this is a true story.

okay, so many, many, many years ago – many – like 35 years ago, i was in dire need of some direction, guidance, and yes, encouragement regarding my life, specifically my career. i wanted desperately to be a writer.
that was my dream.
my goal.
my hope.
my wish.
and so… i went to see a woman – an older, wiser, smarter woman than myself. she was recommended by a mutual friend who thought she could help put my life – my young, unwise, street-smart life – on track, or at the very least, show me where the track in fact was, and point me in that direction.


i meet with this older, wiser, smarter woman.
i had become a buddhist, and she was in fact a sorta, kinda spiritual leader – minus the clackers and robes. she seemed soft and kind, calm and unaffected, smiley and well groomed. and apparently she also had an abundance of faith. back then, in the 70’s and early 80’s, loads and loads – boatloads of people – were given the title ‘spiritual leader.’ prior to them being spiritual leaders they were more than likely drug addicts and/or felons. back then everyone was seeking true happiness and inner peace and getting laid. joining a spiritual community brought all three together. “hey wanna come to a buddhist slash spiritual meeting, kneel for two hours, and then, hey we can go for a drink, and you know, have sex. whatdya think?” I think BINGO IS MY NAME-OH. back then it was a time when both enlightenment & parking spots were on the top ten list, side by side.

i wanted to write.
that was my fervent wish.
to use my life and my voice to help others, inspire others. it was what i believed i should do.
my mission.
my passion.
to use my voice so others could use theirs.
so, i went to see this older, smarter, wiser woman, a woman with an abundance of faith, and she asked me a bunch of questions: where did i go to school (i dropped out of high school), how long had i been writing (i dabbled, you know, occasionally), did i know anyone at magazines, or journals or publishers (not a fucking soul), and then she looked at me, grabbed my hand and said:
“Oh my dear, you should become a secretary.”
I looked at her.
She smiled at me.
A smiley face.
She rubbed my arm, and offered me another smile.
I looked at her.
She no longer looked smarter and wiser. She just looked older.
I stood up.
I could not stop the tears from flowing.
And then I did and said something I had never said or done in my entire life, I said:
“You know what, fuck you. That’s right, fuck you. I’m gonna show you what it means to have faith. i’m gonna prove you wrong.”

And i walked out, filled with a strength i never knew i had, a power that felt so very full & palpable, a belief that nothing – absolutely nothing – was impossible.

and i wrote.
and wrote.
and wrote.
and wrote…
… movies, and books, and essays and i edited magazines, and wrote more books and another movie, and a TV series, and…

and …
i wrote.
about all things i had/have grand and mighty passion for.
my passion.
my whole full passion.
and i wanna say this: had she told me on that day i could be a writer, had she said, my god you’re fucking amazing and brilliant and holy shit… let me call my (make-believe) agent and get you a writing gig right now… i would have never, ever, ever – not in a million fucking years – written.


it was all because she told me i couldn’t do what i wanted to do that i was going to prove her wrong.
i was gonna show her – and myself – what i was made of.

so, here’s to us.
the one’s who say:
and then go out into this crazy, wacky, messy, glorious & oh so gorgeous world and do just that.

Category: Uncategorized 8 comments »

8 Responses to “I AM A WRITER GIRL”

  1. Hollye Dexter

    And now everyone is privy to the story that lifted my morning and made me feel like I could keep going.

    I love you, and I love this story.

  2. Alison Caiola

    Oh boy, almond joy, did I LOVE this blog post. And now you, my dear friend, have become a cheerleader and mentor to so many people.

    Amy I think it’s mighty grand
    that you never learned to take shorthand
    Cause with your talent and mighty smile
    it would be a waste to only type and only file
    And think of poor George who would he marry?
    if Amy Ferris had become a secretary?

  3. Debra DeAngelo

    OMG, I LOVE THIS!!!!! I’m so glad you got so pissed off! You ARE a writer!!! A damn good one too!

  4. Beth Dunnington

    Amy Ferris! I love that just tell the real story with no fat; you cut right to the chase. You are such an inspiration to me, and clearly to all the other writers who have been lucky enough to cross your fierce path. BIG gratitude for you~

  5. Eileen Moon

    Wise and wonderful Amy Ferris!

  6. Mary Saar

    Gumption! Good for you!

  7. Lisa Pearl Rosenbaum

    Amy Ferris, you’re my kind of girl. Had an encounters with another “wise women” years ago. She advised against my becoming a dance choreographer. Isadora Duncan, she said, got herself killed because she didn’t know how the machines in life work (the scarf! the scarf!). Eight unhappy years of law school and practice later, I escaped the machine and lived to write about it. So, like you, I now choreograph with words. Ha! Thanks for a very good read!

  8. Cherry Woodburn

    Quite a story. SO, SO glad you got mad and wrote and wrote and wrote some more.

    I hope there are no secretaries out there who wanted to be writers and went to this just-old woman and hadn’t had the fight and anger you did.

    Hugs to writer girl.

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