I started writing fiction when I was a kid. To be honest, I couldn’t really give you an age, but my best guess is 7. No lie.
I was going to tell you about one of my first stories but why do that when I can let you read it? Well, mostly because it’s embarrassing but what the heck. I wrote this one when I was about 9. See if you can recognize the subtle influence of the fables I read as a child; my adult self comments are in teal:
Once upon a time, there lived in the forest a small elf. He had escaped from Santa’s workshop. (Because apparently Santa used slave labor.) Ho got into a lot of mischief. His name was Otto.
One day, Otto was sneaking through the woods when he saw a cave. When he went in, it was very dark. Then he saw four ugly faces glowing in the darkness. (Can you tell I had those glow-in-the-dark troll figurines/dolls?)
“Who are you?” Otto asked.
“We are the Trolls of the Forest,” they said. “Our names are Gary, Carol, Kyle and Patty. We guard, clean, keep, and plant the forest.” (And even as a child, I had a thing for alliteration.)
“Wow! You sure do a lot of work!” cried Otto.
So the trolls and Otto became friends. (Obviously. Friendship is so simple when you’re 9.) The next day, Otto decided to play a trick on the trolls. What he didn’t know was that trolls are sensitive. So when he dumped water on them, they started to cry. Then they walked away and Otto never saw them again.
Soon, the forest began to rot away. All the animals came to Otto and said it was his fault that the forest was rotting away. So Otto had to work day and night to restore the forest.
Moral: Playing a trick can lead to a fall.
Nice cheery story, huh? Yeah, I read a lot of fables when I was a kid. While other children grew up with Dr. Seuss and fairy tales, I grew up with The Book of Virtues (I found it much more interesting) and easy-readers about the Titanic, King Tut, and Pomeii. (I wrote about those here.)
Surely other people wrote strange stories when they were little. No? Come on, spill.