Why I Write

the story of how I became a writer

A Little Back-Story

It all began in the third grade, shortly after my family had moved from Arizona to Texas. I attended Lamkin Elementary in the Cypress-Fairbanks Independent School District in the suburbs to the north of Houston. Every year the school district held a story writing contest. Each child was given a sheet of paper with a picture at the top and empty lines below. We had one hour to write a story inspired by the picture. I don't remember much about writing the story, but I do remember a few weeks later hearing the announcement over the school's P.A. system saying I had won the story writing contest for the entire district.

At first I felt terrified. I didn't like getting all that attention, hearing my name announced to the whole school. I looked to my teacher, who jumped up and down and exclaimed with happy excitement, "I knew it, I knew you'd win!" I stared at her, trying to comprehend what was going on. How had she known? Had she read my story? Was it really that good? I remember feeling like I was floating as I walked to the office to get my award, drifting on the wonderful, heady sensation of having done something really great without hardly trying.

That year I also discovered The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.

In fourth grade, just so that I didn't think it was a fluke, I won district first place in the story writing contest again. I decided that I was going to be a writer, and that I was going to write magical adventure stories like The Hobbit.

My family moved shortly after that, and so I never got to enter that story writing contest again. But the damage was done. I had got it into my head that I was going to be a writer.

Still Writing After All These Years

After my initial success, I waded through years of little encouragement. My teachers all seemed to think I could write well, but sending stories to Cricket Magazine and to other contests for young writers proved fruitless. In Junior High I wrote a novelette that earned me a good grade, but when I told my teacher I wanted to try and get it published she looked so skeptical that I gave up the idea at once.

In High School I liked to spend all of Saturday morning with a notebook on my lap, scribbling away until my mother told me to stop writing and clean my room. So I would clean for a while, but that notebook always called me back before long!

In college I wrote a short story for an honors English class. The class had focused on fantasy writers like C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. We watched "The Purple Rose of Cairo" and had a telephone conference with Orson Scott Card. It was one of the highlights of my college experience. To top it all off, when I got my short story back, the professor had written a little note on the bottom of the last page of my story: "What a wonderful idea. Incredibly intricate, well done. You could expand this to make a reasonable series."

A scrap of encouragement! After all those years! I gobbled it up.

I Write Because I Can't Stop Writing

I'm serious! I can't stop. I tried. Once, a few years after graduating from college I decided not to write fiction for an entire year. Instead of going away after a few months, the desire to write grew into a sullen ache. Even with no outlet, the parade of characters and stories kept tramping through my mind until I thought I was going to burst. And then, worst of all, when the year was up and I started writing again, my writing was horrible! It was atrocious! I was badly out of shape. It took a long time to regain my technique.

The good thing about that year without writing was that I read a lot of books; nearly a novel a day, just like I had back in Junior High. I also started telling stories aloud to my children and whoever else would listen. And most important, I learned that I can't stop writing.

And after I started writing again, I knew it was time to get serious: Time to publish! I thought about submitting that story I had written in college to a magazine, but in looking it over I decided that my professor was right, it could be a series of novels, not just one little short story. I pulled out a different short story I'd written later and submitted that one instead.

My story was accepted! It was third grade all over again.

Which Brings us Down to Here and Now

And here I am eight years later. I've sold anecdotes, articles, and short stories, but that elusive publishing contract for my novel still hangs in the far off mists of the future. I have perfect confidence that if I keep writing and revising I will eventually get there. One day I will walk into a book shop, pick my book up off the shelf and riffle through the pages, drinking in that distinctive scent of newly printed paper.

In Conclusion

I'm sorry this page has turned into a long-winded autobiography. Let me sum up in brief:

• I write because I can't stop writing. I love it!
• I write because people like to read what I write.
• I write because I want my children and grandchildren to have a few more good books to read.
• I write because everyone needs stories. Stories are our roadmap to life. Stories are one of the greatest gifts we can give to one another.