Essay for college

But I didn't just learn about a dormant talent that I had. No, I went back to one that I had abandoned during my freshman year of school. The stress inducing atmosphere of high school gave me a serious case of writer's block. For about two years, I found no interest in writing anymore. But that all changed when Theater students were assigned to write a twenty page play.

At first, I was afraid it would be too much for me and I would just end up writing a jumbled mess of an abomination. While my screen play didn't get selected as one of the scripts that went on to be produced in the school's annual SWAD (Student written and directed plays) Festival, it did reveal to me that deep inside me, I still had my imagination.

Unlike physical strength, imagination is a virtue without boundaries. In the writing world, not even the sky is the limit. I can reach beyond the stars, the planets, even life itself. Writing has more power than any weapon of war. Because, guns and bombs don't end wars, only lives. But the treaties do end the suffering, for however short a time.

It was on the Labor Day of two thousand nine, during my senior year, when I was home alone on a day when other kids were out having fun. I sat down in front of a computer screen and typed. As my fingers flowed over the keyboard, I thought I was only writing a short story. But like a guitarist who only believed he was playing a short song, I ended up writing so much, that I knew not even a week's worth of writing could conclude.

It all started with writing about three kids in a Hummer, driving through the treacherous, icy environment after a mysterious apocalyptic war. I found myself invigorated with a purpose. These kids, I realized, had their fate resting at my fingertips. I could make them feel happy, sad, angry, but at one point, they began to experience things on their own.

When they first encountered a polar bear, “I was mesmerized by its determined strides, finding the soft thud of it's paws on the parking lot oddly soothing. With each breath, it exhaled smoke.” and then went off to meet an underground group of survivors, I knew I had to back things up.

That was how I began to write a novel. It is, by no means, easy to write a book with basically no aid, in a school were most kids don't like reading. But somehow, I managed to finish a first draft before my eighteenth birthday. The easy part had ended. Now it was time for the editing. Something that was, and still is, a challenge to me. But as I edited, I gained knowledge. I learned to make it a habit to use proper grammar, and found writing essays for school assignments an easy task.

As time went by, I continued to edit, writing many short stories along the way, one getting published in Teen Ink Magazine. While not for a particularly big magazine, the fact that it was the only magazine I submitted to gave me confidence in what I did. In time, I gave my novel in progress a name: Tears of Fire.

Months went by; months of me missing SAT testing dates, and months of college deadlines passing me by without my knowledge. But also, events to remember. I participated in my first UIL One Act Play Competition. It was a wondrous feeling, being up on stage, with a judge and an audience watching, and yet, I was oblivious to them; in my own world. I directed and, under dire circumstances, acted in my own play, winning an Honorable Mention trophy in the process.

The man giving a speech to me, and my fellow students during our preview of high school was right. The four years would go by in the blink of an eye. And now that it's done, I only wish to repeat the experience in college.