An Attempt
I remember being young in my first writing class. I was six years old and I was in first grade. Like many others my age afraid to express my opinions and thoughts to those I was not comfortable with. I would often spend my time alone meandering outside in the grass. It was in that state that I found my creativity. No I could never color, I couldn’t make origami, and i couldn’t draw anything that looked remotely like a stick figure; but what I could do was imagine. My mind was taken to places only seen by animators and comic book writers. I loved the way I could put together similes that would describe the way I felt. It was the beginning of the greatest relationship I have ever had.
As I grew I slowly lost my powers to dream because they were replaced with words. Words like math, logic, and reason. I wrote very little, next to never. We were encouraged to think outside of the box but then laughed at by our peers for being different, unique, and original. Discouraged I dropped my idea of being a writer and settled for being average: an admirer of the art of english but never anything above and beyond.
Then when I was twelve I met another admirer of writing. She like myself enjoyed the sound of clicking keyboards and the way that words combined could create and sound like magic. We would write stories together and relished one another’s company. We understood the need to be weird and enjoyed our girlish stories.
We grew apart and I stopped writing all together. Bogged down by structure, concrete detail commentary commentary, 5 paragraph essays and my new high school adventures. It seemed as if there was no time for writing or childish dreams in my future. My confidence grew and I became the person I had always dreamed. I was strong, I was successful, and I WAS SAM; but something was missing. Oh yes my dreams of writing. Where were they? Abandoned, I thought I had no future in writing, no talent. It was in one of those dark days when I found my old laptop. It contained stories, ideas, and talent beyond my expectation of myself. So now I cannot let myself down. I must attempt.
Sam Hansen
50 minutes
