Everybody’s passion stems from somewhere.
My passion for writing began at primary school, many moons ago, when we wrote stories in class. Gripping tales such as planes crash-landing in the Sahara desert and rescuing people from burning buildings. My Year 4 teacher, Mr Sowden, gave me much encouragement and offered to photocopy the stories from my exercise book so that I could take them home. For the first time in my life, I felt special, as though I was top of the class, and thoroughly enjoyed indulging in this new hobby.
I started to write stories at home. Usually sequels to the things I watched, like A Bug’s Life or Jungle Book. But also, I based stories around well-known franchises, such as Thomas the Tank Engine and the board game Frustration. I still have all the stories in an orange ringbinder somewhere. Though I’ll refrain from publishing them, otherwise I’d be on my arse with copyright lawsuits!
In the year 2000, I went on holiday to Greece with my family. There, on a market stall, I purchased the tiniest little book (smaller than a matchbox), which was attached to a key ring. This book had Winnie the Pooh on its covers, so I decided to write a fan fiction about Winnie and his friends, in which many of the cuddly characters perished! Don’t blame me though; blame Tigger’s evil twin brother, “Tige”!
My copyright-breaching days passed when I came up with a story called “The Last One To Live”, which was a fantasy story, heavily inspired by The Lord of the Rings. I took this story forward into high school and it became my escape for the next five years. I hated high school; it was like a prison. But writing offered me a way out, an escape into a different world that existed inside my head. In school, I often zoned out and drifted off to this far-away place in which I was God. And every night, after a day of hell, I wrote my little heart out in small notebooks purchased from Woolworths (RIP Woolies).
Unfortunately, I never finished that story. As I grew older, I realised that its structure was fundamentally flawed. I did attempt several redrafts to salvage it but eventually gave up. Some day, I hope to return to it and take forward some of its best elements to create something amazing. But for now, other projects await me.
Anyhow, that’s how my passion for writing began. An account of the early days, in which the world was a different place, but my passion burned stronger than ever. Where did your passion stem from?