I don't think I ever really liked reading or writing until I was told I was good at it. I believe this was in the fourth grade, when Mrs. Krippendorf told me I could be a funny Steven King. Most of my memories of reading and writing before this amount to nothing but both physical and psychological pain. I was a fairly neurotic child and, as of now, a fairly neurotic adult. I often needed validation from outside sources in order to feel good about things. I'm not saying this because I want sympathy; I'm saying this because it is key to understanding why I began to love writing in the first place.
