How I Became Interested in Writing

Photo: Alex Kerhead

Nearly every major interest we have in our lives can be traced back to one moment--a spark of inspiration that caused us to take the next step and before we knew it, we were immersed in it.

The other day, somebody asked me how I became interested in writing. I instantly thought back to a particular Saturday afternoon when I was probably twelve years old and sitting at my dad's desk in his paint shop. He painted for a living for many years and at the time, he had his own business.

I loved going to his shop on Saturdays. I got to drink as much pop as I wanted. We listened to Nebraska football games together on the radio. And I got to use his typewriter; an old manual typewriter with keys that you practically had to use a hammer on.

I was always drawn to that machine, but I remember one particular Saturday afternoon when I grabbed the liner notes from an Elvis album and began to type them word for word. I loved the sound of the keys, even though I was mostly a two-fingered typist at the time. And I loved putting words on a blank piece of paper, even though the words weren't mine. I finished typing the liner notes and I grabbed a newspaper. I flipped to the sports page and began typing an article word for word.

Something inside me just clicked. Have you ever experienced a moment in your life that you knew you better remember because it was going to change you somehow? That's what happened to me that day. I knew that words were part of my future. I had no idea what role they would play, but that didn't matter.

I wish I could remember more about that day, like the color of Dad's desk, or the knickknacks he had on his desk, or the brand of the typewriter, or how high his inbox was stacked. I remember the strong smell of coffee and I can see the shape of the office in my mind. Nearly everything else has faded from memory. But I have that one memory of myself sitting at the typewriter, and somehow that seems like enough.

Lots of other things happened along the way: a strong desire to read books; an encouraging English teacher; and a writer's conference in 1998 all played a huge role. But it all started when I allowed myself to get lost one Saturday afternoon many years ago in an activity that I was drawn to.