WHEN DID YOU FIRST REALIZE YOU WANTED TO BE A WRITER?
I was 7 or 8. My dad brought home a second-hand book of essays written by a 10-year-old girl named Virginia. He said she was the youngest author ever. I don’t know if that was true, but at 7 or 8, if your dad tells you something then it’s, like, a total fact.
I thought, “Hey, Virginia, why’d you wait until you were so old to write a book?” This was about 20 B.I. (Before Internet) and we still wrote with pen and paper back then. After trying a couple of ideas, I settled on a story of a girl named Alyssum who loved a Norman knight. His name I think was Jake. Or maybe Jace. He was there to give her endless compliments and to carry anything heavy.
My book was over a hundred pages and very boring so I never finished. Honestly, the best parts were when I described her yellow velvet dress for two whole pages. It sounded divine (Jace adored it on her). Years later, I still love writing and pretty dresses. I didn’t complete a book as young as Virginia but starting one made me realize that I could write myself the best clothes and the nicest friends, with all of them complimenting me for my amazing cheekbones. By the time I realized my dad didn’t, in fact, know everything about everything, I was learning that if you write something, it’s like, a total fact.