Back to the classroom

Ever since I was little I loved writing. Every first (or furst as my illiterate 6 year old self wrote) of the month we would write in out first of the month books. It was also called journal time. We were tasked with writing creatively for about 30 minuets. We would do another 30 minutes after break then another 30 minutes after lunch.

I loved the first of the month as I got the chance to write stories. I still remember a couple of them. There was Edward and his three sisters (I myself had 2 sisters) There was also the cat, whose name escapes me, whom loved nothing more than adventure. I remember it was Miss Brigs who first told me to write more. She said she was impressed with my imagination.

I think it was in year 3, so about 7 years old, when something major in my writing journey occurred. The only reason I can remember that it was year 3 was because I remember our teacher, Mrs Campbell, presented my story as an example to the rest of the class. Very embarrassing true, but she did me the service of not stating whom wrote it.

We were tasked with writing about the battle of Stamford Bridge. The class was split 50/50 on writing from one of two different perspectives, from that of a Viking invader or that of a Saxon defender. Who would be victorious? Harald Hardrada or or Harold Godwinson? My name was picked for a Saxon defender.

The story was pretty simple. There was a battle on the beach where the Vikings landed. Looking back, it was strange to call them Vikings as they were Norwegian Catholics. It was no mere raid, but a battle for the entire kingdom of England. There were three pretenders whom all held a legitimate de jure (yet only one was actually English). Perhaps they choose Stamford Bridge as there wasn't a side lead by William the bastard as he wasn't William the conqueror just yet after all.

Stanford Bridge was the battle that came before the battle of Hastings. The story wasn't historically accurate, but then again, the battle of Hastings didn't take place in Hastings but rather a near by town called Battle. I suppose they couldn't just call the most important battle in English history - The battle of Battle.

Above is what I believe to be one of my major flaws as a writer. I feel that I struggle to present exposition and backstory in a creative and interesting way. It's why I like to look back towards what I wrote as a kid, when I didn't care much for so much information, only the information that mattered. It's something I need to relearn. I went very much off track.

Looking back now, reading this old story once again, I can see that I haven't made a lot of progress. I am still making the same errors as I once did, just with a lot less spelling mistakes and better, but not perfect, grammar. Although I think that I am using who and whom correctly, I could be very wrong. But there was something there that isn't always in what I write today, atmosphere.

I don't think I was writing too deeply when I set the atmosphere, I just used my imagination a little bit and went from there. My story was 7 pages long, whereas most of my peers only wrote about two or three pages, with some only one page. I'm not boasting at all when I say mine was longer. Longer doesn't mean better and I would say that it was mostly 7 pages dues to my large handwriting.

I mentioned the weather, I spent half a page writing about the weather. About how cold it was, about how every soldier's breath was visible. I didn't write much about the battle at all, not even a page. Most of my story was about the build up; seeing the boats slowly approach the sea shore; the final meal before battle and wearing an extra layer of clothing.

I think I kept the battle brief because of Narnia. My dad read the Narnia books to me and I distinctly remember the battle in the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe being very short in the book, whereas it was very long in the film adaptation. It's something to learn from, how back then I would learn from other writers, rather than obsess about being different.

I wasn't the only one to mention the weather, but to me looking back it was the most important thing to mention. It was cold, it would have been cold historically. Lower Yorkshire in late September, they were lucky it didn't rain. But then again if they were lucky they wouldn't be about to fight in a battle.

I think it also set the tone well, something I didn't understand back then. I sort of accidently did it. That has always made be a bit up in the air about writing to be completely honest, with my zero readers. I think writing this story all that time ago is what gave me confidence in my ability and belief that one day I would succeed at it. It could all be based on an accident.

I read the story to the school and got a special certificate. The headteacher, Mr Burton, personally praised me for the story. I wonder if I'll always be living in the shadow of my seven year old self, or if I'll ever manage to surpass that bright eyed happy fool.

I learnt something from this challenge. At first I was going to write about my first piece on Vocal, an awful story and I mean bloody terrible tale called half a day. I wanted to see what I could learn from my past self and how I could improve. But as I wrote, I found myself in a tangent about this story. A story written down many years ago in a book which may be long lost.

I only have a few pages from a typed up version, that's all that remains of this story. Yet somehow I remember it such vivid detail. I hope one day to rediscover the original, somewhere hidden deep within my parent's loft.

I didn't overthink it back then. I just wrote with the flow. I wrote about the weather because I felt that it had to be mentioned. I wrote about the boats approaching the beach, well, the battle was on a beach. I also didn't spend much time writing about the battle because, there's only so many times you can write he hit him with his spear or he used his shield to block his sword.

The wind was cold and I could see my own breath. I wished I had put on an extra pair of socks in the morning

Above is the only quote I shall share with any reader. It's special to me but ultimately, I was seven at the time. Also I praise it very highly but it is filled with spelling errors and a lot of 'and then'.

I looked back to see how far I have come only to realise that despite how much has changed, I should also find inspiration from myself. Remind myself where this love came from and why I originally wrote in the first place. Not to be impressive, not to break any boundaries and not to win any awards. I wrote because it was fun and it still is. Creating worlds, developing stories and working out your characters is the ultimate joy.

I recently got a runner-up award in a vocal challenge, My first time. After over a year and a half of trying, I suddenly got a runner-up award. It was for a poem I didn't overthink, I didn't try to hard on, I didn't even read back to myself. I just wrote how I felt. I wrote what felt right. Just like how that strawberry blonde boy use to.