I was outside mowing our lawn with our non-motorized push mower. As I was working out there, I had an idea for a story. It would be another epic. I'd write about a dog trying to find his place in this world. Alright, I hear you chuckling out there. But remember now, I was twelve-years-old and in love with animals.
The dog would be a yellow Labrador named Moby, and the story would follow him as he tried to be various types of dogs---a sheep dog, lap dog, fire dog, police dog ... and those were only the first few chapters. He would fail as each one, of course. I knew even back then that without conflict you have no story! I even knew how the story would end (he was meant to be a family dog), but I never did finish that book.
Around this time was when I first started thinking about being a published author. Here's another thing for you writers to laugh at. I actually thought the way you submitted a manuscript to a publisher was to bind it all together yourself to look like a book, and only then send it out.
As I think back on these early memories of my writing, it amazes me just how long I've had the desire to write. Then there was the newspaper I started with my sister ...