The Origin Story
It doesn’t begin with the stroke of a pen. It doesn’t being with clicks of the keyboard. It doesn’t even begin with my introductory 1st grade assignment.
It begins with Seuss. It begins with Goodbye Moon. It begins with Curious George. It begins with a mother and father who cared. It begins with the grandfather I never really knew.
“Dad knew if you were reading a book, he’d read it too, just so he’d have something to talk to you about.” My mother talking about her father. My grandfather.
“He told me he read every book in the Ely library.”
So it began with the inquisitive nature of my grandfather, George Miyama. A man I did not really know, but who I know loved everything about the written word and his grandson.
He fostered my mother’s love of reading who in turn made sure to read to me every night when I was a small child. He is the first reason I have a writing history. He is my writing genesis because he passed down his fascination with stories and written words all the way to me.
“My name is Max Brewer. PORTFOLIO.” Inside the red construction paper folder is more information. Portfolio is circled in black ink. “I am 6 years old. My favorite food is pizza. My favorite color is red.” The red construction paper makes sense.
Red construction paper portfolio was first time I can remember that I tried to fill in the details of my life into a readable format. I was forced to come up with parts of my life and put them to paper, which is what every piece of writing is really. I was used to deconstructing sentences on a board, but here was where I could make something, even if it was just my life in words on construction paper.
High school introduced a newer element to my writing.
I had to create a new voice to suit the academic attitude required of me. This was the hardest thing I had to do in writing by far.
Too much voice.
We’re not here to read jokes.
And where is the formal tone?
That’s just heartbreaking in the most literal definition of a figurative phrase.
I was a big fan of Toonami, so that means I saw Dragon Ball Z, Gundam Wing, Outlaw Star, and many other shows. This lead to a realization. I like this, so why don’t I write this?
I did. It’s my first remembered attempt at creative writing. It was awful according to my perception and that of every comment left on one of my stories. It hurt. I didn’t seriously attempt creative writing again until I was in college.
I took English 205 at CSN. It was Intro to Creative Writing. My first “complete” story was “Johnny.” It was about a sarcasm fueled teenager who moved away from his father, and he wrote a blog about it. Only slightly meta now.
And so I go on now. Writing academically and creatively, but not on red construction paper anymore.
I can ignore my handwriting. That is the single greatest contribution technology has made for my writing history. My history involves illegible scrawls, but to everyone now it’s just a font the screen.
The last time I wrote with a pen for something other than signature was for a made up limerick in a story I created a week ago. Does that say a lot?
Let me list the tools I used then as a small child.
Now let me list the tools I used in the last week.
- Galaxy S3
- Playstation Vita
- Personal Computer
That’s more opportunity to write. When there are so many chances to write and publish my thoughts, how can I not take advantage?
The advent of writing technology has become apart of my history. Everything I have written for school or for myself has been created using an electronic device, with the pen and pencil playing bit parts in my overall writing saga.
My history is not over yet. With the publicity of writing on the Internet, whether it be WordPress or Twitter, I have an opportunity unlike many before my time.
My history is visible, it is for everyone to see.
Technology is visibility and legible. The world sees my writing history and I see its, and it is far from over.