Kay P. wanted to write, and as soon as she left college got  herself a newspaper job. The only available position on that paper was assistant to the society editor. A year later the society editor resigned and Kay became the head of her department. She did her work so well that she won both praise and pay increases. But she hated her job. It was not the kind of writing she wanted to do, and she hated the teas and weddings and other events she had to attend, and she hated the constant pressure on her to put things in the paper which she considered stupid and irrelevant.

 

When she talked of resigning, her friends all said: "How foolish! You have a good job, you have good pay, you are secure. What else do you want to write?"

 

She didn't know exactly; but she did know that it wasn't society news.

 

Time passed and her annoyance grew. She begn to make mistakes in her reports of events and in names in the society columns. Then she began to overlook or leave out important news. She was warned by the managing editor, but to no avail. The climax came when she confused the principals in an important wedding with a prominent couple about to get a divorce.

 

A mistake like this could only have been a deliberate effort of her unconscious will to fail. It succeeded; she was discharged. Depressed by the blow that had fallen, she came to consult the minister in the church clinic. Was she adequate, useless? she asked. When her repugnance to her job was discovered , she was asked, "If you could rub an Aladdin's lamp and have the kind of work you'd like to do, what would it be?"

 

"I would like to write radio scripts," she replied , "and I believe I could do it."

 

She finally found such work, and after a few months was happy and on the way to success.