The Child Prodigy

I am not one of those unrealistic people who believes in fate and destiny and all that crud, but sometimes I feel as though I am destined to write.

When my sister and I were children, our mother bought a chalkboard from a retired teacher and hung it in the garage. My sister and I would spend hours in the garage frantically scribbling on the chalkboard as we attempted to illustrate the stories we rapidly conjured together. We spoke so quickly that our hands could barely keep up. Ideas, stories, and characters filled the three-paneled chalkboard and then when it was all done, we would erase and start again. Most of our stories were about pony races and evil leprechauns, but they always entertained us.

As we grew older, our mother continued to nurture our creativity by giving us blank notebooks to write in. My sister and I would run off on our own to write and illustrate stories. Then, we would rejoin and share our stories with each other.

During high school, my sister and I continued this tradition. Every Friday, we got together in my sister's room and swapped our writings for critique. This was a special event for my sister and I. We made special snacks to go with the reading served with green tea and we lit incense and candles for ambiance. We even played appropriate background music for ambiance. After the reading, we would walk my dogs and discuss what we read.

Now that my sister and I live apart, we haven't gotten much writing done. We only talk about writing. It used to motivate me to know that as I was working on my novel, she was in the next room working on hers. Without my sister here, I feel as though writing has lost its tradition and its enjoyment. It feels more like a chore that I am forced to bear alone. I know that she would gladly read my work (if I wrote anything) but it just isn't the same.

But still, I can't help but feel as though our childhood has destined us, in some way, to both seriously pursue writing.

Why Write?

For many novice and professional writers, writing serves as a creative outlet, as well as a potential source of income. For many aspiring authors, the reason for writing is to achieve fame and fortune. But what about achieving immortality? Is that a reason to write?

For me, it is the latter. I, like many writers, view publication as a way to immortalize my words and therefore myself. I never plan on getting rich from anything I publish, but just the thought of having one reader like my work is motivating. I envision a reader purchasing my novel, long after I am dead, and taking it home. She starts to read it the moment she gets home, meaning only to read a chapter or so a night; however, she is so engrossed in my work that she can't put it down! She reads straight through to the end and is baffled by the conclusion. It is 2 a.m. but she has to tell someone about it so she wakes her sister in the next room and tells her about characters and events she has no context of until she is relieved of it. That is an experience I had with a novel so I hope someone else has it with my novel.

Basically, I have a fear of death and a desire to be immortalized. That is why I write.