Monday, February 4, 2013

My First Time

By Rich

Everyone has a first time at something. It could be the first time you ate at a restaurant without a scary cheeseburger-headed mayor. It may be the first time you pushed a boy or girl off of the monkey bars because you liked them. There's even the first time you...Wow, you have a filthy mind! I didn't even realize that was legal on this planet, let alone several places in the solar system.

What I tried to mention before you went down Potty Mouth Avenue was this - most authors can pinpoint the precise moment they knew they were writers. And, unlike their first steps, or the first time they got drunk and attempted to make out with the statue of Susan B. Anthony on the college quad, this moment chimes clear as a bell in their minds. It's a feeling not unlike the one someone receives when they heed the call of a higher power, or discover the final piece in a scientific equation, or realize the precise angle to aim the rock in Angry Birds.

My moment came in Mrs. Courtney's third grade class. At a point toward the end of the school year, somewhere between our standardized tests and the reward of an Old Barn Milk Bar scoop of ice cream for knowing all my multiplication tables, Mrs. Courtney asked us to write a two page story with a winter theme. Being my favorite teacher up to that point, and still one of the tops to this day, I was determined to impress her.

I began crafting a story about ice skating, or sledding, or something related to the cold and snowy weather we once enjoyed before the ice caps began to melt. However, as I reached the last few lines on the back of my notebook paper, the characters in my story discovered a body frozen into the ice. Before I knew it, my two page tale became a several page murder mystery that I couldn't stop writing - the ideas came gushing out of my brain, pleading me to be added to the tale.

When I turned it in, Mrs. Courtney said it wasn't exactly what she wanted, but she enjoyed it all the same. This is when I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would become a writer no matter how long it took. It was also the exact moment when I knew I was going to become an attention hog; hence, this post all about me.

When did you realize you were a writer?


6 comments:

lbdiamond said...

Ha! This is great.

Patricia Stoltey said...

It was way, way, way back in high school when my English teacher praised a poem I wrote and suggested I pursue writing seriously. Of course, she was thinking literary and would probably be horrified I chose crime fiction instead.

Dean K Miller said...

Maybe the second time I took creative writing in Jr. College, solidified by the Poetry class next semester. (you should know this if you read my blog)

But of course, I didn't really believe it after a while and let it sag.

Now that I am sagging, I find myself believing again.

Lynn said...

Can't pinpoint an exact moment. I come from a family of newspaper people, so I kind of assumed that if I wrote, it would be in that realm.

About seven years ago, I decided to pursue the "writing life" without knowing exactly what I meant by that. I've been feeling my way along ever since and loving it.

Lynn said...

Can't pinpoint an exact moment. I come from a family of newspaper people, so I kind of assumed that if I wrote, it would be in that realm.

About seven years ago, I decided to pursue the "writing life" without knowing exactly what I meant by that. I've been feeling my way along ever since and loving it.

Ruth said...

My first was as an English major in college. No, it wasn't all the literary analysis papers that did it, but an open assignment from a professor. She left it up to us how we would respond to a piece of American writing and I did so with a creative flair. I was so impressed with the perspective that I portrayed. It revealed that I may be able to write creatively (which I had done little of until this point).

It's such a great feeling...that first time.

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