It's disappointing when I think about it. The first indication that I was good at writing was when I was in the fourth grade. I'm 52 now. That was more than four decades ago, people!!! I went to Catholic elementary school, and next to the school was a non-Catholic Church. (my church was across the street-catty-corner from the school and on the same side of the main road as the convent. Where the scary penguins lived. Sister Alfreda still haunts me to this day.) One day, a dead body was found behind the non-Catholic church, next door to the school. At the time, we were given a writing assignment. I forget the details, but I decided to write a news-type article about the dead body, as if it was a report in the local paper. I think it creeped out my teacher because of the subject, but I got an A+ for the assignment. In hindsight, I wish I was encouraged to develop my writing skills. Maybe I would have gone on to college to be a journalist and eventually an author. I'd be a lot better at it, and would probably have had a much more enjoyable career so far. Now, I'm hoping to develop a full time occupation-or should I say, a self-sustaining vocation by writing. It's an uphill battle. What's your story?