My Writing History

The first day of english class, Mrs. Crawford gave us an assignment. In her strong Charlestonian accent, she said, “I want you to write about your summer vay-cation.” With one eye brow raised, she went on to explain her aim. “I want a story, a moment. Tell me something you did or happened to you." Then the beehive sporting teacher then gave us the remaining 45 minutes of class to complete the task. Looking back, I assume she wanted to gauge how hard she’d have to work.

Minutes before the bell, the teacher instructed us to finish our stories and hand them in. Standing behind her black metal desk, she smiled a knowing smile and asked for a volunteer. “Anyone willing to share their story?” she asked. I began to stare at the green carpet beneath my feet. Yeah right, I thought. But not a moment later, an eager classmate with braced teeth, dark straight hair, and wide eyes, shot her hand into the air. Mrs Crawford beamed and nodded. The girl stood up beside her desk and began to read.

For the next few minutes, the entire class was captivated by her story. She’d suffered her first breakup. And the boy immediately began dating her “best friend from church.” The narrative was as moving. And the room fell silent as the story flowed like a river in its bed. As she finished, I told myself, I’ll never be able to write like that.

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When I was 15, just starting high school, I wanted to play in the NFL. I also began to journal because I saw it in a movie. Never guessed I’d be writing into my 40’s rather than a football coach or future hall of famer. Oh the hilarious stupidity of youth. Wouldn’t change a single thing.

I hope you laugh and find encouragement in my writing. Below you will find Daily Journal entries and poems known as Abstracts.