I sent her the link and proceeded to browse the stories I had written in middle school and a few meager posts from high school. Wow. The stories from middle school are very embarrassing. Further proof that nothing from middle school years other than academic files should be documented on the internet. Or anywhere.
I reread a few stories of mine and laughed hysterically, to the point of tears. What was I thinking? That's the only question one can keep asking over and over again when reflecting on a time when you knew everything and were just sooo cool. At least, in your own, tiny world. In my small social scene, I was convinced I was awesome because people read my stories and liked them. I can't blame myself entirely because the readers are also guilty of ever thinking my written works were good.
The stories, dialogue, and characters were just thinly veiled people and daydreams I had in my life (it's like I didn't even try). Tons of things were nicked from other books I had read, shows I watched, and of course, real life conversations I had with my fellow precocious preteen friends. Because I didn't know what an editing process was, there are tons of mistakes that were overlooked because of my imaginary high demand for new chapters. There are so many laughable things about how naive I was: I tried to write about edgy things like sex and alcohol, which I clearly knew nothing about since I went to a sheltered, private middle school, khakis and all. The fact I named a Connecticut school "Huwiki High" was blatantly inferring my liking of anime. Most of the girls were extremes, either ridiculously aggressive and angry all the time or so very shy to the point of being angelic mutes. The guys were fashioned from love interests I read about in teen novels and my own preferences that I hoped to find in a boyfriend; it's hilarious because I ended up dating guys like that in high school. Sad or funny, take your pick.
Ugh, I even did profiles for my characters like they do (did?) in a lot of shoujo manga. Taking a walk down nerd memory lane makes me laugh and feel horrifically embarrassed, but it also helped me see how far I had come as a writer (trust, it was a long way up) and as a person overall. I refuse to post the link to my Fictionpress profile on my blog, but if you happen to have it or find it, have fun and remember: I was in middle school. I knew nothing and wrote about everything.