our little writer

Sophie has loved to write as long as I can remember.  Ever since she could hold a pencil, she was creating characters and plot lines to rival anything my lame imagination could conjure.  I've held onto notebooks where page after page is filled with her lively little stories and I'm sure one day they'll offer Soph hours of entertainment.

It had been awhile since I read anything Sophie has written until the other evening when she asked me to print the story she had just written for a class assignment.  I did remember her coming home from church Sunday and going right to work on it that afternoon.  In about 45 minutes, she emerged from the other room with five handwritten pages that needed to be typed.  No rough draft, just her ideas straight from her head onto paper.  She then proceeded to pound out her story on the computer and after printing it I took a moment to read the first page . . .

OK, I know I didn't write anything like this when I was ten because I can barely do it now.  Obviously, it has tones reminiscent of a young, inexperienced writer, but HELLO, it's engaging and descriptive and interesting:

I got dressed feeling strange and lonely.  I sat on my bed wondering and thinking of what I would do.  I kept on gazing into my thoughts when suddenly the door jerked open.  Taken away by my thoughts I turned my head to see who it was.  "Fisk," I said in surprise . . .



Way to go Sophie.

Keep writing my sweet girl!