I am a writer…or at least I like to say that I am. I haven’t written anything of value in a while. However, my seven-year-old son, Cody, actually IS a writer. He doesn’t identify himself as a writer. He doesn’t need to. He just writes. When I tried to explain to him that I am taking classes to learn how to write books he replied:
“That doesn’t make any sense. Writing books is easy. I can teach you. All you have to do is come up with an idea, get some paper, staple it together, and then write it down. Duh!”
He knows what he’s talking about. He writes and illustrates a book a week. Yep, a book a week. I’ve been trying to write a book for three years. I have nothing.
I was already feeling quite crappy about my lack of writing when tonight he tells me, “I write poetry on the bus.”
“You do what?”
“I write poetry on the bus. It makes me feel better.”
“Can I see it?”
“I put them in my notes on my iPod Touch. But I’m not done with them yet.”
Apparently he knows about first drafts and revisions. Go figure!
Here are two of his poems exactly as he typed them:
School. Is. My
Favorite place. Better. At
home. Than. School. I
love. My. Mom. And. My.
Brother. I. Miss. My.
Mom. And. Have. A.
Good. Time. But. Just.
Remember. School. Is. A.
Great. Place. To. Be. So
you. Can. Learn
217. Is. My. Bus. To.
I. Love. My. Bus
It’s. even. Funner. To.
Play. With. My. Bus.
So, now I’m feeling really really crappy about my lack of writing. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he is also a budding photographer. Since I really want to learn photography, too, I’m feeling even worse. The picture above is one he took of himself with his iPod Touch. I still haven’t figured out how he took it, but I love it.
I hope I can be just like him when I grow up.