You Do WHAT Now?
It all begins with an idea.
Aside from writing and editing, my secret dream job for most of my life was to be an advice columnist. I devoured Dear Abby, and long before she was in the headlines over the last few years, one of the joys of my life was hearing back from E. Jean when I wrote into Elle.
So what qualifies me to give you advice?
Is it my degrees? No way. The only qualifications they give me are:
Bachelors in psych - tell you what mental disorder I suspect you have based on a two minute scan of your social media
Bachelors in philosophy (same degree, second major) - argue endlessly (but kindly) and/or BS about just about anything
J.D. (fancy lawyer degree) - pay on my student loans until long after I’m dead
Is it my work experience? Nope. I sincerely doubt the advice you need is about industry compliance.
The fact that I have two children? If anything, that’s made me realize I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I spent five years proving I knew nothing with my first kid, and they let me take home a second. That feels grossly irresponsible.
Despite all of that, I’ve been giving advice and being called “mom” since I was about 12 years old. A decent amount of time, the advice even works. So if you have a question - about writing, life, estranged family, relationships, or anything else - feel free to get a deeply unqualified answer from Aunt Stevie.