The last time I was at my Father's house he dug up yet another old file folder of my school work. He saves this stuff for some unknown reason and from the dates on most of it these files have made it from Iowa to our first house in Connecticut to our second and then out to Ohio well after my sister and I graduated college. Well, I'm glad he did because in browsing this latest bit of suburban archaeology I found this, a story I wrote circa 1980. Much to my surprise, it is a crime story. I assume my first. It certainly doesn't appear to be written for any school assignment. This was just writing for the pleasure of it
There are several thing I love about this find. First, why the hell was a boy of such an age (10 or 11, not being able to pinpoint an exact date on it but doing a decent job of assuming based on the other layers of strata surrounding it in the file folder) why was I writing about guns and what appears to be loansharking? I have posted the clearer typewritten version, my sister takes credit for the typing, and the handwritten original draft – both with bonus illustrations! Just click to make them legible if you dare.
It goes without saying it is bad and shows no innate talent for the written word at all but some of the lines are classic such as my parenthetic aside when the female character stops off a clothing store "(It is usual for girls to do that sort of thing)" Wow. The ten-year old me was sexist I guess.
I also love my reluctance to try spelling out Minnesota so I instead use Minn.
It is not hard to stay humble of my own skills at writing but if I ever need to be taken down a peg or two I'll just read this and remember how little I knew then and how little has changed since.
And how did I know what a Luger was? Too much TV.