I received an email yesterday letting me know that within the coming week, I would find a very exciting, very official letter in my mailbox waiting for me. After months spent searching out references, brushing up on math questions I haven’t seen for over 10 years, and just generally biting my fingernails in anticipation, I have finally been accepted to graduate school!
I’ll be earning my way towards a Masters of Arts in English, perhaps with a writing emphasis. I love reading so much though, that I almost feel the literature track would be worth my time, as well! Luckily, I don’t have to make that decision this coming semester.
So now it’s time to brush the dust off my backpack, purchase a new college sweatshirt, and begin some summer reading to get myself prepared for a few years of study. I can’t wait! Perhaps this will lead to a Doctorate down the road. It excites me to think that I might be able to put my passion of chapters, sentences, and words into someone else. That they might be able to see the things that my imagination shows me when I open up a well-loved book cover and get that first smell of paper as I step into the page.
I want to prove that rabbit holes can be found, new worlds accessed through a forgotten wardrobe, and little boys can stay forever young – if only within the margins of a book. That these books don’t have to be put away, tucked high up on a shelf when adolescence ends, but that they redefine themselves for us as we grow with them. After all, the creators of those “children’s” stories were adults, speaking from their imagination and creating new worlds for us to explore. Youth is a state of mind, and if we truly believe in pixies, we can fly at any age.