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Who inspired you?!
| Posted on June 23, 2010 at 7:28 AM |
?c 2010
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Who or what?inspired you to become a writer or a teacher of writing (or both!)?and changed your life forever?
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Books have always been a big part of my life. As a little girl, I spent many many hours at the local Forest HIll library, and was never bored. I remember writing a long story while in primary school and being encouraged by my teachers.
My mother taught me to read and write very early. She used to read stories to me and my brothers, too. There was always reading material in our house.
I actually began to write more seriously with the hope of being published, though, after my father died. I had become poignantly aware of the shortness of life, and wanted mine to be more meaningful.
I am inspired, now, by any writer I perceive to have a distinctive voice who writes about the complexity of human realationships. I just read a collection by Somerset Maugham, and love his unique voice and narrative style.
My mother taught me to read and write very early. She used to read stories to me and my brothers, too. There was always reading material in our house.
I actually began to write more seriously with the hope of being published, though, after my father died. I had become poignantly aware of the shortness of life, and wanted mine to be more meaningful.
I am inspired, now, by any writer I perceive to have a distinctive voice who writes about the complexity of human realationships. I just read a collection by Somerset Maugham, and love his unique voice and narrative style.
Thanks for posting, David!
If only we could hear from Cindy's great-grandmother, but in a way, we already have
My dream some day is to buy a house with a library. An office crammed with books is okay, but I'd love to have a real library with floor-to-ceiling shelves on every wall.
If only we could hear from Cindy's great-grandmother, but in a way, we already have
My dream some day is to buy a house with a library. An office crammed with books is okay, but I'd love to have a real library with floor-to-ceiling shelves on every wall.
Reply David Walthour
02:46 PM on July 16, 2010
Cindy only scratched the surface. I'm her Father, and her Great-Grandmother was my inspiration. The daughter of a Swedish immigrant, she had gotten her love of books from her own Father. This great love of reading and writing has taken more than a century to blossom. My Great-Grandfather's library has given me great joy in retirement, introducing me to Owen Wister, Theodore Roosevelt and Willa Cather. He was a wise man to nourish his daughter a century ago. I am glad my daughter shares in that same inspiration.
Cindy,
I agree. A library card was the ticket to my imagination when I was a child, and now I have two library cards in two different states! I also believe that words in the right hands can be magical, and transporting.
Parents who were readers, a mother who wrote long letters, a father composing sermons and reading aloud his favorite passages---beautiful gifts! No wonder you are a writer. I'm sure that your son and students will benefit from your love of reading and writing.
It's great to hear how everyone was inspired to write. So many different influences and paths, big and small, that changed lives forever.
I agree. A library card was the ticket to my imagination when I was a child, and now I have two library cards in two different states! I also believe that words in the right hands can be magical, and transporting.
Parents who were readers, a mother who wrote long letters, a father composing sermons and reading aloud his favorite passages---beautiful gifts! No wonder you are a writer. I'm sure that your son and students will benefit from your love of reading and writing.
It's great to hear how everyone was inspired to write. So many different influences and paths, big and small, that changed lives forever.
Reply Cindy Minnich
06:07 PM on July 15, 2010
I will credit my parents for both the who and the what of inspiring me to write. The what was that they taught me to read...and then gave me the keys to the kingdom by getting me a library card. Our house was full of books constantly and the regular trips to the library showed me how amazing words were. I read everything I could get my hands on and worked my way through shelf after shelf of works. The more I read, the more I believed that words were magical. They could take you anywhere, teach you anything, and offer you far more than you could ever expect to experience in one lifetime.
My parents also were good models as readers as well, Mom at the table methodically working through each section of the local newspaper in her nonlinear manner (the obituaries were always first) and carbon-copied letters from her family; Dad in his recliner reading books of every shape and description, reading aloud the passages that most delighted him. Many evenings passed with us all engrossed in our own words, pausing to share what we enjoyed or learned as we went.
Just as they were good readers in front of me and my brother, they were good writers. My mother would sit at her desk and compose long letters to her mother and siblings each week. While her writing was solitary and silent, my father would test out parts of his sermons as he worked on them. He would make anyone who happened to be around part of his process...though I wish sometimes that those of us who were kind enough to offer our feedback would be granted mercy when it came time to decide which sermon illustrations made the final cut. The pieces came together though when I read Chuck Yeager's autobiography in sixth grade to answer the questions I had about seeing that part of The Right Stuff. I found I had more questions than the book could answer either. When my father suggested that I write a letter to Mr. Yeager to ask them, the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Writing wasn't confined to school assignments. It wasn't just for homework and lists and signing my name. Writing allowed you to interact with others...even others you would likely never meet in person. I'd like to say that the carefully crafted letter I wrote to Mr. Yeager earned me the response I had hoped for, but despite the disappointing return (a glossy black and white with my name spelled wrong and not an answer in sight), I forever changed my view of writing and I saw myself as a writer.
I hope that I can demonstrate my gratefulness for this gift my parents gave me by paying it forward, not only to my son, but to my students as well.
My parents also were good models as readers as well, Mom at the table methodically working through each section of the local newspaper in her nonlinear manner (the obituaries were always first) and carbon-copied letters from her family; Dad in his recliner reading books of every shape and description, reading aloud the passages that most delighted him. Many evenings passed with us all engrossed in our own words, pausing to share what we enjoyed or learned as we went.
Just as they were good readers in front of me and my brother, they were good writers. My mother would sit at her desk and compose long letters to her mother and siblings each week. While her writing was solitary and silent, my father would test out parts of his sermons as he worked on them. He would make anyone who happened to be around part of his process...though I wish sometimes that those of us who were kind enough to offer our feedback would be granted mercy when it came time to decide which sermon illustrations made the final cut. The pieces came together though when I read Chuck Yeager's autobiography in sixth grade to answer the questions I had about seeing that part of The Right Stuff. I found I had more questions than the book could answer either. When my father suggested that I write a letter to Mr. Yeager to ask them, the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Writing wasn't confined to school assignments. It wasn't just for homework and lists and signing my name. Writing allowed you to interact with others...even others you would likely never meet in person. I'd like to say that the carefully crafted letter I wrote to Mr. Yeager earned me the response I had hoped for, but despite the disappointing return (a glossy black and white with my name spelled wrong and not an answer in sight), I forever changed my view of writing and I saw myself as a writer.
I hope that I can demonstrate my gratefulness for this gift my parents gave me by paying it forward, not only to my son, but to my students as well.
It's an extraordinary school, still going strong--Westland School. No grades ever given, we called our classes "groups" not grades," each group picked an area or focus of study each year and the teacher had to come up with real-life activities to learn about that topic. I remember one of my groups was interested in printing, so they got us a moveable type platen press and we made stationery and printed poems, broadsides, and a newspaper.
I think I might still have that "career notebook" -- I know I still have my poetry booklet from the after-school poetry club Don Wright ran at Le Conte Junior High. The other writer I interviewed was John Bright, a blacklisted Hollywood screenwriter who fled to Mexico.
I think I might still have that "career notebook" -- I know I still have my poetry booklet from the after-school poetry club Don Wright ran at Le Conte Junior High. The other writer I interviewed was John Bright, a blacklisted Hollywood screenwriter who fled to Mexico.
Fred,
What a great idea! How wonderful that you and your fellow elementary students were "treated as writers." That reminds me of the philosophy of the National Writing Project.
A "Career Notebook" about becoming a writer! Do you still have it? Do you remember what you put in it? I hope some teachers will steal that idea.
Ray Bradbury is my idol, so the fact that you got to interview him in junior high is impressive!
What a great idea! How wonderful that you and your fellow elementary students were "treated as writers." That reminds me of the philosophy of the National Writing Project.
A "Career Notebook" about becoming a writer! Do you still have it? Do you remember what you put in it? I hope some teachers will steal that idea.
Ray Bradbury is my idol, so the fact that you got to interview him in junior high is impressive!
Paul,
Ditto on response time!
I love that you "understood the power of writing" at such a tender age. Establishing a window, a connection, between you and a reader makes writing meaningful and memorable. And, amazing.
Ditto on response time!
I love that you "understood the power of writing" at such a tender age. Establishing a window, a connection, between you and a reader makes writing meaningful and memorable. And, amazing.
Reply Fred Mindlin
02:24 PM on July 14, 2010
I had a wonderful elementary school experience, at a private progressive school in LA started by Hollywood lefties, and we were all treated as writers there from our first literacy experiences. My junior high school English teacher, Don Wright, really cemented this self-identity by encouraging me to create my "career notebook" on becoming a writer, even though I was ambivalent about the choice. I got to interview Ray Bradbury, who described how he moved to NYC, sold papers to pay for renting a room, and resolved to write and submit a story every week regardless of anything else. It took him over a year of rejections, but he finally started getting his stories accepted for publication.
Kevin,
Fast response! I'm more like Clarisse in Fahrenheit 451.
I, too, wasn't rewarded for creative writing in school. It was a time filler with no grade in high school English, but I loved doing it anyway.
It's fascinating to hear how your mom encouraged the reader in you: "It was that love of reading that sparked the love of writing in me, and in the back of my teenage mind, I had this idea that I could become a writer."
I am happy that after many years of "inner vision" you discovered that you were " . . . really writing all along."
Fast response! I'm more like Clarisse in Fahrenheit 451.
I, too, wasn't rewarded for creative writing in school. It was a time filler with no grade in high school English, but I loved doing it anyway.
It's fascinating to hear how your mom encouraged the reader in you: "It was that love of reading that sparked the love of writing in me, and in the back of my teenage mind, I had this idea that I could become a writer."
I am happy that after many years of "inner vision" you discovered that you were " . . . really writing all along."
Reply Paul Oh
01:45 PM on July 14, 2010
I don't believe any one person inspired me to write. But I do have a distinct memory of showing my mom a piece of paper while she was in the bathroom getting ready for work. I must have been 5 or 6. The paper was full of my scribbles - child-like attempts at cursive. Despite her busy-ness, my mom took time to pick out the accidental humps of w's and m's and probably a few other unintended letters. I was amazed. I had scribbled something and it actually had meaning for another person. I understood then the power of writing.
Reply Kevin Hodgson
01:43 PM on July 14, 2010
I don't remember having a specific teacher who saw the writer in me, unfortunately. Mostly, they would not allow creative writing, which is what I was interested in. I guess my inspiration was my mom, who was not a writer but a reader, and she shared her books and encouraged me to read what I wanted. It was that love of reading that sparked the love of writing in me, and in the back of my teenage mind, I had this idea that I could become a writer. It took many years and a lot of inner vision to see that the things I was doing on my own was really writing all along. That was an amazing personal discovery.
Kevin
Kevin
Your journey is beautiful and moving, Casey.
Great teachers, reflection, and the synergy created between teachers and students are inspiring. Your words ring true: "This constant connection and re-connection continues to pull me toward writing and its value in my life."
Great teachers, reflection, and the synergy created between teachers and students are inspiring. Your words ring true: "This constant connection and re-connection continues to pull me toward writing and its value in my life."
Reply Casey Daugherty
10:28 AM on July 14, 2010
My 2nd grade teacher let me write a short story, "The Dragon in My Garden", and sent a letter home to my parents about me being a writer. I was hooked. I'm 30 years now into diaries, journals, and blog posts.
Writing gave me a new insight to its value when I started reading my mother's daily journal entries a few years ago, (she passed away 25 years earlier) and I noticed my own writing began to change with it. So did my motivation to write.
Although I never felt stifled as a writer during high school and college, I'm not sure I was ever able to explore my writing thoroughly, and I know I wasn't able to develop myself as a writing teacher until I learned to understand my own processing at the Greater Kansas City Writing Project in 2002.
There's an article floating around on Twitter right now from the New York Times about re-connecting with teachers on Facebook. I can't visit with my 2nd grade teacher anymore, but I'm blessed with teaching during the age of Facebook and just last week a former student posted a compliment on my wall to how I inspired her writing. Fortunately, I get to say back, "it was you, and all your classmates, who continue to inspire my own writing and being a writing teacher." This constant connection and re-connection continues to pull me toward writing and its value in my life.
Writing gave me a new insight to its value when I started reading my mother's daily journal entries a few years ago, (she passed away 25 years earlier) and I noticed my own writing began to change with it. So did my motivation to write.
Although I never felt stifled as a writer during high school and college, I'm not sure I was ever able to explore my writing thoroughly, and I know I wasn't able to develop myself as a writing teacher until I learned to understand my own processing at the Greater Kansas City Writing Project in 2002.
There's an article floating around on Twitter right now from the New York Times about re-connecting with teachers on Facebook. I can't visit with my 2nd grade teacher anymore, but I'm blessed with teaching during the age of Facebook and just last week a former student posted a compliment on my wall to how I inspired her writing. Fortunately, I get to say back, "it was you, and all your classmates, who continue to inspire my own writing and being a writing teacher." This constant connection and re-connection continues to pull me toward writing and its value in my life.
Welcome, Paul!
Your grandfather left you a wonderful legacy. I think inspiration might begin with these simple words: "Tell me a story."
Your grandfather left you a wonderful legacy. I think inspiration might begin with these simple words: "Tell me a story."
Reply Paul W. Hankins
09:53 AM on July 14, 2010
I have always enjoyed putting words to page, but the writing actually comes out of my grandfather's storytelling. I don't know that he ever wrote anything down, but his talent for the oral tradition made me want to be a storyteller too. . .
Candice, I love that your high school Spanish teacher encouraged you to write poetry. Talk about Writing Across the Curriculum!
Thanks, Colleen. I Googled Ken Macrorie and found this wonderful interview with him: http://woe.ucdavis.edu/samples/macrorie.pdf/view.
Which of his books do you treasure the most?
Which of his books do you treasure the most?
Reply Candice
10:02 PM on June 30, 2010
I always wanted to be a teacher and always loved writing. As crazy as it seems, I did have a Spanish teacher who encouraged me when I used to write poetry in high school. My poems were in English, but she enjoyed them anyway.
Reply Regina Robinson
02:31 PM on June 25, 2010
Hi laura, I neither condonsider myself as a writer or a person who teaches writing. I consider myself as a person who helps students become better writers.
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