Dreams

The Beginning Of It All

A/N - This might seem choppy but I am trying to remember everything to tell you about me since I am a very forgetful person. Also, since I am writing this in real time, I will add in little comments because remembering these events brings about feelings. I also might go into some personal stuff so warning. I hope you enjoy how I got into writing. Love ya.

For me, writing started in Elementary School. I went to Stratton Elementary School. I always had a very active imagination so I would always see monsters or shape in the shadows at night. So when I was learning how to write, I decided to create stories. I couldn't speak until I was 3 and when I was finally able to speak, I would always try and pronounce every letter in the word so I needed a speech coach. Even though I couldn't speak, I would always read and I would read like 1 or 2 levels above my grade level. I remember finishing 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' in around a week. So that didn't restrict me from writing. Yes, it was an obstacle but I over came it.

All of my teachers were wonderful people. They always encouraged me to write and read and to really challenge myself since I was more advanced than the other kids in my class. They always challenged me to do my best in everything that I did. They helped me get into writing with all the writing prompts that we had to do and some of them even helped me with my writing who I thank because if it wasn't for them, I probably wouldn't have even thought I would get this far with writing.

I was and still am self conscious about my works so I didn't really like it when my family would read my stories because in my perspective, it was like letting them into my soul and mind and I wasn't really close with my family at the time to let them read my stories.  Not even my brother who I was super close to at the time. He was probably the only person in our household that understood me and that I can confide in. However, there were a few people that I did allow to read my stories.

One teacher that was really memorable was Mr. West. He was a great teacher that challenged me in my writing and explore different writing style and to read. I would have him read some of the stories that I had created and he would give me feedback about everything that needed to be addressed in my writing style. You could say he was my very first critic and editor and I would always go to him when I wanted an opinion on my writing. I will always remember how great of a person he was.

Another person was my next door neighbor. He would also critic me about my work. He also worked as a teacher up at a university though he was a spanish teacher. He would encourage me to write more and read other people stories to see the different writing styles and to gain knowledge about writing. The different genres and story line and how writing was endless.

The first fictional story that I can remember writing is called 'The Chocolate Factory.' It was supposed to be a fun first writing exercise that got me into writing but now that I read it, there was an underlying message that I knew at the time. That I didn't really get until I was older and lived life a little longer.

My family was poor growing up so we didn't always have what we wanted but we always had what we need. So with this story, there are two kids from two different families but were friends. One day, they lose their cats so they go out and look for their kittens. On their search, they find a chocolate factory and they had decided that they now owned the chocolate factory. While owning the chocolate factory, they became really greedy and wanted more. Wanted more money, more fame, more everything. So they went on a treasure hunt. Looking for the map and then looking for the treasure and everything.

Because of how greedy they were, word got back to their families and their mother, furious with how greedy they were, came and dragged them back home. Giving them a whole lecture about being greedy and being grateful for what they had. Then they were grounded and sent to their rooms. Inside their rooms, were the kittens that they had started out looking for. That they thought that they had lost. With this realization of not being greedy, they were grateful that their kittens were at home, safe and sound and they were not greedy again.