The Writer’s Journey
By: Kalin Reynolds
It all began in Mrs. Nelson’s first grade class. The big bang of Mr. Kalin’s writing universe. This is where my earliest memories of writing real English letters took place. When I close my eyes I can still picture the huge lined paper with example letters at the top.I can still smell the dead bugs, bologna, and boogers hidden in my desk. I can still feel the pencil in my fingers as it completely distorted what letters should really look like. My squiggles were far superb to any other’s in the class! My stories made writers like Shakespeare and Dickens look, well, my age! At least what you could read of them. All the while, Mrs. Nelson, who to this day is still one of my favorite teachers, continued to work with me on developing legible hand writing. She may be one of my biggest contributors in my writing adventure. Without her, my a’s and Q’s may still look like the same letter. And just as I was beginning to learn what letters really look like, wouldn’t you know it, they shipped me off to second grade, which was much like the last.
As a second grader I was probably known as Superman, or something of that sort, because of the extraordinary talent I developed. I, Kalin William Reynolds, was the spelling master of the world! I couldn’t miss! Every single one of my C-A-T’s and T-H-E’s were spelled perfectly! I think I might have gotten 100 percent on every single spelling test that entire year. In between all my spelling accomplishments that completely baffled every non-superhuman second grader in my class, I achieved one of my most prestigious writing accomplishments. I entered a writing competition at my school. I wrote about a giant boy who would eat trees, play baseball with the sun, and use fluffy white clouds as pillows. This unforgettable tale won first place in the whole darn school! I even received a notebook and a real golden dollar. I was on top of the world! I knew for certain I would be the greatest writer in the world some day! Then third grade rolled around.
"What are these squiggly markings?” I thought as Mrs. Labrum passed out our cursive writing assignments. I was certain that these were not real letters. Maybe pictures of noodles or strings, but no. Mrs. Labrum explained that this was cursive writing and that we would be learning how to write with it this year. I was devastated. I had just finally mastered putting the English language into words, and now this? This squiggly mess of unhappiness? Were these even real letters? Sadly, yes, yes they were, and I was being forced to learn how to write them! I struggled with cursive to say the least. I had a plethora of problems from not being able to get the slant just right, to forgetting how in the world to write one of those fetching Z’s. My writing career was ruined, and Mrs. Labrum could not revive it. Well, I guess she could have. If she had tried! I feel that Mrs. Labrum truly was the most negative influence on my writing journey. She didn’t help me one tiny bit with my writing. She just told me what was wrong with it and left. After the mess she had caused in my previously happy and prolific writing life, I needed a break from writing. That break came in fourth grade.
I honestly can not remember writing too much in fourth grade. Mr. Winn was a rather boring man. I think he preferred forcing young children to do grueling work sheets to releasing there inner creativity in the form of magical writing masterpieces. His monotone voice was that of a slave driver forcing children to be unhappy little minions. I don’t think I made any advances in my writing skills in that class. Perhaps my spit balling skills, and lady charming skills, but certainly not my writing skills.
When I was done sleeping through fourth grade, I was making my way back on top. My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Huntington, assigned us weekly spelling paragraphs in which we had to incorporate all of our spelling words for that week. Thus started the incredible series of the one, the only super chicken! Because as we all know chickens are a fifth grader’s favorite thing to write about. I believe these stories are my best writing work to this day. My classmates couldn’t wait to hear what heroing act super chicken was accomplishing each week. From subduing giant flying monkeys to helping old women cross the road. These paragraphs in my mind increased my writing skills more than anything else in my writing journey. Fifth grade firmly established me as a true writer. I took the skills I learned there both from Mrs. Huntington and myself with me throughout the rest of my journey.
Sixth grade, much like fifth, was filled with more goofy tales of things like booger monsters and magic meatloaves. All throughout I continued to heighten my skills even more, and prepare for the dungeon we call Junior High. By the time elementary school concluded I had developed the writing skills I needed to get through junior high.
Other than Mrs. Carter’s class of course, my junior high writing experience was rather dull. Most of the writing I did were things like essays, and research papers. So whenever I got a chance write creatively, I went all out. My favorite story I wrote would probably be the children’s story I wrote for Mrs. Card’s class entitled “Fritz and the Golden Muffin”. A story about a poor farmer boy who steals the kings magic golden muffin for food, but does the right thing and turns himself in in the end. I believe my writing skills were almost fully developed at this time. I was back to being as amazingly good as I was in 1st grade. After I was done being an awesomely studly writer at the junior high, it was time for the final frontier. High School.
My high school writing journey so far has been bleak. Mrs. Wakefield’s class was filled with research papers and essays. Two of my least favorite forms of writing. Which brings us to the place I’m currently in on this writing journey. Mrs. Carter’s 11th grade Honor’s English class. A class that I’m very glad to be in. I am finally free again to release my creativity onto paper. I am almost even excited for the future assignments I will receive this year. Even if I do always end up doing them late at night the day before they’re do. That’s ok though, the dark makes me feel like batman.
