Thursday, September 30, 2010

Siftings

The last few days, I've been going through some old boxes of mine. It's kind of exciting--like opening a pack of trading cards when you're little. You kind of know what to expect, but not completely--will you get that special foil card? That really rare card? Or will you finish off a collection?

I found a treasure!

I think I should start out by admitting that I'm a pack-rat. It's a tendency I'm trying to overcome. But I'm so glad that I found these--old school papers from elementary school. The big, bulky, construction paper-enriched crafts. Math tests, math papers, social studies papers...and writing!

Oh, my gosh. What did you write like, when you were little? Or what did you write about?

I'm pretty sure we were given pictures and were told to write stories about them. I was hoping mine would be fantastic and show how I was a writer at a young age, but alas, they weren't. There were some misspellings--I was just freshly seven, having had my birthday right before school began. But they were such treasures. Interesting views into my mind, in fact. I wrote a lot about kittens and blond girls named Lisa (I wanted to be blond, though I'm definitely not, and I wanted my name to be Lisa, though I love it as is). I laughed, and laughed, and I'm so glad I found them, and I'm so proud of them, whether or not they are well-written. I packed them away, but drawing on my memory:

If I found a dinosaur outside of my house, I would: ask my Mom if I can keep him and then I would keep him and I would call him farad. (I think that was supposed to be Fred. It wasn't capitalized in my "story," either.)

In the summertime: We wear three types of clothes; skirts, shorts and swimsuits. If you are a boy, you can only wear two. If you are a girl, you can wear all three. And you can play with the garden hose.

One Christmas: Everyone forgot, except for a little girl named Lisa. But she didn't know anyone forgot, so she didn't tell anyone. She left him (Santa?) a gift on Christmas Eve. (I assume that's the only gift given, and if you really want to think into it, Santa forgot, too, so he didn't even get his present...but oh, well.)

Oh, sometimes it's annoying to get prompts, but sometimes it's a lot of fun. So, I challenge you to tell me your own stories--what happened in the summer? What happened one Christmas? And what would you do if you found a dinosaur outside your house?

Or, you know, just enjoy my sad "stories." I did. :)

4 comments:

Amalia T. said...

I love how that And makes it sound like ONLY the GIRLS are allowed to play with the garden hose. haha.

I have a bunch of my own kiddie work packed away somewhere, and a binder with a giant story I wrote in the 7th grade which is a terrible conglomeration of all kinds of fanfiction. For shame, younger me, For. Shame.

Donna Hole said...

Funny, but when I was a kid I wrote a lot of poetry. My favorite thing to do was make cards.

I can't write poetry anymore. I try, and it just doesn't work. Don't know why.

These are cute stories. I really like the santa one. What a lot of though that one must have taken your seven year old mind. Maybe you were worried about Christmas being forgotten.

All very cute.

.........dhole

Just Another Sarah said...

Amalia: No! Not for shame! Some things you want to keep forever. Even fanfiction, which, since you have mentioned it, I have to admit to writing some of. Yeah, I'm ashamed, too. Especially since I wrote mine much later in life than you did. Incidentally, while sifting, I found some of my old work from my first Creative Writing class (not with you), and I wanted to burn a lot of it. Or at least throw out the student comments, most of which were highly critical, and many of which were right...though I strongly suspect that their writing wasn't much different from mine.

Donna: Thanks! It's tough to say what I was thinking. I'm pretty sure I didn't believe in the big SC by then, but I think that I still felt sympathetic to him for his big trip, never getting any thanks. Hahaha, what meaning one can find in one's five-line stories!

I was never a poet, but I did tell a joke that was halfway decent. Actually, it's pretty bad, but the more you say it, and the more you laugh at it, it's amazing, but it totally makes all the difference.

Q: Why should you never leave a car in front of a meat store?

A: Because a *carnivore* might get it!

Amalia T. said...

Oh Sarah! I still write fanfiction too. It's terrible. I even write fanfiction to my own fiction, which is even WORSE. :)