Mom went through some of her old papers this morning. In her yearly planner from 2005, she found what appears to be the first story I ever wrote (I would’ve been six or seven). To preserve this historic document, I thought I’d share pictures (yes, there were illustrations because what little kid writes a story without illustrations?) and an easy-to-read transcript of the story itself. (I preserved all my delightful spelling and grammatical errors for the world to see.)
Oh, and in her 2004 planner she discovered a list of books I’d read that year. They included the All of a Kind Family series, the Little House series (Laura Ingalls Wilder), and the Sadie Rose series. Which is *cough* impressive for a six or five year old. But what really made my day was the note Mom put after the list…“Too many books to count”. YASSSSS.
But anyway. To get back to The First Piece of Fiction that Eva Ever Wrote.
The cat and the mouse.
The cat was with a shoe….. [I put the first line on the front cover. AUTHORS SHOULD ACTUALLY DO THIS, Y’ALL.]
And it saw a mouse. It ran after it almost had it when it went into a hole. the cat was sad but it could not git in [repeat: all mistakes have been carefully preserved]
The cat angry that the mouse have gottin away. It thoute I will get it next time so it sat at the hole and wiated, and wiated, and wiated. [I am so proud of Little Eva using the Oxford Comma before she even knew what it was.] But it did not come out. Why dos’ent it come out. The mouse was smart. [The mouse is my favorite character in this story. He was smart.]
You guys. Despite its obvious juvenile failings, this little story makes me so happy. Even back then, I was a writer! From that story I graduated to co-authored ‘novels’ with my oldest brother. (The oldest siblings in our stories always had to be twins – a boy and a girl – so that there would be gender equality. Very important to nine and eleven year olds.) Then I wrote horrible Regency fiction. (Inspired by Jane Austen.) Then medieval stuff. Then a dystopian trilogy. And so on, until I’m here, twenty years old, actively working toward traditional publication.
It’s a good feeling.
And just for the record, here’s a snippet of my current WIP, The Darkness is Past. It’ll make the comparison between my old and new writing complete.
“You’re bleeding,” Lukas said and shoved the twisted life jacket away from Sol’s shoulder. His long fingers probed the wound.
“One of the guards…he’s worse,” Sol said.
“Keep some snow on it,” Lukas said, bending down and pressing a handful of the stuff into his hands.
Sol brought it to his shoulder, gasping when the fiery cold seeped into his wound. His heart pounded from the pain. The cold.
Lukas came out of the hovercraft, supporting the bloody, unconscious guard.
Julius followed a few steps behind, carrying two bundles of supplies in his hand.
Blood water ran between Sol’s fingers. -Chapter Sixteen
So tell me: have you ever discovered pieces of your old writing? Were they good or bad? And isn’t it awesome, being able to see how far we’ve come?