I don’t remember much more of it, only that my mother read most of it and said it was good. At one point he gets captured and imprisoned by goblins. It was a fantasy story, about a man wandering a great forest.
I remember sitting at the dinette of my parents boat with an old Windows 95 laptop that my step father had given me. My first serious attempt, from what I can remember must have been when I was maybe twelve years old. An idea that I sill hold dear to this day. I no longer remember what any of them contained but I remember loving the idea of creating my own stories and putting them down on paper for others to read. I remember going home and making more of them for my mother. Then, when we were done, the teacher took our work, stapled it down the middle, folded it and turned it in to our very own published books complete with hand drawn text and illustrations. My first memories of writing come from primary school – Elementary school to all of you in the states – where the teacher got us all to write stories on specially cut pieces of paper – each side of the paper divided in to two.
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