What a walk

Wow the world of writing is hard. I thought I was about finished writing my book about hiking the entire Appalachian Trail. Now I'm not so sure. I could use some input on the first three paragraphs. Are they gripping enough?

I was frustrated when she responded with less enthusiasm. Hiking was her idea of a senior trip. I had sent my mind loose day-dreaming about a saunter in the woods. The more I talked about the trip the more I knew we would never actually do it. I graduated high school and life went on. I forgot the whole idea and went about my life trying to figure out my future. I put the whole Appalachian trail adventure on the back burner.

The idea of the Appalachian Trail did not arise again until after I was excitedly planning on getting a treadmill. I would tell anybody that would listen about how I was going to get my own treadmill. And how I was going to get in tiptop shape. I imagined being much more thin and fit. Finally I found a treadmill I was ready to buy. I had the money. Everything seemed to be lining up, but when I approached my father about having a treadmill, he said, “Not in my house,” cutting down every hope I had built up, like he cuts down trees everyday.

I lived in a crowded house. My father worked as the owner of a tree trimming company and my mother worked at a christian theater sewing up costumes. If the average number of kids is two and a half, they have twice the average number of children. Making me the middle of five. People would tell me, “The middle child is the forgotten child.” I never believed them. I had an older sister to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. And three brothers to be competitive with.