I have always wanted to be a writer.
I remember clanking out the intro to a rather...imaginative story on my dad's old Windows 95 computer. (You know, the one with the blue background and no font options?) But I digress...This world-changing intro focused on an animal so scroungy, so scruffy looking, that you couldn't tell whether it was a dog, cat, or some mutant from Mars. An ingenious concept for a 10-year-old, I thought. However, shortly after I had begun the masterpiece that would catapult me to the heights of fame along with Carolyn Keene and Dr. Seuss, it somehow vanished (read: was deleted) from my parents' computer.
When I was 13, our English class was assigned to read Z for Zachariah. In case you are not aware, Z for Zachariah is a book with a post-apocalyptic setting. The main character and her town survived the nuclear holocaust due to the unique valley in which they lived. It appeared to have its own weather pattern or system that kept out all the nuclear radiation that destroyed the rest of civilization. After finishing the book, our next assignment was to write a sequel to the book. What happened to the main character? (I'm trying not to give too much away here in case you've never read the book.) Most people in the class agreed my sequel (also lost on the Windows 95 machine) was the best.
As I grow older, I find myself having great ideas and wanting to form story lines, but something always holds me back. What if it's a waste of time? What if no one likes it? And then I realized...it doesn't matter if no one likes it. What matters is that I do it and I like it.
So I believe I will begin trying my hand at writing again. I put it on the internet, so now I have to do it. :)