Born To It

How long I have been writing

  At a young age, before words could be formed, I wrote. Round and around the pencil would go. No words, just round scribbles. Illegible words that made sense to one who is three.

   A crayon in one hand and a plastic place mat in the other. A child of the 80’s at an impressionable age. The theme song for I Love Lucy blared in the background. I sat in the kitchen watching the cursive writing scrawl across the heart on the television set.

   I wanted to copy that motion I was watching. The curls and the loops. I mimicked the motion on the piece of plastic with the crayon. I was scolded for drawing on the place mat.

   In school, I learned to read and write. I learned to spell. When the class did tests, we scored each others papers. With a red ink pen, we marked the wrong answers. At the end of the school year, we each got a red pen.

  With the pen was a tiny spiral notebook. Mine had Care Bears on the cover. I penned my first story in that book. I based it off of a dream I had back before I even started school. I dreamed of gypsies from outer space. I wrote of a blond princess from that troupe.

   She could fly and fence. She landed on Earth as she ran from someone who was taking over her planet. Five short installments and through high school I wrote of her adventures. One of the many science fiction stories I have written.

   My creativity had suffered many blocks. When I was a teen, I had to finish an end of a story. As a teacher proofread the ending that I wrote, she noticed how ordinary it was. At the snap of a finger, I twisted it up. She gave a word of praise, “Nice curve ball!” Then I was writing again.

   I was put into a creative writing class. I wrote a story that kept my teachers on the edge of their seat. I wrote a story that freaked out my mom. This was when I ended up moving. The writing had stopped when I was kicked out of my home. I attempted to drive my new teachers crazy.

   Normally an essay will be as long as a paragraph to as long as two pages. My essays were always 25 pages long. So much for their ignorant theory that small town people were illiterate and uneducated.

   A handful of years after high school, I stopped writing again. I had prayed and the very next day I wrote a story about an angel warrior.

   Off and on, I wrote and I wrote. The many short stories that I needed to make long. I was never satisfied. Many projects of screenplays were nearly finished. I grumbled at the whiney b*****s on strike.

   Nothing was getting done. It had been ages since I even had a snippet published. Back when I was younger and more amusing. Now I am dark, sassy, and bitter.

  Today, I am more motivated to get things done. Look out, Idaho! The monster you made is making a return!    

 

Reviews

[Anthony Morningstar]

I like this piece very much. It's not very bitter like it could be and that seems to be the best part of it. It seems very to the fact but with a dash of fun to keep one reading to the end. Always just wanting to see the end but at the same time enjoing the scenes that go by.