Tonight, I took a moment to look back through some of my old writings—nothing special, just some shorts I whipped up in record time for this writing contest or that literary magazine during my first years away at college. None of them made it. And I can see why: they’re not great. They’re mostly cheese,…
I so rarely write non-fiction. It’s just not where my heart lies, as a creator. But occasionally SOMETHING will happen to me that seems worth re-telling… Here’s a memory from my senior year of high school in my small home town, where there was very little for a teenager to do. I originally wrote it in the hopes of submitting a collection of short stories to an anthology contest, but I stopped once I found myself shelling out a lot of half-hearted pieces–things I wrote for the sake of submitting for publication, and not for the sake of telling a story. Maybe if I’m ever famous enough to warrant writing a memoir it will be worth revamping… Until then, it’s just a nice memory to relive. One that I’d forgotten about until now.
— C.M.