I almost want to skim over this, where I grew up, what I dreamed of as a kid, etc. but I feel like that would defeat the purpose of this entire blog that I’m building both online and in my head (like imagining).
I’m a Lemmerman, which probably doesn’t mean squat to you, but to me, it means a lot. The people I come from, the location we originally hale from, where I’ve been, and where I am now. Mostly, it means that every other person on the planet with the last name Lemmerman is my cousin in some way. And, the only other Samantha Lemmerman married into our clan–so I’m one of a kind.
I can hear those of you who know me snickering, because once you know me on a certain level, you find that to be so true it’s ridiculous.
But. Back to me.
When I was born, right in the middle of Gemini season, I was the first girl born on our family land in eighty years. High school came as a torture device disguised as education.
Many of the people in my life told me that writing fiction wasn’t “practical.” Neither are the thirteen tattoos and ten piercings I have, or the six-inch fuchsia suede heels that I’ve worn twice and paid forty dollars for. I do it anyway. I knew I wanted to create things and I knew I would never ever be able to sit in an office and enter data into a computer–you know what I mean, like boring things, if it were book related, maybe.
I went through college where I first earned my Associate Arts and Science degree, aka my generals. I thought at that time I wanted to be an English teacher, because it would be a good ‘day job’ for a writer. Right? WRONG. I hated the idea. The whole concept of me returning to high school voluntarily to teach and hope to God that I got a student like a mini-me? Nope.
When I sat down with the then-chair of the English Department at Southwest Minnesota State University, Jim Zarzana asked me what I wanted to do with a degree in technical writing and communication. “Teach high school and write.” He stared at me, and let me tell you I think I’ve had one conversation that’s included Jim not smiling. (HINT: it was this one I’m telling you about.) I walked out of the class registration day for transfers with a positive outlook on my future and my spirit beaming.
I couldn’t wait to start classes.
They were great. I worked hard and starved for any kind of feedback I could get on all of my writing.
My senior year at SMSU, I became president of the English Club and the Fiction/Non-Fiction Editor for the university’s literary journal, Perceptions. I named my senior portfolio “She Leaves a Trail of Glitter,” because I literally left some glitter at SMSU, but I also made irreplaceable friendships and bonds. God, that sounds so cheesy.
But, you might have noticed the title of my senior portfolio and the title of this blog match. That is no mistake, friend!
I just really like glitter and I want this blog to represent my hard work and struggles in my life post-undergrad.
There’s going to be a bit of back-and-forth on if I want to go to graduate school or not. If I want to keep writing alternative adult fiction or branch out.What I want to do with my life in general, including tattoos, and the feminine struggle of “I’m almost twenty-five and everyone keeps asking when I’m going to bring home a man.”
Phew, that’s a lot.