My Personal Writing : My First Memory Of Writing

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The earliest memory I have of writing is when I was in kindergarten. Pencil in hand, I sat at my desk, ready to write. Large sheets of paper with bold lines on it were passed out by my teacher. Across the blackboard, in perfect handwriting, my teacher had demonstrated how to write a sentence. I listened carefully as she went over the rules, “Remember to start with an uppercase letter, and end with a period.” Just before I had begun writing, my teacher added, “And be sure to put spaces between your words.” I carefully wrote out a sentence. I looked over my work, satisfied with what I had written. My teacher came around to collect the large sheets of paper. Suddenly, I realized my mistake. I had put spaces between all the letters, instead of between the words. My next vivid memory of writing is when I was in first grade. My best friend and I wanted to write stories. We dreamed of our stories having intricate plots and flowery vocabulary, like the books that we read. We came to a decision that the best way to achieve this would be to copy down one of our favorite books. I dug through my backpack, and pulled out a Hannah Montana book for us to transcribe. Every single day, before and after school, we copied every single word in that book. Some middle schoolers told us that it was a foolish idea, even threatening copyright as a potential consequence. But that didn’t stop us, and for weeks we copied that book. When I was in third grade I decided that I wanted to write a book.

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