Hi guys! This post is all about how I got into writing and I have been wanting to do a post like this for ages. Sorry, I am horrible with schedules because I was supposed to post Sunday and today is Wednesday. Anyways, on to the post.
Most writers always claim that they have been writing since they knew how to write. For the longest, I have always written, just not noticing it. It started in kindergarten. For some reason, my teachers thought that I was good enough to enter my writing in a contest at school. All that I remeber is getting on stage and reading a completely made up story of how my family and I enjoyed a day at the beach. (Don’t tell my teachers that I made it up). I’m guessing that I did pretty good because at the end of that school year, my teachers predicted what every student would be when they grew up and they gave me a certificate that said “Wonderful Writer”. Remember, that was kindergarten.
As I progressed through elementary school, I excelled with all of my classes. In first grade, I was awarded an award for getting the most points by reading books and taking tests on the books. This was out of my whole class. In second grade, we had to write a story and I wrote a story about a girl named Princess Green. Her mom was Queen Yellow and her dad was King Blue. I’m guessing that it was the best one because my teacher hung my story on the wall and nobody elses. In third grade, we were assigned to write a St. Patricks Day story and among all of the other students, my teacher read mine to the class. During all of those years, I got the same award that I had gotten in first grade and made good scores on state standarized tests when it came to reading and writing. Same thing in fourth and fifth grade.
Once I got to middle school, I wanted to be an optometrist. Why? I can’t even tell you myself.In sixth grade though, my teacher saw my writing and entered me into a writing competition. It was the first time that I thought my writing actually mattered. We took a bus to another city in our state and I was literally shaking. I looked around and saw all of my competitors that looked like a bunch of nerds. How could a girl like me win amongst all of these people? I was taken into a room along with the rest of the writers in the competition and they handed us paper, pencil, and a prompt. I can’t really remember the prompt that they gave us or what I wrote about. I can just remember me trembling as I walked on stage for awards. The people had judged our writing and I just knew that I wasn’t going to win.
“In third place,such and such.” the announcer said. It wasn’t my name.
“In second place.. insert my name here.” the announcer said.
I don’t even remember who got first place. All that I remember is me not being able to contain myself after they handed me the red, second place trophy.
After that moment, I told myself that I needed to be a writer. You are probably thinking that I let one second place trophy boost my confidence and I will tell you that it did. I knew that this was my calling.
Oddly enough, my teacher in seventh grade signed me up for the contest the next year. This time, I was here to take home the first place trophy. And sure enough, I won first place. By the way, I won first place in eighth grade too.
After those huge wins, I definetely wanted to devote my life to writing. Now, as you may know, you have to be really good to be a successful writer. I am from a small town in the South, so winning those awards may not measure how good I am as a writer. I did change my mind from being a creative writer to being a print and/or broadcast journalist because that may be a more solid income. Also, I love engaging in matters of today while also distributing my findings to the people behind their tvs, computer screens, and phones.
Now that I am in ninth grade, I know that I need to work hard to become successful when I get older. Hopefully, I can have all of these accomplishments to back me up and when I become rich and famous, I can always credit my kindergaten teachers for getting me started.