I have enjoyed writing

since about the eighth grade. (Eighth is an odd one, isn't it?)

Mrs. Ellington, I believe, is the one who really set it off. Also, September 11, 2001 had its impact on my young mind. A growing dislike of mathematics figured in as well.

When I wrote things, Mrs. Ellington made it sound like it was the most brilliant thing she'd ever heard (or read) in her entire life. Having looked back over some of that old stuff, I know better, but she may never know the impact that she had on me - just little bursts of confidence that made me feel that people might care about what I had to say. Egotism galore. You've got to have it if you think anyone's going to give a damn about what you've got to say.

There are so many books around today. Perhaps there are too many. But I can't seem to quash this bug.

It's coming along.