I’m used to answering this question in my writing. What if the character says, does, doesn’t do this. What if the setting was here rather than there. What if I kill off one of my darlings. What if I end the chapter, sentence, paragraph with this rather than that. What if she was a he or a creature of non definitive nature?
I don’t often think ‘what if’ about my life if I’m honest. I’m more of a keep moving forward kind of girl then thinking about what’s gone past. I might ask the question to help me make a decision but once it’s made that’s it. Can’t change it.
If I’m forced to think about it, I’d probably pick my first career choice to ask the question. What if I hadn’t chosen to go into nursing. It was pretty much predicated for me from an early age. With a mother and grandmother both in the nursing profession I had two great mentors to look up to. And I had nurses kits for birthday and christmas presents quite regularly. My dad did offer to set me and my sisters up in a business, like hairdressing once. I would have given it a go, but it never got further than that. I don’t think I have the social skills to be a hairdresser.
Nursing was a tough choice and one I couldn’t keep up in the end. I was one of the youngest District Nursing Sisters in the Health Authority at the time and I had to follow the tough path that my mother trod. I found it difficult to leave the patients, their problems and their families at the front door when I got home and so by the time I was thirty had moved into management and then teaching and education. All of which required me to be more extrovert when my preference is definitely more introvert.
Writing has always been my ‘dream’, not a career choice, not until these past few years. I always viewed it more as a hobby. It’s much more than that, it’s a passion, a need I have to fulfil.
Enough of ‘what ifs’. I have a novel to edit.