WASHINGTON POST PERSONAL ESSAY
I took an essay writing class and, on a whim, sent a piece about my childhood love of letters to the Washington Post. To my surprise, they printed it. To my chagrin, my parents were so happy that I'd "finally written something"—meaning I'd be published somewhere they could see my writing. Never mind I'd been paying the bills as a writer for quite a while then. There's no glory in being a content writer.