I look at Sandra Cisneros' House on Mango Street, and Gary Soto's A Summer Life, and I want to be like those characters, stuck in a summer life, eating melon on Mango Street, finally having a house for my family and me. I know we all deserve more than this. My mother deserves everything—a backyard with lemon trees for barbeques and hammocks, a garage to shelter us from the rain when we throw parties. If only I could get things going. If only I could be a writer someday, but I feel like I'm going nowhere. And I'm barely on step one. Don't have my G.E.D. yet. Crying on steps like these. Falling lives with autumn leaves. Crying for a summer life on Vernon Street.

Now we're not on Vernon Street anymore and not eating melon on Mango Street, either. No lemon trees, but at least we have a pine tree. Don't have a backyard, but we have a porch. We don't own this house, but it's home, sweet home. We have a garden now with roses so red you can hear them laughing, like my sister, my mother, and I. We're so alive, finally. Not a writer yet, but I'm eager. Finally got my G.E.D. Not crying on autumn steps anymore. The leaves are growing and green. Past step one, but another one's got me. That's okay though, I've got my keys. And I've got this moment, this house and this chance that's passing—like a blindfolded shooting star.


"How to Become a Writer" is published in WriteGirl's newest anthology, Untangled. Stephanie Almendarez is 18 years old and currently lives in Los Angeles.