Jalapeno the Farmer

I remember the first time I became aware of my love for writing. I was probably in second or third grade, and I had decided that I wanted to write stories because only I knew the story that I would want to read. I had somehow arrogantly decided that none of the books I read satisfied me in terms of cheesiness and satisfying endings, so I took up the pen myself.

The very first story I ever created was a terrible story called Jalapeno. It was about a farmer named Jalapeno who grew (you guessed it) jalapenos. At some point he met an alien space princess and they fell in love. I know, I know, it was absolutely horrendous and made no sense. However, in my defense I was probably only 6 or 7. I couldn't even type yet, so I asked my older sister to type the story up for me.

Little by little, this small passion grew. I owe it mainly to the amazing English teachers I had growing up. But, the main thing that cemented my love for writing was actually abandoning it. When it came time to decide on future careers, writing seemed too unstable to pursue. Instead I chose biology with the hopes of attaining a job as a researcher. However, once I completed my first year of college, the memories that stood out to me were almost exclusively my humanities classes. Of course, rather than switching majors, I decided, recently, that if I loved writing this much, I should just pursue both writing and biology. Thus, leading me to where I am now.