Why I almost quit writing

I will always remember, when I was at school, I had an English teacher who was a right arrogant little wanker. Every Friday he would write five titles on the Chalkboard, and we were to choose one to write an essay about. The stuff he gave us was total rubbish to me. For example it could be an essay on a day at the beach, the football game, your hobbies and pass times etc. This was not for me by a long shot.

I would go home and write my own stories just to show him what I could do, and how creative I was. Having spent the weekend writing my fiction that would be page after page sometimes 40 A4 sheets long. I would go to school and hand him my work. I was expecting him to be floored by what i had written but instead he would get this evil gleam in his eye, rip up my work without even reading it and throw it in the bin then tell me “You write what I tell you to write not your own stories,” Oh believe me I wanted to punch his fucking lights out so bad, but I kept cool and kept handing in my own works of fiction until one day it happened. He actually sat at his desk and read what I had given him. The strangest thing happened. He apologized for being so hard on me, and gave me an A for my writing.

When teachers try to keep you down by telling you that you will never amount to nothing, or that you write what they want you to write, say to yourself “Fuck you, I will write what I love to write and that’s my fiction, and I don’t care if you like it or not,”

You know looking back at it now, I am fully convinced that there was a slight bit of jealousy on his part the muppet, because I could do something that he probably couldn’t do. I might not be a great writer but I don’t care what other people think. It’s what I love doing and will continue to keep writing till the the day I fucking well die.

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