I have always been the imaginative person in my family. Since I was little, I have always been interested in the arts, such as music and drama. I don’t play an instrument, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love to listen to music. In fact, music is what helps me write, and writing is something I love to do. I use my insane imagination to create wacky dreams and write stacks of stories. My stacks of stories are so tall that they look like towers of cakes toppled on top of one another. I have been writing since the 4th grade.
I believe I must explain how much I love writing. When I first started in 4th grade, I fell in love with it. How I became interested in it, though, is a funny story. One afternoon during 4th grade, Mom went to get her hair styled and brought me along. Afterward, she said she’d take me to the YMCA for a swim, so this left me excited. When we got to the salon, though, my excitement quickly died, and everything became extremely boring. Mom said it would only take an hour to style her hair, but it ended up taking three hours! I can assure you that the first hour there was a total waste of my time. One hour felt like a million years. Finally, I became so sick and tired of waiting that I went into the busy, boring salon and approached my mother, who sat in a chair and wore a bunch of silver tinfoil over her head.
I tapped her shoulder and repeatedly asked, “Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?” I kept that going for five minutes. Eventually, I annoyed her.
She dropped her magazine and sighed, asking me, “What?”
I answered, “Mom, I’m bored. I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”
She suggested that I slip outside to the car, grab my notebook, and write in it. When she gave me this answer, I groaned. I didn’t want to write.
The years before 4th grade, I’ll admit, I was not a writer. In fact, I despised writing. However, that day at the salon, I was bored. A little writing couldn’t hurt me, right? It didn’t—it only positively scarred me for the rest of my life. The day at the salon was the day everything changed.
When I decided to pass the time with a little writing, I hobbled out to the car and gathered my notebook and pen. I then returned to the salon and sat in a chair in the lobby. I flipped to the next blank page in my notebook, which begged me to carve some words into it, and started writing. The first words I wrote were “One day.” After writing the first sentence, I had a tingling excitement—a tintinnabulation that said I am meant to write. I enjoyed this. I really enjoyed this! For the next two hours at the salon, I wrote, wrote, and wrote. I did not stop writing. Finally, when I finished my very first story, it turned out to be a full eighty pages long!
Nowadays, if people come to my house, they will witness stacks and stacks of notebooks that I have written in. For these past eighteen years, I’ve kept a record of all the stories I’ve written, and I’m now up to over 300. Wow, is my imagination really that insane? I have written stories across a range of genres, including fantasy, science fiction, adventure, and action, and I have never grown tired of it. I praise that very special day in 4th grade.
When I was in 8th grade, four years after I started writing, I participated in a talent show and shared an excerpt from my fiction story, The Ghost of Ontario. To keep this brief, it’s about a girl, Kylie Juniper, who goes on a weeklong canoe trip with her family in Ontario, Canada, and meets an Indigenous teenage boy named Ihaan who has amnesia. He acquired it ten years ago after a really bad accident on the lakes that separated him from his mother. Each story I write has a moral lesson. In The Ghost of Ontario, the lesson is “Some people are not what some people think they are.”
My friend who listened to me read the excerpt asked me afterward, “Where on Earth did you get the idea for that story?”
I replied that it was merely my imagination at work. I unfortunately didn’t win the talent show, but that doesn’t bother me. In the future, there will be plenty more for me to participate in, and hopefully, one day, I will win one. For now, though, as long as I have my computer and imagination, I don’t care if I have to wait until I’m sixty to win something.
Currently, I am writing a fantasy novel—the second in a trilogy, actually—called The Curse of Poseidon. It tells the story of Makenna Delling, a fifteen-year-old girl who is a very special type of fairy, a Metamorphic Fairy. She teams up with Merlin the Great’s apprentice, an eighteen-year-old apprentice fairy, Tracey, and Ash, an eighteen-year-old, knight-like Wizard Fairy, to learn Special Spells, spells that will help them defeat the villain of the story, the Octopus Man (A.K.A. Poseidon). This all happens after the events of the first story.
Each of the three fairies has an animal companion. For Makenna, it’s Raeven the Megabat. For Tracey, Gina the tern, and for Ash, his horse Harmony. Together, the fairies and their friends must travel to the Octopus Man’s lair, which is located deep in the Bermuda Triangle. As I mentioned before, all my stories have a moral lesson. The moral lesson in The Curse of Poseidon is that “No one can achieve a goal alone.” People always need friends who will guide them to success. There are plenty of other mini-lessons, but “No one can achieve a goal alone” is the main one.
The Curse of Poseidon is one of my favorite stories. I’m already having too much fun writing it! I’m really able to explore my imagination with this story, and it’s teaching me that I may be even more imaginative than I thought.
Writing is therapy for me. I feel like anything is possible when I write. It really helps me build my self-confidence. I love to write. I know it’s not a passion I’m going to regret having in the future. It’s who I am. As long as I get to write, I am one happy girl.
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