In my previous blog “A Teacher Made Me Do It!” Mrs. Sager my sixth grade teacher gave our class a writing assignment to do a bird report.  She displayed several of the outstanding reports on the bulletin board and mine was one of them.  My classmates said I wrote well and I believed them.  So began  my  dream to become a successful writer.

I must add a footnote to last week’s blog as I received a phone call from Mrs. Sager’s son informing me that his mother had passed away last week.  She was 97 and clear minded and healthy until the last month.  I imagine her in Heaven now doing what elementary teachers do best, reading stories to little children.  She might even pause to tell them about one of her sixth grade students who discovered he liked to write in her class and as a result wrote several books for children.  Who knows she might even read the little ones one of my books…..that would put me in Heaven! 🙂

I recognized my desire to write in sixth grade but I didn’t get started until eighth grade.  Our family were farmers so once the school bus delivered us from school in the afternoon it was the same ritual.  Change clothes, have a snack and head outside to do the chores.  Feeding and watering livestock, picking eggs, pitching manure and milking cows were some of the jobs we were responsible for.  Once the chores were completed we had supper.   I know that’s a word used very little now but that’s what we called it.  My grandkids are quick to remind me, ” It’s not supper, Grandpa, it’s dinner!”  Whatever it was called after a hard afternoon and evening of chores it always tasted good.

After our evening meal it was homework time.  Once homework was done we were free to listen to the radio, play games or read.  The winter of my eighth grade year the writer trapped inside of me began calling.  I decided to begin my writing career right there at the kitchen table.  It wasn’t hard for me to come up with a topic as I was a  lover of the outdoors and so my first manuscript was titled “Slinker a Mink”.

I had been writing for several evenings and I had my writing notebook with me at all times even in school. Mr. Wray was my English teacher.  He was  a first year teacher and because he had problems controlling his classes, smoked in public and worst of all actually visited our local pool hall and had a beer or two his contract was not renewed for the next year.  Even though the board of education thought he was a failure as a teacher he inspired me to continue writing and to this day he is my hero!

Here is how the story unfolded.  My classmate, Denny, hated English class.  He didn’t like the stories in the English book and raised his hand one class period and told Mr. Wray that.  Since Denny was sitting right next to me I slipped him my notebook with my mink story.  He began reading the manuscript for several minutes.  Suddenly he raised his hand and shouted, “Mr. Wray, Mr. Wray, Mike has written a story that is better than any of the stories in our English books.”

Now Mr. Wray could have said “That’s nice that Mike is writing.  Keep it up.” and gone on with the class but instead Mr. Wray replied, “Maybe Mike would like to come up the last five minutes of class and read us his story.”  Wow!  So I did just that.  Now not only was I an author but I had an audience besides.  So for several days the last five minutes of class Mr. Wray would call me forward to read.

Of course every night after chores and supper I would add to my mink adventure.  Finally at the end of a class period the bell rang and as I was preparing to leave Mr. Wray politely asked me how much longer the story would be.  I got the hint that I better wrap it up so after many adventures Slinker now old with graying hairs battled a large fish and in the struggle had a massive heart attack and died.

Then Miss Hanson the typing teacher volunteered to type my manuscript.  I’m sure if she knew it was going to be a twenty seven page manuscript she might have not been so accommodating.  For her payment my Mom bought her a silk scarf and broach and I delivered the gift to her.  I thought a fishing rod and landing net would have been a more appropriate gift!  But then you have to remember I was only in the eighth grade. 🙂

We received three magazines at our house at the time.  A Catholic magazine titled “The Sign”,  a farm magazine, “The Farm Journal” and the boy scout magazine “Boys Life”.  With the help of my Mom I developed a cover letter, included a self-addressed, stamped envelope and sent “Slinker a Mink” to all three magazines.  I’m sure it caused some Nuns to chuckle as well as a few agriculture experts.  The “Boys Life” editors were the only ones who might not have chuckled quite as loudly.

I received my first three rejection slips and I’ve had a lot more over the years.  But that’s a writer’s life and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Until next time.