Yesterday I turned 34. 30 years ago, on my fourth birthday, I received as a gift a sky-blue typewriter. I composed my first 'professional' story on it that night. No pencil, no pen, no crayon. No yellow, square paper for kids. This was 'professional' white paper, and it was typed.
Concept was pretty deep (for a four year old): older kids living in a house. One at home trying to guess who was in the next room by the sounds being made. And I tell you now, that at the age of four, with a limited vocabulary, I drafted a one-page story far better than a lot of crap I see being published now.
b write black.
