I can't remember not writing. When I was five, my family lived in England for about six months and the teacher helped us write journal entries every day. I loved it. (But the double-digit math we had to do made me cry.) In grade six, my teacher, Mrs Pudek, was a poet and her love of poetry was contagious. Also, my enrichment teacher that year was Miss Ford, who was writing a novel for preteens. She became the first published author I knew. And you know what? She was a regular, everyday person. Which meant that maybe I could be a published author someday, too!