Reminders of my attempts to start my writing career arrived last Christmas. A friend, Joyce Campbell, sent me letters I had written to her while we were serving as Peace Corps Volunteers (teaching English) in Ethiopia from September 1962 to July 1964 and in the months after we returned home (Chattanooga, Tennessee, for her and Kirksville, Missouri, for me) after traveling through Europe.

On December 21, 1964, I wrote, “Has anything turned up for you yet? People don’t seem terribly impressed with Peace Corps experience for job qualifications it seems to me. I’m going down to the University Placement Bureau [University of Missouri School of Journalism] after New Year’s, I guess, and see what pedestrian ‘good experience’ job they can turn up. I may go to N.Y. and go down magazine row if nothing shows up fairly soon, but I think jobhunting will be pretty futile until I’ve had some journalistic experience—big frog in little pond first. Are you considering teaching again?”

On January 5, 1965, I replied to her letter expressing distress about the open racism all around her, and common in my town. I suggested she go elsewhere for grad school. I also reported on friends seeking jobs in D.C.: “A friend said agencies are getting a little tired of all the ex P.C. applicants.”

On January 24, I wrote about giving talks on my Peace Corps experience, attempting to write a short story, and reading books on writing fiction. I’d applied, without success, for a job in Hallmark’s public relations department in Kansas City and turned down a job teaching journalism and freshman comp at Northeast Missouri State Teachers College, where I’d earned my B.A. and B.S. in Education.

I was determined to stay in journalism. “It occurred me that a possibility for both of us is McGraw-Hill. They are working on a lot of textbooks for overseas markets. I’m not particularly hep on that, but they also publish a number of trade magazines.”

We agreed that that we shouldn’t rush decisions. “I keep thinking that never again will I have free time and free board & should let jobhunting take its course and try to do some real writing.”

A month later I expressed my frustration with my attempts at writing articles on the P.C. experience and a short story. (I wouldn’t have a short story published until the 21st century.) I have absolutely no memory of this story, but below is my description. It reflects the language and attitudes of the time and my accurate appraisal of my skills.

“The short story is about a teacher told to make sure her Negro pupils have prominent parts in the Christmas program so that everyone can see how liberal the school is. She gets in trouble when she has a Negro Joseph and a white Mary. The theme of the story as it stands now is really the necessity of compromise and gradual progress. The solution is weak because it is a happy coincidence instead of an actual solving of a dilemma, but this is also a theme in that sometimes there is no solution.”

Later in the letter, I responded to one of her comments. “You said idealism is out of style. I think a lot of people are theoretically idealistic. They are the ones who think we have done a wonderful thing [serving in the Peace Corps] and may even imagine themselves doing it for a couple of minutes.”

My last letter in the series was dated March 18, 1965. I congratulated her on finding a job. (Soon she joined a special grad program on teaching in disadvantaged neighborhoods in Cleveland.) I had sent 10 letters to selected magazines and was planning a trip to D.C., where I could stay with a good friend from college, while seeking a job in person.

In May 1965, the combination of letters and appearing in person netted me an editorial job at the NEA Journal, then a top monthly published by the National Education Association. My Peace Corps teaching experience proved a plus, and it didn’t hurt that the renowned editor, Mildred Sandison Fenner, came from northwest Missouri.

This wonderful first job taught me an immense amount about writing, editing, and organizing a magazine. I was on my way.

Carolyn Mulford