13 Feb
When Did Your Love Affair with Writing Begin?
Posted in Literature, Process, Reading, Writing
This week, as the build-up to Valentine’s Day saturates the world with candy hearts and long-stemmed roses, I thought it might be fun to think about how we found our love for writing. I became a writer at this little school pictured on the left–The Caedmon School in New York City–and this is how it happened.
I was in first grade. It was library time and I had slipped away from the picture book area to the section with floor-to-ceiling shelves that housed the “big kid books.” I pulled a book from the shelf (I believe it was Lloyd Alexander’s The Black Cauldron) and stumbled my way through the first sentence or two. Sliding the book back into place, it occurred to me: I could read this book. I looked around the room and thought: I could read all of these books. (OK, with some of them I might have needed some help sounding out the words, but still.)
That’s when panic struck. If I read all the books in the school library, there would be no books left to read and I’d be bored forever. You must understand, while the library was rather small–nothing more than a large room with bookshelves–to me it was gigantic. I thought the books in the school library were all the books in the world.
Back in the first grade classroom, our teacher Miss H must have noticed that I was out of sorts because she asked me what was wrong. I told her.
The next day, Miss H introduced a new activity for the classroom. It was nothing more than a metal canister full of sharpened pencils and two plastic paper trays–one filled with blank lined paper, the other empty. Miss H explained that we were to write stories on the blank paper and draw pictures for a cover, then place them in the empty tray. Each day she would staple the pages together to make a book (a real book!) and she would read them to the class at story time.
Immediately my fears from the day before subsided. Whenever I ran out of books to read, I could just write my own. And then I could read them. I would never be bored again! (Ah, the beauty of a first-grader’s logic.)
And this, my friends, is how I became a writer. I fell in love with writing because I loved reading, first and foremost. It was my love of literature, of getting lost in a story that pushed me to start writing in the first place. I suppose it’s true what they say that all writers must be readers. In my case, I was a reader first, and the writing came later.
How did you become a writer? Was there one particular incident, person or place that helped spark your writing? Please share your story in the comments!
Comments on this post
It’s funny you posted this–you should sign up for the Origins blogfest, going on today (feb 13th)–link is on my blog, but it’s posts about how we became writers!
http://www.bookinamonthmom.blogspot.com
And isn’t it amazing how many teachers were crucial to fostering these budding young writers?
13. February - 10:33 amSo cute!
13. February - 4:58 pmWhat a wonderful way for a teacher to handle your fear of running out of books! Kudos to her for seeing the opportunity and seizing the moment!
13. February - 6:01 pmBeautiful post, Gabi!
I’ve read voraciously all my life, too, but didn’t find my voice until 3 years ago. Full story here:
http://thebiglifeproject.com/2012/01/19/why-im-a-writer-not-a-welder/
Wish I’d known about the Origins Blogfest sooner!
I can’t wait to hear stories of how the world of books and writing opens to your son–or how he opens it.
14. February - 11:06 amGreat Origins story. I am now following you on twitter (I don’t really know much about tweeting) but I did not see a place on your blog to follow you. I did add you to my google plus circle. Nice to meet you. I found you though the Origins blogfest.
14. February - 5:42 pmThank you all for the great comments! As a teacher, I’ve always looked back fondly on this story because the teacher was so great and came up with such an innovative idea.
14. February - 6:20 pm.
Melissa–You mentioned I don’t have a place to follow the blog, that’s because Google Friend Connect was acting up on me so I took it down. The best way to follow is to sign up for the mailing list. You’ll get a weekly newsletter (no spam, promise!) and also a free workbook download!
Gabriela, thank you for DIY MFA. I enjoyed the word-picture you painted of your child self in a library that seemed to contain all the books in the world. I was right there.
I taught myself to read at the age of three or four because I was desperate to claim the realm of books for myself. In third grade, Mrs. English assigned us a poem about spring. The teacher from next door came in just as we finished. She and Mrs. English read my poem, looked right at me, and smiled. Mrs. English said to the class, “Here is a true poet.”
I wish I still had that first poetry attempt. Even more, I wish I could tell Mrs. English what a lifelong gift she gave me.
15. February - 11:35 amWhat a lovely story! It’s true that teachers can make such a huge impression on us as young writers. This is one of the many reasons I love teaching writers at any age… that magic of discovery that happens when students realize that they are, indeed, writers.
15. February - 12:36 pmI love how you panicked when you thought you might run out of books to read
How lucky Ms. H was there to teach you all about writing and wipe your fears away. Thanks for sharing your story.
Great to meet you on this blogfest.
your newest follower,
15. February - 2:40 pmNutschell
http://www.thewritingnut.com