Hmmm, the ‘Bonus’ for step one of the 12 steps from ‘On Being A Writer’ is not really a bonus.
I will give it my best shot though!
Firstly, saying that I am a writer doesn’t actually make me feel more or less of a writer, but it does make me write more! Fear of being called a fraud means that if I am going to call myself a writer, then I must do what writers do: write!
Then it says I need to write childhood memories in descriptive ways. This is going to be tough for me, as most my childhood memories are not nice. Any nice ones certainly didn’t involve my parents!
One I could write about, that haunts me and has a big effect on life today is the fire we had.
It was a warm day/night. I don’t remember feeling cold anyway. I was in bed. I think I was fast asleep. My dad had a watch, and it was quite fancy (we are talking the late 80’s, early 90’s) and it had a dial on it, that could set an alarm or a timer. It would make a basic, high pitched beeping noise when it was activated. Anyway, there I am in my bed, not even 10 years old. I was sleeping well, but a beeping interrupts my sleep. I try to block it out, and wondering why my dads watch was so loud. It was loud, but I didn’t think it was in my room. I am trying to go back to sleep, when my mum walks in and gently shakes me. She tells me to get up, go downstairs and grab my coat, to not look in the kitchen and go out the front door. She explains that there is a fire, so I must act quick. So I do, but as is always the way, being told not to do something, I do it. The fire wasn’t devastating, but it was quite severe. The cooker was well alight, and my dad is trying to put it out with tea towels. But the flames are licking the walls, and some of the wall paper is on fire. It was spreading. My mum went to get our dog Marmaduke from the garden. Where Marmaduke was after that, I don’t know. Then we went into the street. We started knocking on neighbours doors. I don’t remember the time, but few people were awake. The second door we knocked on let us use their phone. We then had to wait for the fire brigade to arrive. Two trucks came up our street. We were at the end of a cul-de-sac. Then lots of people were out, everyone wanting to see what was going on. There was a family called the Montagues, and my parents didn’t like them especially much. But they came out too. My best friend and her mother were there. The best thing from that night? I got an extra sleepover!
I might talk about another moment from my childhood another time. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this story. My parents were awake when the fire broke out, and didn’t notice until the smoke alarms went off. So please, push the button. It could have been a lot worse for my family had we not had working smoke alarms.
That’s it for now! Hope to see you next week.