When I was in elementary school, I wanted to be a “scientist.” Sort of. I mean, I considered myself first a writer and have been writing as long as I can remember. But as a “scientist,” I planned to seek out and dig up dinosaurs. Dinosaurs trump whatever comes with being an author.
Then one day in the cafeteria, a kid told me that by the time I grew up and became a “scientist,” someone else — or scores of someone elses — would have already discovered all the dinosaurs. I stopped dead in my tracks. This suggestion seemed plausible, if not irrefutable. Certainly, no dinosaurs would remain for me to dig up. And so I abandoned my dreams of pursuing “science” as a profession.
Twenty-five years later, I am a professional writer working in the software industry. I ended up here the way most technical writers do: by accident. But now that dinosaurs are out of the picture, it’s not a bad backup gig.