Less than eighteen months before I was due to graduate from college, I still had next to no idea what I wanted to do for a living. I’d majored in English literature and was pretty sure that I wanted to be a writer, but not the sort of writer who spends all of her time working on something that might not ever be published, or read by more than a few hundred people if it was. I couldn’t see the point of that. If “bestselling novelist” had been the kind of job that you could apply for, I almost certainly would have. But I wasn’t, so I put the idea out of my head.