Just because I feel like embarrassing myself (share if you dare)

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Serena Casey

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I thought it might be fun to post one of my first short stories, something I no doubt labored over for hours with my No. 2 pencil and special hardcover notebook. I must have thought it was quite glorious because the Title Is Underlined.

Go ahead, have a laugh at my expense. I was about 9. I'm not posting in SYW, 'cause I sure don't want a crit on this baby! :eek: (I understand if the mods want to move it elsewhere, though.)

Anyway, if you'd like to keep me company here in the writing hall of shame, share a little something you wrote when you were a little kid.

Midnight, the Best Horse at the Farm

Once upon a time there was a nice little red barn with a little blue house next to it. In the house lived a happy family named the Browns. There were two boys and three girls. One of the boys was named Jerry, and the other boys name was Johnny. One of the girl’s name was Crisi, and the two other girls names were Lisa and Lynn. They had horses on their farm too. Johnny’s horse’s name was Blacky and Jerry’s horse was Spot. Crisi had Haxaul, and Lisa had Thunderbolt. But best of all the last horse’s name was Midnight. Midnight was a very shiny black Horse.

One morning all the brown kids decided to have a race. They set up two signs that said Start and Finish. They lined up on their horses, and Jerry was the oldest so he called out, Go! They all were ready to go, except Lynn. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t make Midnight run. He just stood there while the other horses were about a half mile away.

Suddenly Midnight started to run. He was running faster than the other horses, but he wasn’t caught up yet. Lynn closed her eyes and when she opened them she looked back and there she was, ahead of all the other horses. She was so exited he started to walk. But when they almost caught up Midnight started to run again. They caught up and almost went past her, but Lynn went faster. She was about a mile away from the finish.

Jerry was behind Lynn trying to beat her. Johnny was always last but this time he started to pass everybody up. He was running so fast he passed Lisa up. But he didn’t pass Jerry up. He was beside him though Lynn was almost there. There was only a half a mile to go. Now, Jerry was beginning to think that Lynn would win. While he was thinking, Lynn was about a yard from the finish line. Everybody tried to win. But while they were, they found themselves the last one’s to the finish. Lynn won, sighed Jerry. They all went home to lunch.

After lunch they went and fed their horses. While the horses were eating, they went exploring. By the time they got home it was time for supper. After supper they watched TV. Then they went to bed.

In the morning, they had breakfast. And then they went outside. They all got on their horses and took a walk. Then they had a picnic. They had hot dogs and French fries. Lisa and Lynn were twins and their birthdays were in July. Five more days and we’ll be nine, said Lisa and Lynn together out loud. And sure enough, on Friday, they turned nine.

A few days after that, they had another race. Lynn won again, and they discovered that Midnight was the best horse on the farm.
 

KTC

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lol. There were no computers when I was 9...so there's nothing saved from that illustrious era in my life.
 

JoNightshade

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:roll:

That was actually pretty good! I can't share anything because all my really old crappy writing is in a box at my folks' house. My stuff makes yours look like John Steinbeck.

See, when I was little, I already had this concept of "literary." So I wasn't just trying to write a story, I was trying to be brilliant and devastating and...

Yeah.

I remember I started this one that was supposed to be this big tragic family epic. It was called "Under the Old, Black Piano." (OMG I want to die just typing that.) It was about how everyone in this family had been born and died in the same room as this piano.

Another one was a tale loosely based on my own imagined life of parental oppression in which an abused girl (her parents don't even notice when she breaks a leg) eventually turns into a bird that haunts the house where she grew up, saying her own name over and over again.

Oh then, when I was a little older (13 maybe?) there was the tale of Ue ("You"), an abused dog who saves a crotchety old man from falling off a cliff. The old man has a change of heart and names the dog "Gabriel, my angel."

Okay, now I am going off to die of humiliation.
 

Serena Casey

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There were no computers when I was 9...so there's nothing saved from that illustrious era in my life.
Come on now! There were PENCILS, weren't there? :D
Okay, now I am going off to die of humiliation.
Under the piano? *sorry, had to*
Hey, at least you had ideas. The Brown family? The best horse on the farm? Good grief.
 

WendyNYC

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Aw, I think it's sweet. Mine are all at my parents house, but most of my stories had to do with a kidnapping, a monster, or some other kind of horrific subject.

What was MY problem?
 

NicoleMD

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Oh, that was darling. I have a couple stories back home. I'll have to snag them next time I visit. One was about a little girl whose dad was raising her alone since her mother's death. He was an inventor who made a TV set-like gadget that communicated with heaven. The father eventually died also, and she got to see both of her parents on the screen, and they asked her if she wanted to stay in this world or cross over to theirs. Still grief-stricken, she decided to cross over. Morbid. I think that one I was in 7th grade.

I also wrote one about a colony of living boogers.

Not much has changed, I guess.

Nicole
 
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melaniehoo

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That is so cute! How hard was it not to edit while typing that?

My stuff's also at my parents' house. When I was in 7-8th grade I went through a 'I'm going to be the next famous erotica author' phase and THOSE stories are embarrassing. I took all my knowledge from Sweet Valley High books and ran with it!
 

JLCwrites

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That was a cute story! Thanks for sharing!

I had a fascination with horses when I was little. I finally got one when I was 16. (I had to work and pay for boarding, lessons and such.) The darn horse kept bolting with me on it! Needless to say... my fascination wore off quickly. :)
 

dolores haze

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One of the stories I wrote as a kid was from the POV of a baby seal about to be clubbed to death. Another was from the POV of an Ethiopian child watching his family starve to death. What a horribly depressing child I must have been.
 

KTC

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Come on now! There were PENCILS, weren't there? :D


There were indeed pencils, but they did not have file/save as functions. I remember when I was about 11 I wrote a novel about a high school garage band. I called them Marjoram. I can remember that. Now if I could find it, it would be the most humiliating piece of writing posted on AW. hehe.
 

Serena Casey

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Oh dear ... I have two pages of a Wild Wild West story I wrote when I was about nine, but I don't think I'm secure enough to share it yet. *grin*
Please, I'm sitting here all alone...it's scary...people are laughing and pointing...

Oh, that's right. I asked for it.
 

a_sharp

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Come on now! There were PENCILS, weren't there?

Pencils? You mean those skinny writing sticks? We had writing sticks. Wedge shaped ones. We stuck them in clay and made marks. Automatic file/save. Those stories have lasted to this day. I think they call it cuneiform now.
 

jodiodi

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Sorry. I've been out of commission for several days and everything I've ever written is embarassing to me now. Too bad the people who have my partials haven't learned of my 'death' and return (I actually did die for the 2nd time). Had I actually died permanently, I no doubt would've had a bidding war for my here-to-fore craptastic novels. Ah well; there's always hope, though for what I'm not sure.

ETA: I do recall as being the kid in school everyone got to write the stories of their romances with their boyfriends. Of course, being me, I couldn't write a simple romance. No. There was a cast of hundreds (grew up in a small town). I would up, in almost each one of them, killing off everyone and having someone else wind up with their kids.

I can't help it. The silly little girls I went to school with wanted HEA endings for them and their bf's of the moment, and, for the life of me, I couldn't do it. I usually killed them off in gruesome ways. Could you tell, I hated the people i went to school with? Nowdays, they'd ship me off as a likely suspect for possible school shooter.
 
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Shady Lane

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I wrote my first novel when I was nine.

Go ahead. Cry with jealousy.



It all went sort of downhill from there, though. Seven years later, I can barely string three words together...
 

ShebaJones

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Aww. That sounds like something I would have liked to have written as a kid.

The stuff I wrote ended up in my file folder at the office of an excellent child psychiatrist.

I was 7, and I can't remember exactly what I wrote to freak my mom out that bad.
 

TrickyFiction

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My first "book" is also buried in my parent's keepsakes. I had folded some lined paper together and stapled it into a tiny book. Self-publishing at its most primitive. Then, I turned it into a little picture book about a dragon who couldn't find its way home. I think it was followed by a story about a puppy and another about an upside-down clock.
 

Wraith

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That's a sweet story! Looks like those kids had a nice life. Nice to read what everyone did, some neat ideas around. :D

I think I might have some of the stuff I wrote hidden somewhere around, but I can't find it. The first thing I wrote was a series of short stories, when I was veeery little. The first one was called The Rain and was my first realistic story. It was about kids on a playground, one of whom was called The Apple because he had a round red face. Yeah. You can point and laugh now.

My first novel, thankfully never finished., was a medieval piece about an outcast girl victimised by society who found the strength to resist and who also had a habit of climbing through windows at night to meet her lover. The novel was called after the girl: Shevaun. *smacks head*

The next was a completed novella (I think I was about 12): 100 handwritten pages I intended to publish. About this woman who had been wrongfully accused of killing her husband and who then escaped arrest by fleeing to Italy. She met there a nice guy and a prostitute-with-a-heart-of-gold. I was very proud of my complex characters. The nice guy, in spite of being nice, kicked his pregnant wife down the stairs making her lose the child. He was drunk. Crushed with guilt, he kept acting very nice until she forgave him. (The most embarrassing and creepy thing ever written.) In the end, the wrongfully-blamed woman returned home and resignedly awaited arrest after her lover killed himself in front of her. (I was reading a lot of E.M. Remarque at the time. I loved writing people who surrendered to tragedy.) The closing scene was her being carried to prison.

I'll now go cower in a corner.
 

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My first was about an unpopular girl at a slumber party. She was actually invited to be the brunt of a joke and serve as entertainment to the other girls, unbeknownst to her. She went to sleep and was hooked up by the other girls to a dream-inducing machine. The dream was loaded into her brain as she slept and it was about her being bricked into a small space and left there to die, but the other girls didn't know what they were doing and she (victim girl) was stuck in her dream. She died, of course, bricked up in a small space.

I was about ten and not wildly popular. I also think I suffered from an excess of Edgar Allan Poe.

Man, I'd forgotten about that story! Thanks for the mental prod, it's nice to remember I wrote weird stuff then too.
 

KVL

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Midnight, the Best Horse at the Farm

What a great topic! Were you another child who enjoyed Black Beauty and The Black Stallion as a child? I have a stack of stuff I wrote as a kid dating back to my first book (cleverly entitled "BOOK") that I "wrote" when I was 5, involving little more than pictures of animals. Earlier this year I went back to my dad's house to grab some childhood stuff and found a bunch of old writing I'd done from age 7-10 or so. My husband got ahold of some of it and nearly died laughing.

I think his favorite is the one I wrote where there's a pony race and the heroine wins 10 whole dollars, $5 of which she donates to orphans, saving the other $5 for college. And no, I was born in the 80's, which means $5 wasn't worth that much, even then. I don't know what I was thinking, but it sure is funny today.
 

WittyandorIronic

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Upon joining AW I decided to be generous and not post in the AW Poetry area. See, it's already selfish enough of me to be so fantastic at writing romance novels, I didn't think it would be fair to also outshine your 'poet laureate'. But, just to appease my ego, I thought that this was the perfect forum to post a line from one of my poems. This poem was so great, that I never again wrote poetry, as nothing could top the imagery and imagination. Here is a snippet:

"I have only one undieing wish.
To be as free as a flying fish.
The best of both worlds, open only to me,
That is the way life is supposed to be."

(OMG, can I just tell you that my normally supportive and encouraging mother read this and died laughing. I also refuse to divulge how old I was when this was written, as I was in school, but more than old enough to know better. This is just one verse from a 60-80 line poem. Wow, my suckiness knew no bounds. I really did stop writing poetry after this, lol.)
 

Serena Casey

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Melaniehoo said:
How hard was it not to edit while typing that?
It was hard. I think I did fix a couple apostrophe problems automatically without even thinking.

I'll now go cower in a corner.
It's okay. Thanks for keeping me company here.

KVL said:
What a great topic! Were you another child who enjoyed Black Beauty and The Black Stallion as a child?
You can tell, huh? I devoured those books. LOVED horses, like your typical preteen/teen-age girl, at least at the time. (Do teen-age girls still love horses?) Drew them, wrote about them, dreamed about them. Still don't have one.

WittyandorIronic, we bow before poetic impressivosity! :Hail: :D Thanks for being brave enough to share a verse. Hey, who knows why these things made such perfect sense to us when we committed them to paper way back when?

Like "And sure enough, on Friday, they turned nine." Oh my god.
 
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rwam

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First thing I "wrote" was in fourth grade, per an assignment about 30 years ago. I wrote about two boy-detectives, one named Frank and the other named Joe. Their dad, Fenton, helped them solve a mystery. Their last names were "Herrick".

My teacher - Miss Konareski (hey, are you out there, Miss K?) - caught the uncanny similarities to the Hardy Boys novels I'd been zipping through for the past couple years. She called me to the back of the room and explained the concept of plagerism.

"But I changed the names," I told her. "And their isn't a Hardy Boys story about (whatever)."

She didn't buy it. Can't remember getting an F though.​
 

Bubastes

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What a great topic! Your horse story is just so cute. :pinches Serena's cheek:

I know this site deals with more adolescent writing than kid writing, but have any of you seen this site?

http://www.getmortified.com/
 
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