Your Fond Student,

Dearest Kim,

I only wish I could have a man in tights and a white curly wig hand deliver you this letter, after I had written it with some obnoxious bird feather dipped in evaporating ink; a concoction of sorts that we can’t fully reconcile. But of course, the year is 2026, so I hope this email finds you the most well. 

I don’t think about you all that often, yet I find myself reflecting almost daily on the impact you’ve had on me; so much so that I have started to consider myself a writer. For years, I held that title of Writer in the highest regard, on the very top shelf, reserved and suitable only for those with book deals and prestigious English degrees. Someday, I keep continuing to promise myself. However, I’ve received 232,477 pageviews to date on a single blogpost I wrote about having a crush on an Icelandic soccer player, and in reflection I am led to believe people are reading my work. I have a running Word document of 63 single spaced pages. Included in these pages I’ve maintained are descriptions, stories, observations, revelations, and dreams, which showcases both my addiction and necessary commitment for this work. Furthermore, in the age of AI, I still hold the craft of sequencing my words in such a way so that those on the receiving end hear my voice! Voices across the pond are getting drowned out by the em dash and, well, the ease it takes to use someone else's sentences these days. With that said, I’m excited to share that I have been promoted and my new title is: Writer. I promoted myself but I find these statistics and experiences worthy of the title. If anyone’s jury is still out, feel free to take me and my fierce words to court. Final judgment entered.

I believe this new role I am stepping into, to be of the highest importance, integral! Therefore, once I have more money saved, get an MFA, start dating a great guy, am married, get pregnant, have my first child, get her to kindergarten, find out her college acceptances, get her through college, see her graduate, have more time…then I will make this my life's work. 

But a writer wouldn't think like that! They would race to get their pen on the paper as time is of the essence, and we only have twenty minutes to answer the prompt! There are too many stories that need to be heard across the pond and if we don’t do it now, who will?

I wanted you to hear it from me first that I have fallen in love. It is an unorthodox relationship; myself, a pen, and paper. It brings me joy and it seems fruitful. I am optimistic and there are always more fish in the pond if this one doesn’t work out. These stories need to be heard so I am going to pursue this fierce love and see where it takes me.

Your fond Student,

Casey McNamara

Writer (Now on Substack)