I was recently going through a box of papers from grade school. For me, that means stacks of illustrated storybooks, chapter books in longhand, story sketches, humorous vignettes, poems, picture series, etc., etc., for days and days. Among the detritus of a vehemently creative mind clearly not occupied enough at school, I found a pair of sheets of pink construction paper, stapled at the sides in order to make a cover or folder. I must have made it in the third or fourth grade, as datable by the cursive writing style. It was meant to hold ideas and outlines of stories yet to be told. At the bottom, it reads, "This is the Propordy of Jessica Knauss, famous writer." (Teachers and parents were always telling me to "sound it out" when I asked how to spell something, which to this day I do not believe to be an effective way to work out the intricacies of English orthography.)
My husband, who believes a little bit in reincarnation, says that such conviction at an early age means that I was an author in my last life. "You carried a lot over!" he says. It is also likely I was projecting a career path for myself. Or that I was convinced that I was already famous, since everyone in my circumscribed social circle knew that I wrote "books." Whether one or all of those ideas are true, that happy piece of construction paper gave a name to this blog. Thank you for joining me on this journey!
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