My First Story Submission

I've unearthed a personal treasure!

I don’t know why, but I recently thought about this, the very first “story” I ever wrote, in 7th grade for English Class. So I dove into my “big ol’ box o’ memorabilia and discovered to my surprise - and a little bit horror -  that its submission date was 50 years ago, on September 29, 1974.

I actually remember the Sunday afternoon I was so joyfully writing it (and the negative comment my sister made about a particular word choice). I accommodated her and changed it; I wouldn’t be that easily persuaded to edit these days, however, by the opinion of a critic… Other than that, though, nothing has really changed about my writing between then and now, right?

Without further ado, I present the story that started me on the path to “writerliness…”

Riding on an Autumn Day

On a sunny, brisk, Saturday morning in November, the girl, Elizabeth, rode her blue bicycle out of the garage and down the driveway of the Colonial home in which she and her family resided. Elizabeth, who was fourteen, wore her most comfortable jeans and sweatshirt which was quite warm.

She drove her one-year-old bicycle down the hill and around the corner to Cedar Street where she would meet her best friend. She met her friend, Cindy, waiting in the driveway checking her bike for malfunctions. After a few last minute details such as packing their appetizing lunches which Cindy had made, they were off on their ride around White Meadow Lake. The girls had planned this trip for three days and were relieved that Saturday was such a splendid day to be out in the fresh air and sunshine.

As they neared the lake, they could see in the distance the colorful leaves of orange, red, brown and yellow. But now, as they were actually riding next to the lake, they could see boats in the rippling water as well as the trees swaying softly in the breeze.

It was almost midday when they reached the half-way point. They stopped for lunch by a little babbling brook which was lined by beautiful trees. They sat on the bank of the brook with their basket of food and finished every crumb, saving two cans of soda for their return trip.

They set out again a half-hour later, full from the delicious meal. They pedaled up and down the hilly, winding trail, their long hair streaming behind them. The next part of their journey brought them up a steep grade. When they reached the summit, they stopped in a grove of pine trees, and drank their soda with pleasure. With the home stretch in view, they drove along with great fury. When they returned home, tired from their journey, Elizabeth and Cindy gave their families a brief account of their adventure, and rested until dinner, which was only an hour away.

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My more mature “writerly” notes on this piece…

Regina understood and deployed the assignment well: lots of detail, vivid descriptions, proper paragraph structure, and beginning/middle/end story format.

Someday, when I am a famed author, this first story, handwritten on loose leaf, will be worth a bajillion dollars, I’m sure. I mean, it’s even autographed! In the meantime, I think I’ll frame it in my writing space for sentiment and inspiration.