My Writing Autobiography

I have always loved to write, and it became even more evident when I entered elementary school. I quickly befriended a girl named Beth, who lived just down the road from me. One afternoon that I remember in particular was in the middle of the summer. She and I were set to write a book. We had read countless storybooks on our own, and we could not see why we could not write one too. We sat down with a notebook and two pencils, and we were set to go.

I have memories of using literacy all the way back to when I was a toddler to now. Reading and writing always came easy to me as little kid from what I can remember. My earliest memories of reading would be from when I was very young, possibly still a toddler or a tad bit older. Every night before bed, my mom and I would sit in my bed, she would read to me. We read Bible stories from the children’s Bible, Goodnight Moon, Cat in the Hat and many other children’s books. That was my favorite part about bedtime when I was little. Although she was reading to me, and all I was doing was listening and wanting to look at the pictures, her reading to me every night was a huge influence for me and was what made me want to learn how to read. I would without

Most of what I can remember from my childhood is being read to by my mom and her teaching me how to read, alongside my older sister. During the day all that I wanted to do was have my mom read to me, so she would. And every night before I went to bed she would let me pick one book for her to read to me. It was my favorite part of everyday. It wasn’t just at home that people would read to me, my grandma would too whenever we went to her house. She had this book full of short stories that always had a good lesson at the end. I loved hearing my grandma’s soothing voice right before I fell asleep. My favorite book was “One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish” by Dr. Seuss. Since my mom read it to me at least once everyday, I began to memorize it. I wasn’t actually reading the words on the page, I just knew the story so well that I could recite it.

The earliest memory of my writing is in 4th grade we had to do the weekend news every Monday and it was due at the end of the day. I first would write down bullet points of what I did, for example, if I celebrated a birthday with someone or hanged out with my friends then we had to write it by hand on notebook paper and it had to be at least a page long. I was always the quickest because of what I did.

My earliest memories of writing and reading started in kindergarten. I feel blessed to have been able to start school and be introduced to an education. I probably had the best kindergarten teacher I could have been given at the time. This is fundamental because this very teacher started my foundation for reading and writing.

When I was younger, I had many people that would read books to me. The first book I ever read was Boom Chika Boom. My Aunt Jennah was the main person who took care of me, while my mom was working at the Buffalo Hospital. They’re many pictures of me sitting on her lap while she would read me. My favorite books were If You Give a Mouse a Cookie or If You Give a Pig a Pancake.

When I was a child I loved being read to, it was my absolute favorite. My mom likes to remind me that I would often pull a book from the shelf and take it to the nearest person for an impromptu story time. I was about four when I shut down another kid for interrupting story time by asking him: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Once I learned

My first successful writing memory was in the fifth grade a graphic novel. I remember one of my classmates explaining what a graphic novel was one day and I just had to create one of my own. I was always an original kid, so it wasn’t going to be about some jerk in a cape saving a damsel in distress. No. This novel had a special flare. It was all designed on white printer paper I used sharpies for coloring and attached the pages with three strategically placed staples. It was about a girl who had been kidnapped from her family, but her kidnappers didn’t know she was a black belt in Karate. She fought her way out of a leaky basement, and to the street where

Ever since I was a little girl I have had a deep love for reading. My mother started teaching me to read when I was three years old, and by the time I entered kindergarten I already had a firm grasp of the English language and

I have always loved to read. In fact, Dr. Seuss’s children’s books were my favourite and I still keep them in my shelves today. Reading filled my imagination and gave me inspiration since childhood that still impacts me today.

With reading came writing. The stories were no longer confined to the boundaries of my mind. I could write the stories I had dreamed up in my head down with words I had learned from the books that lined the library shelves. I painted my stories with words. It was then that I became an

I had never really got into writing until about third grade when our teacher showed us a video of a guy who journaled most of his

The acts of reading and writing did not always peak my interest at a young age. As a kindergartener we were taught our alphabet, and in first grade we would have to assemble books printed out by our teacher. We were taken into the hallway in small groups and took turns reading the book. For a first grader this could either make or break their reading experience, feeling pressure from other students waiting for you to figure out a word although they may already know how to say it. In the following years I did not take much of an interest of reading. My mother often told me that I needed sit down with a book and read although it was the weekend or even summer. Writing on the other hand did not extend past tracing letters and practicing cursive until about fourth grade. Writing was very limited and was not viewed as an important subject in our curriculum.

When it comes to old memories about how I started to read and write my mind instantly takes me right back to Pre K. Pre-kindergarten was long ago. 13 years ago to be exact. Now a days I don't even remember what I ate last night, let alone accurately remember all of my first memories of reading and writing. But I do remember bits and pieces. Reading and writing growing up was always special to me because both subjects each played a significant part in my life which led me to where I am today.

My true first experience with learning to read didn’t come until I hit elementary school. I remember being delighted when I was sent home with one of my