I’m so glad it’s finally after New Year’s. Time always seems so slow between Christmas and New Year’s, and this year it felt even more so. I mean, I don’t mind some slow times, especially at work, but there gets to be a point when I’m ready to get moving again. Although I’m sure in a couple of months I’ll be wishing things were slow again.
I was going to share part of my very first writings involving Libby, the main character from Libby Fawcett’s Secret Blog, but, um…it was a lot worse than I remembered it being. Really, really bad. I had to stop myself from picking up my red pen and making changes all over the handwritten pages. No wonder I was never published at fifteen, like I always dreamed. (I had all these fantasies of being interviewed in Teen and Seventeen for publishing my first book at such a young age. I can see now why that never happened when I read back over my old writings.) I’ll just keep that hidden away in my closet and spare you all the horror.
But tonight I’ll dig out some of the poetry written by fourteen-year-old me. That should be fun entertainment, and you’ll get to see why I decided not to become a poetess.
Fun post – I remember daydreaming about being published in Seventeen!
I’m savoring the slo-mo time today because when tomorrow hits, it’s warp speed ahead with work and my kiddos back in school. Bet my oldest will have our Spring Break countdown started by the end of the day.
Ha! I wish I’d kept some of my teen scribblings.
Aww…I wanna see the teen writings. I look forward to the poetry. (I pretty much realized I was no poetess around age twelve…but isn’t it nice how you try everything as a kid?)
Sometimes I wish I could go back and tell my younger self, “Oh, you really don’t want to be published now. Trust me.”
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