Emily Mabey is an attorney who, went to law school at age 40. A mother of 4 she is now a practicing attorney and former freelance writer and editor. 
 
Emily says that “for as long as I can remember, I have liked stories—mostly stories about real people. I remember my mom getting frustrated that I didn’t want to read all the fantasy books my sisters were reading. She thought it meant I didn’t like to read. But then once she told me, “Emily, I have finally realized you are reading a lot—you’re just reading all the magazines in the bathroom.” She was right: National Geographic,  Sports Illustrated,Time, Newsweek, People. That’s what I was reading. From then on she made sure we had lots of good magazines, and suggested historical fiction or non-fiction to me instead of fantasy.
 
I always liked to ask a million questions. It was insatiable with me. I felt like I was good at conversation. (Which I always felt was a weird talent, because how do you show that to the judges in the Miss America pageant?! Hold fake conversations with manaquins? That’s how I thought about it when I was younger.) And people said I liked to argue, though I always felt indignant about that. How unfair! I just like to discuss things! People always said I would be either a journalist or an attorney. I hesitate to say I always liked to write, because I feel like people always misunderstand that. They think that means you find it fun to sit down and write. I know few people who do. In fact, it’s an agonizing experience for a lot of writers. It’s more like I always felt a need to write. It was like if I didn’t write an experience down, in my journal, or in a note to someone, or nowadays a text or email or journal app, I didn’t yet understand what had happened. It’s as if I process by writing, or at least by thinking the words aloud in my head. 
 
Anyway, that is all prelude to explain part of the reason I am where I am today. Why I have evolved the way I have.
 
I felt that need to write, but I didn’t know what to do with it. When I was in the groove, I was good: I had one high school teacher call me in and accuse me of plagiarism for a paper about The Scarlet Letter. She didn’t think a student could have written it. But when I wasn’t in the groove, I wasn’t in the groove. I didn’t want to focus on writing, or major in it. I thought this meant I wasn’t a real writer. My ideas only flowed when there was a real story to tell, or ideas to discuss. I wasn’t someone who sat down and wrote fiction for fun. That made me feel like an imposter. In college I majored in and loved American Studies. It was a really broad field that gave me all kinds of things to think and read and write about, from history to government to literature. But when I graduated from college, I still felt that imposter syndrome. I know most people thought I would go to law school. But I really fought that idea. I didn’t want to go do what everyone expected me to; I didn’t feel like anyone really understood me. I think we all feel that way. I decided if I ever wanted to know if I really had the stuff as a writer, I had to study it in grad school. I wanted to challenge my creative side once and for all. So I put together a portfolio and applied for two writing masters programs in Boston—one in journalism and one in creative writing. When I toured the programs, I realized my lack of desire to confront people or make them uncomfortable ruled out the journalism program:) 
 
After my masters in Writing and Publishing from Emerson College (I graduated in 2000; there were some experiences there that had a profound effect on me), I worked as a freelance writer and editor for about 15 years. I think it was a really important part of my life. I learned what I liked and didn’t like about the writing world. It was kind of a crappy time to enter it, because it was a time when long-form journalism and the world I loved was being overtaken by bloggers with no experience. Pay was way down, and desire for quality o