Writing Without Knowing It

So in keeping with the pseudo promise/contract I made with myself in my last post, I am writing on this blog and will try to do so daily. Some will be short, others long, and many of them will be seemingly random, rudimentary rants of a rather ridiculous nature. See, barely the second post and I am already relying on alliteration. This will definitely be interesting. 

Anyhow, I wanted to try to have a theme per day that relied on an alliterative mnemonic device like Flash Fiction Fridays and Monday Memories. Actually  those are not too bad so I guess will start with those and figure out other names for the rest of the week. Again, this is something I am trying and I do expect to fail considerably for the foreseeable future. Please, if you are reading this be patient and expect this to slowly develop. However, you can expect for these posts to be rather random at times because that is just kind of how my brain works. If you ever have the pleasure, or misfortune depending on your prerogative, you will understand.

So the following post was intended to be a Monday Memories post which would have been published yesterday, but I used yesterday’s post as more of a finality of thoughts and purpose which will probably be more a Tuesday or Thursday post…maybe…we’ll see. Anyhow, this kind of writing will be reserved for Mondays from now on and will basically be a trip down memory lane of events and stories that influenced who I am and my writing to an inexplicable level. Hopefully, you anonymous reader will enjoy these ruminations and might find some substance in them. On to the show!


First Time 

Awkward. Awkward and clumsy would be more accurate for my first time. Awkward and clumsy but filled with youthful naivety and eagerness. My inexperience definitely showed as it poured out of me but I wanted to make sure I at least finished what I set out to do. It wasn’t great, it was barely good, but after some effort I was happy with the results. I think.

(Oh and just to be clear, I am talking about the first time I ever really wrote something you sick perverts and weirdos. Though to be honest the preceding paragraph could also be applied to my “first time”. To a lot firsts, actually. Huh… Digression OVER!)

As kids we were taught the basics of academic writing in grade school, at least in Texas. My teacher, Mrs. Leinhart, thought the best way to teach us kids how to analyze essays was to learn how to actually write them. As we were all still pretty young, we learned the four simplest forms of essays: how-to, descriptive, compare/contrast, and narrative. Really, if you could write a descriptive essay then you were set for how-to and compare/contrast. It was the narrative that held the most promise and difficulty for our inexperienced minds and voices. 

I was, as my wonderful peers liked to call me, a bit of a “Teacher’s Pet”. (Frankly, I never understood why that was so insulting. I am being ostracized because I actually like learning and am good at school? Fine. I didn’t want to play with you guys anyway.) I did not disappoint given my grade school reputation. In actuality, I  even surprised myself. 

Mrs. Leinhart gave us our assignment on a Monday; 3 – 5 narrative pages on any topic of our choosing. We had two weeks to finish our last assignment of the semester. Of course, most of us didn’t begin to work on this assignment until about two or three days before it was due. I usually did the same thing, but for some reason I decided to start early (okay so the Teacher’s Pet label might have been accurate). I swear I had never started an assignment when it was due and would usually procrastinate to the last second before doing any schoolwork, but for some reason i just had to start writing this narrative piece. 

I had been on a Goosebumps and Strange Matters kick at the time devouring the library’s small selection, so when giving the free reins of any topic I went for a R. L. Stine inspired horror story. I don’t remember the exact details of the tale and to this day I wish I knew what happened to that short story. What I do recall is that it involved a kid learning his best friend is some sort of monster who has secretly been training him to fight and kill monsters like him. Eventually, it ends with this 8 or 9 year old kid killing his friend who has transformed into this giant amorphous worm creature and the rest of the monsters disappearing due to the death of their newest offspring. I also remember that the story was eventually about 22/25 written pages long. 

Beyond the actual story, I recall how much fun and enjoyment I got from writing this short story. It was the first time I actually had fun in school. For some reason I related the sense of enjoyment and accomplishment to school and not the story. Looking back now, it was definitely the writing that spoke to me and I wish I had realized it back then. Still it was the first thing I truly wrote, but it would not be for quite some time that the thought of writing really crossed my mind. That is a story for another time…


The Sentry Gathers… 


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