In February, we celebrate Groundhog Day, Presidents’ Day, Valentine’s Day and Black History Month. Did you know we also observe Freelance Writers Appreciation Week in February?
I didn’t know this and I am a freelance writer. We must be pretty important because we are celebrated for an entire week, unlike the groundhog, Saint Valentine and our presidents, who are only honored for a single day.
My “career” as a freelance writer began when I was in the 4th grade. My teacher gave the class an assignment to write a letter to God asking for the one thing we wanted most in the world.
While most of my classmates asked for toys or pets, I asked for world peace. To this day, I have no idea why I chose that — I liked toys and dogs as much as anyone else in my class and I wasn’t particularly religious. For some reason, world peace seemed to be the best thing to ask for.
Apparently, my teacher was deeply moved by my letter and gave it to her minister to read to the congregation the following Sunday. She called my mother to inform her of my altruistic request and to thank her for raising such a remarkable child.
I was a local celebrity for the next few weeks, as other ministers read my letter to their congregations. If they only knew what a mischievous child I was when I wasn’t busy writing letters to God, they might have chosen another topic for their sermons.
I am not telling this story to impress anyone but to convey my continuing amazement at the power the written word possesses. My mother and many of my teachers cultivated in me a love of books and respect for the profound effect they can have on readers.
At a young age, I had the privilege of knowing what my words meant to others. This is a lesson I have never forgotten.
Several years later, I became an assistant editor for my high school newspaper. My English teacher was the faculty advisor and I learned a lot from her about journalism. She taught me how to crop photos and how to edit articles.
We were working under conditions that people today would describe as primitive. We had typewriters instead of computers and dictionaries instead of spell checkers, but we managed to turn out pretty good editions.
Several decades later, I began writing a slice-of-life column for CityView Magazine that has allowed me the freedom to discuss many different topics. I have not only covered a wide variety of subjects, but I have also written these columns under what many readers would consider interesting circumstances.
I have written a column while sitting in a chair at a hair salon, hoping my hairdresser would not spill dye on my notebook. I don’t usually expose my rough drafts to possible destruction, but I was eager to write down my thoughts before they slipped away.
Ironically, I cannot recall the title of this article, but at the time, risking the possibility of a double color treatment — one on my head and the other on my lap — seemed like a good idea.
I have written columns while waiting in a medical office to be called back to see my doctor, firmly believing that taking this opportunity to put my thoughts on paper was a better use of my time than reading a magazine in the waiting room that was three years old.
I have also written columns in bed with my husband beside me, sleeping like a baby. On more than one occasion, I have had to fight the urge to fall asleep, determined to write down my thoughts before I forgot them.
It has been decades since I was a little girl writing a letter to God that would inspire sermons. That experience taught me about the power of the written word and I have never forgotten it.
While I write a slice-of-life column that is sometimes whimsical and sometimes poignant, I always write with the belief that readers may identify with my stories.
Whether my column makes them laugh or cry, I always write from the heart, humbled by the knowledge that I am able to connect with them through my words.
Mary Zahran, who no longer writes columns while sitting in a chair at the hair salon, can be reached at maryzahran@gmail.com.
Read CityView Magazine’s “The Love Issue” February 2025 e-edition here.
Source: Confessions of a freelance writer in Fayetteville, NC
