Four years ago, I was a frustrated, fed-up writer, sitting in a Starbucks in Times Square in tears. I'd gotten 27 rejections on my book -- ironically enough,it was about how to live your dreams -- and I was sure my own dream of being a successful author was dead. At that moment, a little voice whispered in my ear that I would only become a writer when, and if, I chose it. Like really chose it -- deep in that secret place we all have in our gut.