 6, I was stressing out, waiting for everyone else to get their applications in. Finally, the day came around. I was both calmer and more relaxed than I’d been for the last month. Admittedly, the week beforehand was the worst.

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That afternoon, when I got home, there was a letter in the mail from the Governor’s School. As I was reading the first paragraph, Mom pointed to the second paragraph. Skipping to it, I read, “Unfortunately, we will not be offering you an opportunity to audition and interview. Please understand, this is more a result of he highly competitive nature of our selection process, and not a reflection on your developing talents as a creative writer.” Inside, I died.

Since I heard about the Governor’s School in eighth grade, I’ve wanted to go there. Not even having he chance to interview killed me. But I couldn’t let my family know how it destroyed me not being able to got here. I don’t hate them for not accepting me. Actually, I can see a good side of this situation. Because of this, one of my New Years resolutions is to finish writing a boo by the end of the year.

I’m going to write a chapter a week so I can have it finished by June. His way, I can hopefully have it published by the end of the year. This will prove to people all around the world that you don’t have to have the vest opportunities or go to the best schools to become an author. It also proves than age doesn’t affect how we’ll of a writer you are or if you can follow your dreams or not. After all, I’ve known I’m going to be an author since kindergarten, which means I’ve had the same dream for 11 years.