The stuff I was writing at 11 and 12 years old is remarkable not only for its awfulness — it ranges in subject matter from Agent Prudence Shen joining forces with Mulder and Scully to Solve Crime! to thinly veiled versions of me and my then-crush falling in love…and then joining forces with Mulder and Scully to Solve Crime! — but that I remember adoring it.

When I think back to being this age and writing dumb stories with crumbling narrative structures and zero ability to edit, all I remember is being ravishingly in love with the writing itself. I loved everything about it, tumbling head over feet like a new parent with an ugly, verbose baby. I loved being able to commit this late-night fantasy to paper and reread it the next day. It felt more real, substantive. I loved the way my handwriting filled up a line. I loved having an idea and watching it bleed out across a page in ink. I didn’t think about how my characters didn’t make sense or how — fifteen years later — my No. 1 turnoff would be the same giant chunks of expository dialog I was writing.

Read more: Prudence Shen, author of “Nothing Can Possibly Go Wrong,” on why being a bad writer is good (for a while)


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East Coast Gazette has a terrible editorial focus and tends to use a lot of ALL CAPS but TOTALLY NOT BECAUSE OF HARRY POTTER. Stories in progress as well as snapshots will be listed in the "box full of snapshots" below, website archive for stories and assorted tomfoolery is glitterati.

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