A few years ago, four I believe, I decided to be a writer. It was most likely inspired by my brother Thomas writing a book.
My first book was three chapters long, thirteen pages. It was the dumbest book in the universe, and I spent absolutely no time on it. But I was only eight.
I probably started about twenty books, got a page or two into them, and deleted them. A couple of years ago, I got extremely far in a fantasy, 125 pages. And then I accidentally deleted it. I moped for a few days, vowing to myself to not write for months, and then went back on my starting a new book every other day pattern.
Summer before last, I read all of the Narnia books. And, as it was with so many of the others, I started a new book, where two kids find a secret passage and a secret world and all that jazz. A few pages into it, Thomas asked me what the genre was. I asked him, as I always did, what a genre was. (Come on, I was only like 10.) And he said it was what kind of book, mystery, fantasy, the lot. And in my mind, and idea triggered. 'Mystery,' I said. 'What kind of mystery?' he asked. I didn't know what he meant. He said, 'You know, abduction, murder, thievery...?' Another idea. 'Abduction,' I said.
I got about 115 pages in. Then I decided to start over, on my 750 words. Two, three pages a day, it'd be great. And that's where I am now. Except I haven't written in a week because of my hand. I can still type obviously, but it's a pain.
Just thought I'd write about it so that all my millions of readers would be encouraged to write more. Not really.
My first book was three chapters long, thirteen pages. It was the dumbest book in the universe, and I spent absolutely no time on it. But I was only eight.
I probably started about twenty books, got a page or two into them, and deleted them. A couple of years ago, I got extremely far in a fantasy, 125 pages. And then I accidentally deleted it. I moped for a few days, vowing to myself to not write for months, and then went back on my starting a new book every other day pattern.
Summer before last, I read all of the Narnia books. And, as it was with so many of the others, I started a new book, where two kids find a secret passage and a secret world and all that jazz. A few pages into it, Thomas asked me what the genre was. I asked him, as I always did, what a genre was. (Come on, I was only like 10.) And he said it was what kind of book, mystery, fantasy, the lot. And in my mind, and idea triggered. 'Mystery,' I said. 'What kind of mystery?' he asked. I didn't know what he meant. He said, 'You know, abduction, murder, thievery...?' Another idea. 'Abduction,' I said.
I got about 115 pages in. Then I decided to start over, on my 750 words. Two, three pages a day, it'd be great. And that's where I am now. Except I haven't written in a week because of my hand. I can still type obviously, but it's a pain.
Just thought I'd write about it so that all my millions of readers would be encouraged to write more. Not really.
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