The Writers Journey
How It Begin I knew I wanted to be a story teller when I was a child. See once upon a time there was a library in an old stone building downtown. Stone steps lead to a large doorway where the children's area was. It was like a dungeon, a castle. Inside the walls were gray stone lined with shelves. The shelves were filled with books upon books upon books. Old glass windows--the kind that were rippled--let in light. When it rained the room smelled like water. I discovered dragons, unicorns, dinosaurs, and magic in this room. The feel of the pages, the words, the pictures, all called to me. My mother encouraged our imaginations by reading out loud to us, drawing pictures and making up stories. She would play the piano and tell us the light higher notes were a fairy princess trapped in a castle trying to get out. The deeper notes were a monster climbing the stairs and searching for her. Hmm ... and she didn't want me telling my siblings scary stories? To keep my sister Ami...