How Did I Get Here?

How did you become a writer? What influenced you? Those questions have been popping up on various blogs this last week.

What came to my mind was the dusty second floor library where I spent many long mornings waiting for the first bell.

See, every day I rode with my dad on his way to teach at the local high school, then I walked the six blocks to my own middle school. There, in the cool, large-windowed library, I'd devour Agatha Christie books, sample classics, and check out new releases. It's funny -- looking back at all the hours I spent there, I couldn't tell you the name of the librarian, or what she/he looked like! When I entered through the glass doors of that room, it was only me and the books.

Earlier, in elementary, I'd made my way through great stories like Bridge to Terebithia, From the Mixed-Up Files of Basil E. Frankweiler, Black Beauty and everything by Judy Blume. I loved those books. In fact, a friend named Vanessa and I had contests about which books we'd read, how many pages, and that kind of thing. My favorite teacher had reading rewards that involved lunch with her at McD's! I always won. Sometimes, her white-haired husband, an ex-navy officer, would meet us there to eat. It was so amazing, seeing that my teacher had a life outside of school. When I graduated sixth grade, she gave me a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull the ultimate seventies encouragment book. I loved her.

So all of that, those memories, those books, and of course, my English teacher father led me to the writing life, by way of the film life. I'd actually been accepted to a masters in Film program in California and was all set to move, but then I met my dashing Alpha-male hero. My course took a sharp turn, but I ended up back in storytelling where I belong.

It's not so different in a way. When you write a novel you are the director, producer, and editor. (At least at first) It's a group effort later.

But the beginning... the drafting ....

The solitary hours at the writing desk are like those silent hours in my childhood library -- filled with just me and the story.

Yum.