Other than the occasional thank you note to my grandparents and emails at work, I don’t write very much. Though the letters to my favorite octogenarians are celebrated by their audience, my emails tend to get less acclaim. Likely because they say things like, “Client would like harder hitting product copy in the voiceover.” But throughout elementary school and all through college, I journaled in some form or another off and on. I started at age 8, inspired by the world’s most famous diarist.
During most of my single digit years, I subscribed to Highlights Magazine. (Goofus & Gallant, anyone?) The only article I really remember is a spread on Anne Frank. When I read the Highlights version of her story, I was fascinated. I showed my Mom, who told me that my school library would have her diary if I wanted to read it. I knew at 8 years old that Moms are not usually right, so I seriously doubted that Red Mill Elementary would have this one girl’s diary… but they did.
The Diary of Anne Frank is one of the few books I have read more than once. I’ve probably read it four times, and visited her house in Amsterdam twice. Though her story is so very sad, I have always been moved by her, and her book will always be a favorite. At 8 I was so inspired that I addressed my diary entries “Dear Kitty” as she did – at least for awhile. To this day I often read World War II era stories, especially non-fiction.
Tragedy aside, from a pure talent standpoint I am no Anne Frank. In my college years, my “journal” devolved into just doodles of words describing what was happening in my little world. A real page turner, my efforts consisted mainly of words like “exam” or “sooo drunk” in bubble letters. So, in a rare moment of self improvement I am reviving my 8 year old writing efforts on the interwebs. I think Young Allison would be proud.
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| Deep thoughts from Spring Break 2000. Impossible to read here, but I noted two mentions of sandwiches. |
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