Writing memory lane

Some authors have been writing since they learnt which end of the pencil to hold to the paper while others discovered that they had stories to tell much later in life. Here’s a small cruise down my personal memory lane.

Printouts, notebooks and my netbook. The pile includes the original handwritten manuscript for a story I wrote in 1992.

I can’t imagine not having stories and the people in them in my head. For as long as I can remember, I have made up stories and had characters that fit into them. When I played with my toys, I orchestrated storylines. Every anthropomorphic toy (action figure, teddy bear or doll) had a name and a personality and could act out stories with the other toys.

The first story I ever wrote down was in second grade as far as I recall. It was a page or two long and I had so much fun with it that I wrote a sequel too. They were pretty simple, but they did have characters, dialogue and a plot of sorts. I started several stories and finished some of them over the next few years. Some were semi-autobiographical and about pets that I had while others included plot elements such as timetravel and aliens.

At the age of 11, the kids around me seemed to decide more or less simultaneously that playing was really for small children. They would rather “hang out” than “play”. But I wasn’t done playing. I doubt I ever will be (I hope I won’t ever be!), but I certainly wasn’t then. The games we had played had had complex storylines for a while then. Sometimes we wrote down what had happened because there was so much going on that we wouldn’t always remember where we had left off.
So my solution to the other kids not wanting to play so much anymore was to find another outlet for what was essentially making up stories. I began to write them down. True, I had been writing that all along, but only very short stories. Now I wanted to write longer and more detailed tales with more characters. I dreamt of writing real books someday. Inspired by my favourite films and books, I rolled up my metaphorical sleeves and began.
At first the stories were handwritten. Then I borrowed my dad’s computer and got my very own floppy disk for storing my works in progress. When I had finished a story, I would print it out and make a cover for it.

Later, of course, I got my own computer. I read a lot too, and at one point (I think I was 14) I was annoyed with the local library for not having enough books of the kind that I wanted to read (science fiction and fantasy mainly). Well then, I would just have to write what I wanted to read myself, wouldn’t I?
Eventually came the internet. I discovered various online venues where it was possible to share my writing with others internationally. This was also part of the reason I began writing in English.

At one point I almost ceased to write. The stories and  the people in them were still there, but I focused on other creative outlets instead. I did a lot academic writing, essays and theses, but I discovered that I missed writing stories. It is the best way for me to “play”. Over the next years, writing became a bigger part of my life again. I haven’t ever run out of stories, and with the pile of ideas I have in front of me, it doesn’t seem likely to happen. I started to bring a notebook with me every time I took the train and began my longest story so far on one of those rides, I met others who liked writing, joined a writing group, began participating in NaNoWriMo, and now … well, then I became a chronicler of my own fiction writing ventures with this blog.

What about you? Have you always dreamt of being a writer? Did you suddenly decide to write a book, or did you get an idea for a story, or have they always been there?
-Please take us for a trip down your writing memory lane.