In the fourth grade, Mrs. Cooper stood in front of our class and said “We’re going to write a book.” I don’t remember much about the fourth grade, but I do remember that. We, the class, were going to write a book. And we, the class, decided to write a mystery book involving ( surprise) kids our own age who solve a mystery. So Mrs. C wrote the first chapter, and for 27 weeks every kid in the class passed the book around and we each contributed the next chapter. And 27 weeks later, we had a book.
Printing technology being what it was in the dark ages, we had one copy ( mimeographed from our graphite inscribed endeavors) and I remember taking it home for my one day and pouring over it. I probably read it fifteen times. It was the first time that I felt I could really accomplish something that I enjoyed.
At the age of 12, I sent in my first short story to Alfred Hitchcock Magazine. They promptly sent it back. But in the back of my mind, I knew I could do this. I’d written part of a mystery novel in the fourth grade, and if you do that, you can do just about anything.
And what defining moment told you that you could do whatever it is you wanted to do?
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What a great story, Don.
I wrote my first novel when I was about that age. I still have it. It is a science fiction thing called, “Never Dare a Creature’s Mind.” Pretty funny.
Just goes to show how young these things get started. My son and daughter are already writing books and they’re in kindergarten and second grade. My son was even making his own graphic novel (during church, but don’t tell anyone).
by Judy
on April 8th, 2008 at 6:27 am
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When I graduated engingeering school.
That’s why, when I started writing (about 3 years ago) I knew I could do it. I knew I had to learn a whole new profession. I knew it would be hard work. I knew it would be difficult, although, it’s much harder than I anticipated. But I knew I could do it.
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Great topic, Don.
I’ve had a number of experiences like that — teachers that let me spread my creative wings and convinced me that I could do things.
I had one negative experience that still sticks in my craw. In the seventh grade we were studying tall tales and had to write one of our own. I wrote a Paul Bunyon-type story called Big Foot Benny. The teacher, whose name thankfully I forget, didn’t believe that I wrote it. I was crushed.
The teacher who has had the biggest positive influence on my life — and throughout my life — is the woman I’ve dedicated the new Morgue Mama to. Her name is Sandree LeMasters. She was my high school journalism teacher. Second semester my senior year she gave me a D for being so lazy. Two years later she helped me get a job at the local newspaper where she was then working. Several years later she introduced me to a new reporter at that paper named Carol who would turn out to be the same Carol I married. My dedicated reads thus: To Sandree LeMasters, for that D in high school journalism, and all the other help along the way.
by C.R.
on April 8th, 2008 at 7:58 am
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For me, every new thing I try starts with: I wonder if I can do that.
That’s how I started writing. That’s how I started weaving and spinning, too, how I started my pumpkin patch and my bike rides on the towpath and my bread baking (though so far, the success of that one is iffy).
by Casey
on April 8th, 2008 at 8:18 am
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I love that, CR! We all need someone to kick us in the pants sometime.
by Judy
on April 8th, 2008 at 8:18 am
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Speaking of a ‘kick in the pants’, where’s Z?
by Don
on April 8th, 2008 at 9:35 am
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Someboby looking for Z?
Zz
by Zorro
on April 8th, 2008 at 4:24 pm
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Too late to show interest, Zman.
It’s supper time.
by C.R.
on April 8th, 2008 at 4:48 pm
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Happy hour
by Don
on April 8th, 2008 at 8:59 pm
