A brief encounter in a sterile interview room explores the essence of writing and self-expression. When asked who would care about their truth, the aspiring writer’s answer reveals a raw, personal philosophy about storytelling. Sometimes, the only audience we need is ourselves.
I went for an interview.
Interviewer (glancing at my resume with a raised eyebrow): So, you want to be a writer?
Me (sitting up straighter): Yes.
Interviewer: What do you write about?
Me: The truth.
Interviewer (leaning forward, intrigued): Whose truth?
Me: My truth.
Interviewer (pausing, then smirking): And who wants to read your truth?
Me (meeting their gaze, unwavering): Me.
For a moment, silence filled the room. The interviewer tapped their pen against the desk, the faint rhythm almost mocking. I sat still, clutching my notebook tightly, waiting for the verdict I already sensed.
Interviewer (leaning back in their chair, dismissive): Next candidate, please!
As I left, I couldn’t help but smile. They wouldn’t understand. But that was okay—my truth wasn’t theirs to validate.
Prompt: Write a short piece where a character defends their creative passion during a high-stakes interview. How do they articulate their vision, and does it win over their audience—or reveal something deeper about their motivation?