Something I've been pondering a fair bit lately--in part because I continue to watch my distant past stumble into my present via the magical powers of Facebook--is just how fully formed we are as people at an early age. Sure, we grow up, we get better hair, we (hopefully!) mature and grow wiser as the decades turn. But overall, I'm realizing that the core kind of person we are--including what we treasure, fear, and define ourselves by--really doesn't shift all that drastically from who we were as children to who we are as adults. Some proof of this fact? Not too long ago, my parents, who recently moved, sent me some files that they'd extracted from an ancient computer. Their most amusing discovery was a dreadfully earnest, terribly overwritten original story by yours truly. And if you must know: it was about a Christmas Elf figurine named Jingle who desperately wanted to become a Christmas gift. You'll be happy to hear that he indeed found a home, with exactly the sort of Angelic Crippled Girl that you'd expect to find in a knock-off Victorian-esque Christmas tale. (The Bird's Christmas Carol, anyone?) The clincher of it all? Though I have no memory of actually writing it, my story was oh-so-craftily saved to the shared family computer under the file name "AlgebraProject" (Because, really, who would ever think THAT file would be interesting enough to bother opening it?)
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Nearly two decades later, I'm still fascinated by stories and their telling. And I'd still MUCH rather be thinking about stories than doing Algebra homework. Wouldn't everyone?
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4 comments:
It does amaze me about how little people change. I don't even see it in myself a lot of the times. For example, I always thought that I was a rather shy, unwilling to take chances kind of person when I was younger, but since I was a teenager, I broke out and have done some amazing things--travel, writing, new adventures that I never would have believed I would grow up and have the courage for in, say, elementary school. When I comment on this, though, my friends and family who knew me then say they always knew I'd do those things. I guess you are who you are, even if you can't see it within yourself.
Indeed. It's been twenty years or so since I first tried writing a story. And I'm still terrible at it!
Oh ma heck. Now I am reminded of a truly cringeworthy WESTING GAME ripoff I tried to write at age eight or nine . . .
I'm sure I have a few "AlgebraProject" files lurking on my own computer.
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