My Journey Through Writing

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Writing is powerful. It gives us freedom to be the illustrator of our own imagination. While growing up I would write until my hand was sore, through schooling, teachers and different experiences I lost my love for writing. Now I have to give myself a mental pump up, before picking up a pencil, or sitting down to write a paper. My journey through writing is a rocky one, with accomplishments and detriments. I cherished writing growing up, I lost that desire, I have strengths and weaknesses as a writer, and I hope that I can regain the love I once had for writing, in this class. When I was little I loved when my mom would read to me. The Hungry Caterpillar, Peter Rabbit, and Curious George to name a few. I would soak up the stories like a sponge, and I could never get enough. At age four I would take a pen and paper and copy down the words in the books my mom read me. I set up my workspace on the piano bench. Pencil in hand and a grin on my face, I open up the magical door of a book and copied the words “Is Your Mama a Llama?” I’m sure I was breaking all kinds of copyright laws but that didn’t matter. I wanted to create an adventure of my own, a whimsical story from my imagination. At the age of four I couldn’t read or write on my own, but as I learned, my adventures blasted into a new universe. In third grade I wrote stories of animals, dragons, mermaids, and anything I could think of. I enjoyed constructing stories of my own; but even more, I loved to read. I would read
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