Were there any signs early in your life that you would one day become a writer? Describe.
13 thoughts on “Reader Friday: Early Signs of Being a Writer”
My addiction to blank pages. Notebooks. Doodling. Oh, the doodling. On walls at a very early age. Magic markers on the refrigerator. And I was such a liar. I’d constantly lie to my mother’s friends. “Well, hello there, sweetie! How are you?” “I have small pox.”
I was a constant source of embarrassment to Mom. She’s kind of proud of me now, though.
I started doing creative writing for the dreaded, “What did you do over the summer?” Assignments. According to my versions, I barely made it back to school alive, each year.
LOL! What an exciting childhood you must have had.
Nowadays, I probably would be sent to the Mental Health office, lol.
My sister and I launched several family newspapers. (In a family with 8 kids, there was always plenty to report.) It had to be painstakingly pecked out on the old Underwood, so there were long gaps between editions. But she went on to become a high school librarian, and I’ve been writing for 40 years. So it seems to have taken.
In high school, when a new English teacher, fresh out of college, showed up for junior year, a small group created a phantom student – John Kauffman. John wrote racy essays with an attitude. Our teacher read all his papers, to the delight of the class. John aced the class and was never uncovered.
I’ve always been a heavy reader and I’ve always had a good imagination.
In 3rd great I wrote my epic first book (with self-created drawings) called “My Five Motorcycles” (I’ve had three so far – so I’ve still got some living to do.). It got an honorable mention mention award for the school. (Gold seal with ribbon and all! :D)
Then at the awards ceremony for seniors, I got an award for writing which I thought was crazy at the time. My two least favorite and least successful subjects were math and English. I spent my time in science and engineering. I was told – “Why are you surprised? You write and present really well.” I took it to heart and started working on some crazy sci-fi stories.
Yes. My first one hundred or so requests to have my diaper changed were met with polite rejection letters.
The first indication may have been when I was about 6 years old. My parents made me go to bed around 8 PM, but I had some type of insomnia even then and could not sleep until much later. So I’d lay in bed and listen to them watching Columbo, The Six Million Dollar Man, and other shows. Since I couldn’t see what was on the screen, and could only hear about half of it, I started making up my own shows in my head. Eventually I looked forward to going to bed because I once there I was free to start writing my own episodes (and acting out all the parts). It was even in colour and both Steve Austin and Detective Columbo looked exactly like me!
When I was in elementary school, I ventured out to write a play about a king, a queen and a horse that I sent off to the PBS TV program “Zoom” in hopes that they would select my play and put on a performance (they didn’t but I did get a cookie recipe card saying thanks in return).
Even though I had difficulty reading, I was captivated by books–the physical presence of books. We had hardly any books around the house, so when I would see one somewhere, I would become quite excited. I started making books with pictures in them and my mother would sew them together. Radio was a trigger for my imagination, too. Later in school they made us diagram sentences. That’s when it all came together for me. Everyone else hated diagramming, but I loved it. Now I find out I am a visual thinker. Back then, who knew? I’ve always had three or four stories building in my head. Only during the past 11 years have I started writing them down and reading JSB’s books about writing. Now I’m obsessed with it. For twenty-some years I worked as a technical writer, and never knew I had real stories cooking inside my head.
I have been obsessed with books before I could read. As a consequence, at the age of nine, I was determined to write my own book. In Highschool, my favourite English teacher wrote on my short story that I was one of the best in his year ( in retrospect – small class) and his words stayed with me as my life segued into a career of healthcare. I carried his encouragement with me however and now that I have retired, I ham in the throes of final edits for my first book and starting the sequel. Since the hour a book was first placed in my hands, I have been enthralled with the skill of telling a story. I think that the passion for both reading and writing will accompany me to the end of my journey.
When I started to reread my email responses to folks. Especially when I was frustrated and trying to make things happen. I’d read my email and go, “Damn, I’d listen to her if I ever received an email like that. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.” And then I’d get depressed because nobody ever really cared about what I had to say, at least not in reality.
So, I started writing for a different audience and I changed my message to fiction with a little bit of truth.
My addiction to blank pages. Notebooks. Doodling. Oh, the doodling. On walls at a very early age. Magic markers on the refrigerator. And I was such a liar. I’d constantly lie to my mother’s friends.
“Well, hello there, sweetie! How are you?”
“I have small pox.”
I was a constant source of embarrassment to Mom. She’s kind of proud of me now, though.
I started doing creative writing for the dreaded, “What did you do over the summer?” Assignments. According to my versions, I barely made it back to school alive, each year.
LOL! What an exciting childhood you must have had.
Nowadays, I probably would be sent to the Mental Health office, lol.
My sister and I launched several family newspapers. (In a family with 8 kids, there was always plenty to report.) It had to be painstakingly pecked out on the old Underwood, so there were long gaps between editions. But she went on to become a high school librarian, and I’ve been writing for 40 years. So it seems to have taken.
In high school, when a new English teacher, fresh out of college, showed up for junior year, a small group created a phantom student – John Kauffman. John wrote racy essays with an attitude. Our teacher read all his papers, to the delight of the class. John aced the class and was never uncovered.
I’ve always been a heavy reader and I’ve always had a good imagination.
In 3rd great I wrote my epic first book (with self-created drawings) called “My Five Motorcycles” (I’ve had three so far – so I’ve still got some living to do.). It got an honorable mention mention award for the school. (Gold seal with ribbon and all! :D)
Then at the awards ceremony for seniors, I got an award for writing which I thought was crazy at the time. My two least favorite and least successful subjects were math and English. I spent my time in science and engineering. I was told – “Why are you surprised? You write and present really well.” I took it to heart and started working on some crazy sci-fi stories.
Yes. My first one hundred or so requests to have my diaper changed were met with polite rejection letters.
The first indication may have been when I was about 6 years old. My parents made me go to bed around 8 PM, but I had some type of insomnia even then and could not sleep until much later. So I’d lay in bed and listen to them watching Columbo, The Six Million Dollar Man, and other shows. Since I couldn’t see what was on the screen, and could only hear about half of it, I started making up my own shows in my head. Eventually I looked forward to going to bed because I once there I was free to start writing my own episodes (and acting out all the parts). It was even in colour and both Steve Austin and Detective Columbo looked exactly like me!
When I was in elementary school, I ventured out to write a play about a king, a queen and a horse that I sent off to the PBS TV program “Zoom” in hopes that they would select my play and put on a performance (they didn’t but I did get a cookie recipe card saying thanks in return).
Even though I had difficulty reading, I was captivated by books–the physical presence of books. We had hardly any books around the house, so when I would see one somewhere, I would become quite excited. I started making books with pictures in them and my mother would sew them together. Radio was a trigger for my imagination, too. Later in school they made us diagram sentences. That’s when it all came together for me. Everyone else hated diagramming, but I loved it. Now I find out I am a visual thinker. Back then, who knew? I’ve always had three or four stories building in my head. Only during the past 11 years have I started writing them down and reading JSB’s books about writing. Now I’m obsessed with it. For twenty-some years I worked as a technical writer, and never knew I had real stories cooking inside my head.
I have been obsessed with books before I could read. As a consequence, at the age of nine, I was determined to write my own book. In Highschool, my favourite English teacher wrote on my short story that I was one of the best in his year ( in retrospect – small class) and his words stayed with me as my life segued into a career of healthcare. I carried his encouragement with me however and now that I have retired, I ham in the throes of final edits for my first book and starting the sequel. Since the hour a book was first placed in my hands, I have been enthralled with the skill of telling a story. I think that the passion for both reading and writing will accompany me to the end of my journey.
When I started to reread my email responses to folks. Especially when I was frustrated and trying to make things happen. I’d read my email and go, “Damn, I’d listen to her if I ever received an email like that. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.” And then I’d get depressed because nobody ever really cared about what I had to say, at least not in reality.
So, I started writing for a different audience and I changed my message to fiction with a little bit of truth.