When I learned to hate writing and then learned to love it again

On Writing...

I learned to hate writing in the seventh grade. In the seventh grade, I started attending a private school in a new state and had an English teacher capable of performing sorcery on my school writing. She could take a black and white, typed book report and turn it red in the blink of an eye. My English teacher, this sorceress, Mrs. W-------, used a black magic I had never heard of called Grammar. “Although your reports are creative...” she would say, “...your grammar mechanics are atrocious!” She recommended I be placed in a remedial English class. My mom, a teacher herself, found an after school tutor instead. I stayed in Mrs. W-------’s class and continued through her eighth grade English class.

I learned to love writing again in my sophomore year of college. In the advent of the Internet and computer technology, the greatest human accomplishment came in the form of Instant Messaging - the ability to quickly share text-based messages with friends over the Internet. Out of this phenomenon grew online journals. Motivated by a happenstance negative encounter with a friend’s girlfriend and possibly Chaucer, I wrote a satirical short-story based on this personal experience. Getting the experience off my chest and out of my mind was a relief. Later, I discovered my roommate had left feedback for me on my digital journal: “Dude this is the most hilarious vulgar but really intelligent sounding thing I ever read.” It was a huge compliment for two reasons: I hadn’t been complimented on my writing since the sixth grade and my roommate wasn’t the type to give positive feedback. We were more familiar to competitive smack talk, so this was a nice change of pace.