By Katrice

I think at some point in every career writer's life, we think we will or should reside in NYC. I don't know where I got this idea, outside of knowing a little about the publishing industry, but I've thought it since I was about 11 and I decided I wanted to one day be an editor. 

In 2006, I had begun the process of applying with Teach for America in New York and was considering moving to Queens as it seemed that I'd actually be offered a position. Foremost in my mind was that I would finally be in the city ... not the job I was pursuing. I was literally driven by the premise of being in NYC, the place I believed essential to my rise as a journalist. I was convinced that for a dramatic opportunity, I'd need a dramatic jump. And what is more fantastic a jump than moving to NYC? In my mind, it was a sign of commitment to my dreams. It was a move of boldness and a leap of faith. And then like a switch being clicked on, the entire idea terrified me. The romaniticization of being a "starving artist" was one thing. The reality of it, another.

I had only moved to Philadelphia four months earlier and felt it a comfortable challenge because at least I had a cousin there for support as I tried to break into the magazine industry.  

I was within a train ride of the NYC and so everything seemed as if it would inevitably work out {the key word being inevitably. I'm not the "inevitable" type anymore}. I should also mention that at this point, four months into living in Philly, I hadn't received one bite from any of the magazines or media outlets to which I had applied daily for editorial assistant positions. But, I was determined that I was not going back home to Ohio. I literally told everyone who asked as I was preparing to leave {and after I was gone} that if it didn't work out in Philadelphia, I'd try another city. I meant that. And now I was pursuing a job that had nothing to do with my dream career with no plan in place. 

That's the interesting thing about my move out of Ohio six years ago. I learned the essence of the scripture that says "faith without works is dead." When I decided to relocate, I felt confident that it was the right time and that I was prepared. I'm a spiritual woman, so I had been praying about it. I'm hard working, so I believed my resume pretty strong. And mentally, I was clamoring for a change. But, I had put no strategy in place. When it was time for Plan B, I was starting from nothing; Plan B was actually Plan A. 

After rethinking New York, a few conversations with my aunt and my brother, who were both already in Atlanta, led me to start researching publications in the Southeast ... something I should have done before even considering quitting my job and moving {in every sense of the word} on faith alone. It helps when your support system is resourceful and patient, but preparation on your part is key. With just a little digging, I found a hearty publishing industry in Atlanta. I couldn't believe the number of magazines within metro Atlanta alone. Moreover, I was actually a bit embarrassed that I didn't know. I hadn't even given myself the luxury of options. 

Options are everything. 

Within a week of realizing the type of opportunity for journalists in Atlanta, I had packed my car and driven from Pennsylvania to Georgia. That was May 2006, which seems like only yesterday. And sometimes, I wonder what may have happened had I actually moved to New York and not Atlanta. But, I don't regret that still small voice that stopped me in my tracks. Had it not been for that moment of clarity, I may never have carried on in the right direction. I'm still a believer in praying for what I desire and expecting it to come to pass. Now, however, I don't just pray for miracles, I prepare for them.