Story # 1

Posted by: The one and only cabin girl!!! You haven't forgotten about me, have you?


I had no idea what I was in for that morning.

I didn't think I wanted to be a writer. When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a farmer. Then I wanted to be a singer. Then a teacher. I tried to write stories, but I could never get very far. Well, until two years ago.

It was a normal Wednesday morning. We were watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. At the part where the woodsman failed miserably in killing Snow White, I wondered out loud what happened to him. Does the queen lock him in her dungeon? Does she kill him? My brothers and I came up with a solution while the queen was making the poisoned apple. It wasn't particularly ingenious, but it tied in well with the story, and somehow, it got me started thinking...

For the rest of the movie, I didn't pay much attention, and when the movie was over, I went upstairs to the computer in the library, sat down, and started typing. I didn't even know how to do quotation marks, and I used commas three times a sentence. But once the words started coming, they didn't stop.

They poured out. My main characters grew up, made mistakes, learned, and lived. The princess's evil aunt ordered the death of her own sister, and finally the death of her neice. My other main character refused to kill the princess, and instead, warned her that her aunt was after her and told her to run away into the forest. In revenge, the evil queen turned him into a crow. Seven dwarves took the princess in and made a pet of her (literally), the evil aunt came to kill her neice and my other main character came to the rescue in a flurry of black feathers just before the princess took a bite of the poisoned apple.

I had always loved to read, but it was nothing like the roller coaster that writing took me on. I wrote all day, stopping only when I absolutely had to, and then wrote into the night. (My mom, for some strange reason, didn't even tell me to go to bed. She just told me to go ahead and write.)

I finished the story just before midnight. I printed it out, clicked the save button several times (just in case), and went to bed. The next morning, I gave my story to my mom. It might just be me, but I thought she seemed impressed by it. After that, I knew I was going to write. It was the most amazing thing I had ever done, and I intended to do it again... and again.

After that, I was in. And here I am, two years later, well, two and a half, and I'm still writing, and still loving it!

And I don't think I'm ever going to stop. Scary, huh?