by Jennifer TerBeest

When I think of being a rural writer, it does have its advantages and disadvantages.

The advantages include plenty of fresh air and a night sky full of stars and planets. On really clear nights, the Milky Way hovers close. Certain times of the year I can see a meteor shower in the night sky. Recently, I saw the International Space Station and space shuttle Discovery pass overhead. It was totally awesome.

Also awesome is the wind turbine farm I see on my way to and from Rochester. Many people in the area consider them an eyesore, but to me the turbines are a beautiful sight. Not only are they working to save energy, the whirling blades are welcoming me home after a long, hard day at work. Plus the turbines look pretty in the sunset.

Other senses benefit from a rural setting. I can smell fresh-cut hay from a farm not far from town. Sometimes there are unpleasant smells, like in the animal way. In the spring when farmers are starting to work on their fields after a long winter of waiting and planning, they spray their fields with fertilizer. I don’t mind. The smell usually goes away in a few days. I was a farm girl when I was younger—in my heart I still am—so I’m used to it.

While I adore my community, Lady, my Lhasa Apso, is the love of my life. She is the world’s most neurotic dog, but I love her anyway. I can walk her outside, knowing we will be safe. We see so many people and things on our daily walks. She gets excited when she sees little kids. A small town in Minnesota is a great place to raise a dog.

The disadvantages of being a writer in a small town include having to drive to a bigger city for work. I can find work only in Rochester, which is 26 miles north of Spring Valley. I am employed at Walmart Supercenter South as a cashier associate. It’s my real-world job.

My dream job would be to become the world’s greatest author. Move over, Snoopy! Walmart is a good place to work. Despite what you have heard on the news, my store does give lunches and breaks. They treat female associates fairly and equally. It pays the bills and keeps Lady fed and sheltered.

Trips to and from work, and small-town life in general, give me plenty of creative ideas for writing. One day about eight years ago, I was on my way to Rochester for a shopping trip. I saw a man about my age walking along the side of the road. You see many people walking along the road around here. However, this man was different. His hair was long and shaggy and he had a beard. He was wearing what looked like a burlap robe. He was pulling a big wooden cross on wheels behind him. Part of me wanted to stop and ask if he needed any help. The other part of me thought, No way. You might end up dead in the ditch. So I kept on driving. I did feel sorry for him. The local newspaper ran an article about him. In the article the man said he was doing it because of a calling from God.

I found my true calling as a writer when I was in my early twenties. I started with poetry. I thought that would be easy for me. My poetry was okay. Actually, I thought it sucked. Allen Ginsberg, Maya Angelou, and hundreds of other poets had nothing to worry about. I think the only person who really liked my poems was my mom. She even framed a few of them.

I went to a poetry reading at Barnes and Noble. I never read out loud anything I wrote. I was too bashful. I always thought my poetry wasn’t as good as that of the other poets who read. I just observed and listened. In the past I have joined poetry clubs and other writing clubs. Then, after a few months, the clubs would disband, or I would be the only one to show up at the meetings.

I started to work full time, so I forgot about writing for a while. Then I had to take care of my mom for a few years while working full time. I was working as a cashier at a grocery store in Rochester. I worked crappy hours and took verbal and emotional abuse from an incompetent manager. I worked as hard as I could and it was never good enough. Mom passed away in 2001. I was depressed and didn’t write. I wish now that I had.

I ended up getting terminated a month before Christmas in 2002. I think that was the best thing that ever happened to me. About a month later, the local newspaper, the Fillmore County Journal, ran an ad asking readers to send in stories for a book it was going to publish. When I saw that I thought, Why not? I had the time and I wanted to write again. Well, hard work and effort paid off, because my story was chosen along with those of other talented local writers, some of them famous. The title of the book is A Teacher, a Rooster and an Outhouse. And the title of my story is “Lady.” (The book can be found on amazon.com or at the two Barnes and Noble bookstores in Rochester or any gift shop in Fillmore County.) I brag now and then that I have a book in Barnes and Noble. This book gave me the confidence to know that I can be a great writer if I just try hard enough.

Many years ago, I took a prose-writing class at the Loft. It was held at a library in Minneapolis on Saturdays during the summer. It wasn’t held at the Loft, because a lady in a wheelchair was also taking the class. At the time, either the Loft didn’t have an elevator or it was broken. I don’t remember. It was a small class: about ten people plus the instructor.

The class started out fine. We went around the table and read what we wrote. I swear to you, every single person who read used words I needed a dictionary to understand. I looked at the instructor every time someone read his or her work. I didn’t understand anything. I think she knew it, too. She would glance over at me when I was looking at her. I thought, Maybe I should try screenwriting instead.

Learning has never been easy. When I was in school I had to go to the special education room. I learned slower than the other kids in my class. It was always embarrassing for me. After I graduated from school I kept my learning disability a secret. I was worried what people would think of me. I’m more open about it now. I feel that my learning disability does sometimes keep me from being a great writer. Some days I roll with the punches and grab my notebook and a pen, or sit at my computer and just write.

Other days I dream for different places and different spaces. I absolutely love the Twin Cities. There are so many things to do there. If I had it my way I would live at the Mall of America. It has everything I need, and more. I would move to the metro area in a heartbeat. It’s so hard being far away from concerts, traveling Broadway shows, and museums and stores that Rochester doesn’t have.

If I lived closer to Minneapolis I would be at the Loft every week, pestering the Loft staff and teachers, taking classes, and going to writing retreats. I would love to rent one of the writing studios. I haven’t visited the Twin Cities since 2002. I can’t believe it’s been that long! My income is limited and most of my paycheck goes toward bills. I often think about visiting the Twin Cities.

I also love the country. I’ve had a field in my backyard my whole life. And it wouldn’t feel right without one. Some years it was a soybean field, some years a cornfield—crop rotation, of course. I guess you can say I’m torn between two lands.

But I’m not torn about my passion. I would be a writer if I were sitting in front of a cornfield or looking at a skyline full of skyscrapers. I would write if I lived on Mars. I am a writer and I’m proud of it.

Jennifer TerBeest is passionate about astronomy, books, her BFF dog, Lady, chocolate, and, most of all, writing.