Everyone gets their start somewhere. Everyone has a dream, a passion, a love. I'd like to think that my love of writing began in earnest when I was in fourth grade at St. Luke's Grade School. It was then that I started creating short, short stories and somehow over time I've managed to hold on to them. My mom actually had them in her possession for years and gave them to me a few years ago. I've scanned them and will use them in this and future posts.
I can remember vividly writing these and even had my homeroom teacher, Sister Patricia ask if she could put them in her classroom "drawer of special things," or something of that nature. Evidently I feared copyright infringements even back then because I told her I'd rather not. (It was either that or an unhealthy dose of humility.)
As you'll see over time when I post these stories, most of them have a clear moral, or lesson to them. It seems I was a judgmental, or self-righteous child and was out to teach my readers a lesson about what the right thing to do was. This is a character flaw that I've carried my whole life, ironically enough. At least I know it now and admit it's an issue.
I also notice that there's a slant toward adventure and natural disasters in all of my stories. It hearkens back to my love of all things outdoors; camping, fishing, and the like. But I also think my obsession with it was partly attributable to the disaster movies of that era (stories written in 1971-1972), like Poseidon Adventure, etc. Add to this that boys that age just like death and mayhem, I think.
The story below is about a couple of boys on a camping trip. This was something I always dreamed of, namely going off on a camping adventure with brothers or friends and no adults. Perhaps the ending was my way of rectifying why I never had the courage to carry it out.
All I know is I loved writing these stories as much then as I do the stories I write now. It seems to be a good fit, and I think I'll run with that.
Enjoy the 30 second adventure.