I have pretty much saved EVERYTHING I've ever written. I have 20+ notebooks full of old writing that I am constantly fretting could be lost in a fire, distressing my future biographers. o_O So I'm going to try to start typing it up, and I will occasionally post bits of it as I do.
The first notebook is from 4th grade, and was intended to be my Harriet the Spy notebook. The trouble was, my life was somewhat lacking in spyworthy stuff, leading to such fascinating entries as:
I wonder what Mommy goes off and reads in her room.
How come Harriet the Spy always finds the interesting stuff to write about?
Katie is driving me nuts.
I hope Mom enjoys her shower.
I’m always losing important things. Gosh.
I’m going to audition for a play today. I hope I get a good part.
There was also a story in the "revenge on family" genre, which I sometimes dabbled in...:
By Jaclyn Dolamore
Once there was a girl named Jackie and she and her friend Allie always told each other a secret when they had the chance.
Allie went to parties a lot, so Allie and Jackie often couldn’t talk or visit but they saw each other sometimes.
Jackie’s evil sister Katie listened in on the secrets. One day she got her 20th secret so she wrote a book with all the secrets in it and said her pen name was Ruby Blue.
One day she sent the secrets in the mail to a publishing company. It was called J. A. But she didn’t know J. A. stood for Jackie Allie.
They read it and said “Hey, this is our secrets. Katie must’ve wrote it.”
They decided to write a book called Katies Secrets.
Seriously? Was there any satisfaction in writing such things? Kids are weird.