Shaw is trying to outrun his father's ghost. (RL4.2)
Like most people who enjoy writing, I also love to read. As a child, I couldn't wait to begin school so I could learn how. To me it seemed like magic. Books were treasure chests jammed full of glorious adventures and ideas, but I didn't have the key. I had to rely on my parents and older sister to read to me, and that just wasn't good enough. I wanted to do it myself. And I wasn't disappointed. Reading was everything I had hoped it would be. The only thing that frustrates me now is the knowledge that there are more books than I'll ever get to in my lifetime.
I've noticed when I read author biographies, that many writers are or have been teachers. I'm not quite sure why that is, but it is--and I'm no exception. For me, teaching was good because it helped me to understand children better. You see, I never really was one myself. Children are active, and I've always been more of a watcher than a doer. Maybe that's why I never learned to swim or skate very well. Perhaps it's also why I was farmed off to the outfield during neighbourhood baseball games. I shouldn't give the impression that I was a washout at everything. I could climb trees, though I was even better at falling out of them. And I rode a bike; I even have an assortment of scars to prove it. I may not have been overly athletic, but I did have a great imagination and super friends. We put on theatrical extravaganzas, produced magazines, ran detective agencies, held funerals for birds, operated roadside stands of many varieties, and conducted safaris in the woods behind our homes. I always think I grew up in a wonderful era, but perhaps it's all in the way I choose to remember it. But I do remember it--vividly--and that helps me in my writing. I can't imagine that I'll ever run out of ideas for stories.
