thoughts
My last post was kind of heavy, and the one I’ve been working on is super dark, so I’ve decided to talk about something more enjoyable today. I met a real-life published author last week, which brings my interactions with published writers up to a whopping total of five. But that meeting brought back memories of the first author I met, way back in the 5th grade.
Quick side note: I used to have an anonymous blog, which I haven’t posted on for a few years. For those of you who read that one, you’ve heard this story before. For the rest of you, please enjoy. I have five or six large crates filled with notebooks, most of which contain half-finished stories that I’ve since abandoned. I keep these in my childhood bedroom at my parents’ house, where they are, for the most part, ignored by everyone. But every once in awhile, I dig through the crates to see if I can stumble upon something interesting. Unfortunately, none of my old stories deserve to ever see the light of day again, but there is one thing in those crates worth rereading. It’s a small, bright yellow book called How to Write a Story That’s Not Boring by John Reynolds Gardiner. If you’ve never heard of John Reynolds Gardiner, proceed to your nearest library immediately and check out Stone Fox. It’s written for older elementary students, but it’s still a great book, so I don’t think the librarians will judge you too much. Unless you linger in the children’s section after you’ve checked out the book, in which case you deserve their judgement. Seriously. Just get your book and be on your way. Anyway… When I was in the 5th grade, Mr. Gardiner was going around the country on a speaking tour, stopping specifically in elementary schools to talk to students about writing and the importance of reading. So there I was, piled into a crowded gymnasium with Kindergarteners through 6th graders from three different elementary schools. I can only imagine that most of them were more concerned that they might be missing recess, but I was absolutely starstruck. I’d known since I was 6 that writing was my career of choice, and I’d read Stone Fox at least a dozen times, so this was all a dream come true for me. As this was 16 years ago, I no longer remember what Mr. Gardiner said during his speech, but that could also be due to what occurred after. When he finished speaking, he hurried to pack up his stuff. He’d talked for too long and was running late for his next stop, so he wouldn’t be able to sign anyone’s books, despite our teachers telling us to bring our books for autographs. We must have been in a hurry, too, because the teachers were herding us to the buses awfully quickly. On my way to the door, I glanced back at the first famous person I’d ever been this close to and saw that he was surrounded by kids. I could hear snippets of their comments, most of which were along the lines of “I liked your book.” He responded to them politely, though a bit curtly, and they slowly faded away and returned to their teachers. In a rare showing of spontaneity, I stepped out of line and hurried back to the table where he was finally snapping closed his overly stuffed briefcase. “Excuse me, can I ask you a question?” I asked, almost too quietly to hear. Appearing to already regret his response, he sighed, “Sure.” “How do you know if what you’re writing is any good?” I asked. “Because when I write my stories, I think they’re great, but what if no one else likes them?” This seemed to interest him. “You’re a writer?” “I’m trying to be.” At this point, I shoved my ever-present notebook toward him. “I’m working on a mystery novel right now. It’s only about 30 pages so far, but what if it’s bad?” “Do you like it?” “Of course. But I’m the one writing it, not the reader, so who cares what I think?” He laughed and re-opened his briefcase. “What you think is the only thing that matters. If you like it, someone, somewhere, will also like it. If you think it’s bad, no one else will even make it past the first page.” “Really?” I found this hard to believe, but he seemed pretty sincere. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, pulling a small, bright yellow book from the depths of his briefcase. “You keep writing, no matter what other people think. As long as you continue to like it, you have to keep trying. In the meantime, see if this helps. What’s your name?” I told him, and then immediately spelled it for him. He quickly scribbled something across the top corner of the book and handed it to me. “Good luck,” he said, smiling down at me. “I look forward to reading one of your novels someday.” And with that, he walked away. Realizing that my class had disappeared from the gymnasium, I quickly ran outside to where the bus and my very angry teacher were waiting. But I didn’t notice if she was yelling at me. All I could do was stare down at the book in my hands, inscribed with: How to Write a Story That’s Not Boring by John Reynolds Gardiner Jacinta, Enjoy the struggle! John Gardiner
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Jacinta M. CarterProfessional Book Nerd Archives
March 2019
Categories |