My son is very competitive. He loves football, karate and pretty much any sport. He excels at school and is in the top group for everything. However, he isn't very creative and it's a constant battle to tear him away from the games on his tablet. "This will be a challenge," I thought.
So I sat him down and tried to explain about good characterisation, the three act structure, and many other helpful writing tips. Five minutes in he crinkled his nose and looked up at me.
"Daaaaaad!"
"What's up," I said?
"I just want to get on and write it."
So I shut up and let him.
It took him nearly four weeks to write his story, writing and rewriting, asking me what I thought, erasing bits he didn't like and not once did he moan he couldn't do it. His enthusiasm was inspiring. It reminded me of how I feel when I'm in the zone. It was joyous to watch him as he beavered away in the corner of our living room, head down typing away at the laptop, occasionally staring into space while his little grey cells searched for the perfect word to compliment his story. I was so proud.
Alex finally finished his story last night, just before bed. He asked me to read it. I have to admit it was pretty good for an eight-year-old. Of course, now his entry is in I'll probably be asked about forty times a day if he's won it yet, at least until the results are finally published... but that's just Alex.
What's important here is he loved the process, had fun with it and worked hard to get those pesky elusive words down on the page. I hope his story will be the first of many... but that's just me.
Maybe one day he'll be writing his own screenplays.
Happy writing!
So I sat him down and tried to explain about good characterisation, the three act structure, and many other helpful writing tips. Five minutes in he crinkled his nose and looked up at me.
"Daaaaaad!"
"What's up," I said?
"I just want to get on and write it."
So I shut up and let him.
It took him nearly four weeks to write his story, writing and rewriting, asking me what I thought, erasing bits he didn't like and not once did he moan he couldn't do it. His enthusiasm was inspiring. It reminded me of how I feel when I'm in the zone. It was joyous to watch him as he beavered away in the corner of our living room, head down typing away at the laptop, occasionally staring into space while his little grey cells searched for the perfect word to compliment his story. I was so proud.
Alex finally finished his story last night, just before bed. He asked me to read it. I have to admit it was pretty good for an eight-year-old. Of course, now his entry is in I'll probably be asked about forty times a day if he's won it yet, at least until the results are finally published... but that's just Alex.
What's important here is he loved the process, had fun with it and worked hard to get those pesky elusive words down on the page. I hope his story will be the first of many... but that's just me.
Maybe one day he'll be writing his own screenplays.
Happy writing!
No comments:
Post a Comment