I found a few old notebooks in my hope chest and cracked one open. The first page has a few sentences in French, the handwriting, presumably mine, far more girly and legible than my current handwriting. Deeper inside, I found several dream journal entries. I almost remember deciding to track my dreams. Really, I should have dated them for posterity. My best guess is this is my fifteen-year-old self’s notebook.
Towards the end of the notebook is where I found the most interesting entry–the beginnings of a short story (or maybe even a novel). The first line isn’t bad:
Short, punchy, dramatic. All right, fifteen-year-old Hollie. Maybe I was a prodigy and didn’t even know it!
Aaaand, then the second sentence:
As she trudged along the empty field at top speed, all she could think of was: This can’t be happening!
Oh. Oh, no. Trudged is a good verb, but…top speed? Face palm. And the punctuation? Ugh. And damn, I was excessively wordy even in my adolescence! Next few sentences:
Please God; no! Big clods of dirt split open as her Nike’s hit them in an irregular patterns.
Okay, so I obviously didn’t “get” semi-colons. The dirt clod sentence, though, I’m digging (pun intended), though it needs to be edited to “hit them in irregular patterns” or “hit them in an irregular pattern”–in the very least. Still, it’s a decent image.
I’m not going to go further, not wanting to torture myself or any readers of the blog. Let’s just say it’s not that good. Actually, it’s kind of a romance, but rapey and over-the-top melodramatic. I couldn’t even finish reading it. I’m most grateful it’s on paper–written with a pencil, even. I hate pencils. If pressed, I would have said I’ve always hated pencil. Apparently, I don’t even know myself.
Still, there’s something charming and nostalgic reading my adolescent angst story. I don’t remember writing it, which is disappointing. What I really want to know is if I had been proud of it. Had I re-read it and thought it kicked ass? I hope not. Maybe it’s better I don’t remember.
I have come a long way, but still have a long way to continue. Writing, like any skill, can always improve. I hope to never stop advancing!