Amy Echeverri

Adults ask sil­ly ques­tions of chil­dren. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” A writer. A teacher. Adults nod sage­ly and tell the chil­dren that they’re good kids, very good kids, here’s a bis­cuit.

But here’s the thing. Amy did­n’t under­stand that the adults were ask­ing about her career. She thought they meant what she want­ed to be. Not do. And Amy want­ed to be a writer. Or a teacher. Maybe both, chuck­led wise adults, crack­ing wise about the notion of the impov­er­ished teacher and the pen­ni­less poet.

Amy con­tin­ues to careen around all the mean­ings of a sen­tence and choose exact­ly the wrong one. Or the right one. It’s a mys­tery. It does give her a skill in her tech­ni­cal writ­ing career — she can pre­dict uncan­ni­ly how a befud­dled user will read text wrong. It’s good to have a career that a kid can tell the folks about. Details about her smut writ­ing career make for qui­et­ly uncom­fort­able fam­i­ly sup­pers. Mean­while, her per­son­al writ­ing includes nov­els, role-play­ing games, live-action-role-play­ing games, and scripts for graph­ic nov­els. She’ll write pret­ty much any­thing.

Amy is a writer. You can find her tech­ni­cal writer pro­file at LinkedIn.

The Mail­box: Guest Blog­ger Amy Puts Down the Smack
Mak­ing Bank as a Writer
Red Ink, Man­u­scripts, and a Mul­ti­ple-Stab­bing Vic­tim
Wikipedia Min­dreads. Kin­da.
Prac­ti­cal Sac­ri­fice