I think back on the time I wrote the seven page story, freshmen year of college. Five years ago. My world was new. New dorm, new friends, new promise.
The story was like a promise becuase it was excellent. It was passed up and down the dorm room hall, praise all around.
But the promise never panned out. My work ethic receded, and no other story grabbed me like the seven-page story did. There was no mass praise for my work, especially not from other students, which is basically what I wanted.
Sitting at 2 a.m. in front of my new computer with my new roommate in my new college writing a story for my first college class, there is no way I would ever believe my world would be the same place five years later. But it is. I'm still me, just trying to care.