From the time I could hold a pencil, I loved making marks on blank pages. Or in the blank space on pages. When I could print my letters, I copied words without knowing their meaning. At my parents' home there is an old dictionary whose margns show my efforts. I think that was where my love of words began.
Later, while other Grade 8s in my home town were suffering through boring rules of grammar and syntax, my teacher turned a year of English Composition into a creative writing class in which, every week, we tackled something new and imaginative. I understand now, as an adult, that i more...
