So, having concluded that writing was tedious and desks and offices didn’t relieve its tedium, I gave up my career as an author and went on to become a teenager which, in the 50’s, meant saddle shoes and bobby sox, skirts down to our ankles and sweater sets (preferably cashmere, but who could afford them?) and a single strand of pearls.

Like a teenager at any time, I wanted to be important in the general scheme of things. Some of my friends and I chose the school newspaper as our route to fame. It was called The Crystal, and was published once a month on glossy paper. It was very large (like 14×20) and took a lot of work to fill up. Many reporters were needed, and when I asked the advisor if I could join the staff, she said I could, but only provisionally. If I could manage not to run in the halls or on the stairs, be on time for my classes and get decent grades, yes, then I could join the staff.

It worked. From that point on I was careful to stay within the rules, and in my junior year I became the features editor, responsible for humorous and/or interesting stories. And so, I began writing creatively again. Then was when I realized that editing and reworking a piece was where the fun lay. I did features and editorials right through senior year, and then was off to college without thinking much more, for a while, about my writing career. Here’s my high school: Libbey.

On the National Register of Historic Places. But there weren’t enough kids in the district living nearby to keep it open, so they recently blew it up.


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