"I Discovered How to Take Care of Myself", by me (approx. age 9)

[bgnathaleigh]

"Ahoy, ahoy! Land ahoy! I see land! Prepare the ship! Mast the sails,-!", the captain said. The captain's name was Mr. Apple-Patcher Kee-Tah. Suddenly, a loud rumbling sound filled our ears, and then a loud crash, crash, bang, bang, boom! It was a horrible rainstorm coming from the little island in front of us! "Instead, why don't you prepare for

Comments

[eunicemcgee]

This is amazing. Was your dad just lost for good? Where did the caribou come from if everyone had starved before? I love the way you name people too. Giving a grown-up a "Mr." instead of a first name, and then referring to him that way even though he was your dad. Also, "since being"; nice.

[bgnathaleigh]

I know! I think it's adorable. But there are some definite logical inconsistencies there.

Every story I ever wrote somehow centers on me running away to some secluded forested place and living my own life, sans parents. I was obsessed with it. It got more and more elaborate as I got older and I even drew maps of the routes I would take to travel the world, and where I would settle down eventually. I drew up lists of what supplies and rations I would need to bring.

Things you don't care about when you are a child: I totally used that sweet young couple just to get away from the orphanage! They must have been truly heartbroken. I imagine that the wife couldn't bear children, and that they searched and searched every orphanage in the city, but no child felt right for their family. Finally, they came to the last orphanage in the city, and found their child, and adopted her even though she was pretty old.

...and then that bratty kid ran away and left them only a scrawled note with a lot of bolding and italic font and underlining. That

[dasmondschaf]

but that's another story!!! and shall be told another time!!!!!!!

srsly adorable, babes. Also, so this is what was in all your mysterious spiral notebooks all those years. :3

[bgnathaleigh]

Pretty much. Also my fair share of angsty poetry and journal entries. And lots of lists of supplies.

This pre-dated all notebooks. It must have been for class, because it was printed out and mounted on colored construction paper. I remember I used to type stories in WordPerfect in the early grades in elementary school, and then have my parents print it and hang it somewhere. (Other kids did art? I did terrible terrible stories.) I was always super particular about bolding and italics and underlining. Like, I'm surprised there wasn't more emphasis in this one. Clearly at this point I was already learning to cut back.