Day 369: The Write Stuff.

"In the Library" - 1974

One of my favorite students - a second-grader named Jackson - came running out to my car today to tell me he was a finalist in a district-wide writing competition. The story, about a boy who changes places with a macaw and then doesn't know what to do when the macaw refuses to change back, was inspired by his summer trip to Brazil, and the friendship he formed with a macaw that lived in the hotel's outdoor lobby.

When Jackson found out his name had been printed on the district website, he looked at me and said - quite seriously - "I guess people are going to be asking for my autograph." (The kid just kills me. Later in today's class, when asked to write a brief biography of himself, Jackson's paragraph began: "I have faith in God. I believe in science. Also I like Dreyer's Double Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream.")

I completely understood Jackson's exuberance over his writing success. It's truly a thrilling feeling when someone (let alone a lot of someones) responds to something you write.

When I was 11 years old, my elementary school spent big bucks on a new library, and to get everyone excited, they offered a cash prize - and publication in some silly kid's magazine - for the best student poem about the new digs. The librarian (oh-so beautiful Miss Northwood) took me on a tour, after which I sat down and wrote my poem. I remember Miss Northwood reading it over my shoulder and laughing, impressed. It was music to my ears.

That night, on my parents' typwriter, it took dozens of tries before I got off an error-free copy. I won the contest, and the poem was published.

The poem was awful. Really truly awful. Jackson's macaw story is a whole lot better.

But that's really not the point. The point is how that dumb poem stands as one of the early milestones in my career as a writer. It helped solidify my love of writing.

Listening to Jackson today - hearing his confidence, how much he loves to write - made me smile.