In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Salad Days.”
When I was in 3-5 grade, I wrote detailed stories/fantasies on a sheet of lined paper in indiscernible handwriting (so no one could read it) and stashed it behind my white chic dresser. It gave me such a high to write those stories, but it wasn’t the act of writing it, it was the pleasure the vision of the story gave me in my head.
Writing was so easy then because I didn’t put any pressure on myself. It was just fun and I could write for an hour straight, easily. Until my little hand cramped. I used to win all the writing awards in school! Even my peers expected it of me. I would get little chocolates and things as a reward.
I remember speculating deeply about the specifics of the Disney cartoon movie of Peter Pan. I loved the concept of Neverland and how you got there, Peter’s shadow, his sidekick Tinkerbell, his ‘normal’ friends Wendy and her brothers, the boys, the evil Captain Hook, all of it. I was probably only 5!
I started publishing stories online at 12 and even established a good following for one. My grammar was mediocre but my ideas were fantastic.
Now I have such a firm mental block on writing anything, it’s devastating.
I miss the ‘good old days’…