The very first thing I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a writer.
I don’t remember the exact moment the love affair begin, I just know that I was a kid in love with stories. Especially penning them.
Back in the day, when computers weren’t really a thing yet (if that doesn’t make me sound old, I don’t know what does), I’d lay in my daybed (yes, I had one of those) and write until my hand ached.
I’d fill up notebook after notebook with half-finished stories (I was never too great at finishing them) and read each one to my parents and my Aunt Peggy.
It seems even then, I not only had a burning desire to write, but to share those words with others.
When I reflect on that – on those notebooks and that daybed and my attentive parents – I can’t help but marvel at the way God plants passions and gifts inside each one of us long before we know what will come of them.
I had no idea I’d grow up to be an author of Christian novels.
I had no idea that one day, I’d get to hold those novels in my hand or share those novels with readers like you.
I didn’t know all the hard work that would be involved.
I just knew that writing was something I loved.
Let’s Talk: If you’re a writer, when did you first fall in love with words? If you’re not, what gifts and passions has God planted in your heart?
I’m so honored by this article in Publisher’s Weekly!
Stay tuned for the second installment of my NYT Best Selling book reviews, next Monday. I’ll be reviewing the first 50 pages of The Casual Vacancy by JK Rowling, from a reader’s perspective and a writer’s.
I fell in love with words when I was 6, when I realized I could read better than every kid in the class. Dick and Jane had zero life skills. Really. All you can do is run and play with Spot?
I started an online journal/blog about 12 years ago and now have a Blogger blog. But the love of story telling? Forever.
If you’re a writer, when did you first fall in love with words?
I am a writer at heart! I write like I breathe (that’s how much I love it and have a need to perform it). I first fell in love with words at age 9. My grandparents babysat me and my brother and one day while my grandma was cooking in the kitchen, my grandpa told us we were going to play a game where we make up a story and share it audibly. My grandpa who worked as an accountant but had a love for storytelling, went first, then my brother and I. I created a story called “Sisters” that I loved so much that I decided when I went home to spend my entire summer vacation typing it out on the computer and printing it out and then binding it like a book with staples before illustrating the story by drawing a picture on the blank left page (opposite of the right page where the words were typewritten)…and my writing hobby took off from there!
I felt a strong drive to pursue writing in college so I was an English major but when I found out that it didn’t show me HOW to write and fine-tune my craft, I chose to study Print Journalism and fell in love with the interview and photography.
SO that’s my story!
Loved this blog post and as a writer, can totally relate! 🙂
Hi, Katie! I wrote a blog post on how my love of writing began. Here it is:
In the first grade I had an assignment to write three sentences about the stairs in my home. Pretty cut and dry, right? Well . . . not for me. Because the stairs weren’t just stairs. And they weren’t made of just boring old wood, either. They were made of golden fish scales. If you stepped on the third stair, a secret slot opened. And in that slot, there was a key . . .
Of course a story this grand needed illustrations. But not just pencil drawings, oh no. Color. This required lots and lots of color. Happiness spread over me, like the taste of the perfect pb&j. This feeling was euphoric, even much better than when I got to tie the pretend cardboard shoes! The world faded away, like I had my own rectangular eraser.
Until Mrs. Winowitch happened by.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Although the name Winowitch sounds about as welcoming as rickets on a pirate ship in June, this was a teacher who was exemplary. I always think of her with the greatest fondness and know without a doubt that she cared a great deal for me.
However, the way she looked down her nose at me that day is forever brandished in my mind. Surprise crossed her features as she stood beside my desk. And then a look that bordered on constipation. I was being very naughty. Very naughty, indeed. She promptly snatched my paper away and held it in front of the class as an example of what not to do.
I’ve often thought about this incident, and what I would say to Mrs. Winowitch if I could. It might go a little something like this:
Dear Mrs. Winowitch,
I’m still very naughty. Very naughty, indeed. I’m afraid “the incident” all those years ago had the reverse affect. Allow me to confess—I tell lies for fun and profit. That’s right. I write fiction. And it’s so much fun. You see, when I’m bored I use this clever instrument called imagination. It’s so helpful at times. Like when I’m standing in the post office line and I imagine everyone’s hair spontaneously falling out. And how that would look, all those different colors on the floor. But the best part would be the cries of outrage. And when the guy who used to have the mullet slipped on the poodle-permed fro. Tee-hee . . . I digress.
This thing called imagination usually serves me well, except those times when I’m the only one laughing in the room. I do tend to have the oddest black-outs sometimes. The rectangular eraser comes back and suddenly I’m in England or Jerusalem or Abu Dhabi. Yes, people do grow weary with me. Especially when they’ve been talking to me for five minutes and I have no idea what they’ve said. But, hey! That’s just the hazards of the profession. Regardless, my sincerest thanks are due to you. You inadvertently set me on the writer’s path.
Kind regards,
Brandy
🙂
Before that, I used to love it when my grandmother would read a picture dictionary to me. Every time she got to the writer entry, I remember pausing. Something about the picture fascinated me . . . And here I am, thirty years later, still loving stories and resembling that picture from all those years ago–crumpled papers and too many tea cups lying around.
It is fun to look back and see all the pathway stones God put along the way. Thanks for the question, Katie. I haven’t thought about all that in a while. 🙂
wow, God must be speaking that to hearts everywhere today. I just spent the morning contemplating “vocation”, and God’s calling on our lives. I couldn’t seem to get it out of my head. Sooo, my next question is, if God is reminding us today of our First Loves, how are we glorifying God with them?
I didn’t know I wanted to be a writer until later. I was a big reader. I read everything in sight in 4th grade. In high school, I wrote speeches and thought that I might write nonfiction some day. I majored in journalism. A professor my junior year of college assigned us to write a short story. I think that’s where my love of writing fiction was born.
I totally had a daybed, too, and would read and read and read…and knew I wanted to write stories, too. I did a lot of story-writing growing up, usually hilarious orphan/pioneer/covered wagon type stories. But it wasn’t until a few years after college that I really got serious about writing a novel.
Yep, I’m a lot like you. I used to snatch a bunch of computer paper, fold it in half, and staple it, then draw and write stories. I took creative writing in high school, but decided at that point I didn’t want to write books, because I wasn’t creative enough and there was too much competition. I pursued journalism and worked as an editor/business writer for five years. When I got my master’s in English, I took a fiction writing class for fun…and fell back in love. It was like coming home. I love how God worked it all out, preparing me even though I didn’t know I was being prepared.
It’s funny what CJ said above. I was in 5th grade (10 years old) and my english teacher had us a write a story and we got to put a bookcover on it, covered with a scrap of wallpaper and my (dorky) picture on the front. I tresured that book and knew one day I would have a real published book. That dream faded for many years but God has stirred the dream in my again. He is faithful.
And Katie, I totally did the same thing…wrote until my hand ached!
I wanted to be a vet.
But then I learned math was involved. It was always there but it struck me in earnest in college.
~ Wendy
I once heard you should choose your career based on things you did when you were 10 yrs. old. Because at 10, one is filled with such passion. I loved penmanship and drawing back then. And now oh so many years later, I’m still drawing letters.
I’m a writer. All I ever wanted to be was a nurse, and I am one. But I struggled as a young reader. It wasn’t until my freshman year in H.S. that I had a teacher who required journaling, and J. Oakes books came out that my love affair with words began.