8:30 a.m.

About the book mentioned in my profile...

When I was in seventh grade I started writing a book. I knew I wasn't going to be a very good book, since most first books aren't, especially when you're 10, but I wanted the experience of it. And, of course, there was that small chance for my first book wouldn't be terrible, which would bring me instant childhood fame. (In all honesty, I probably would have been sued for plagiarism, since the beginning plot of my story borrowed heavily from Anne McCaffrey's work. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?)

So I started writing. By the time I was 350 pages in, I was beginning eighth grade. Between normal maturation and the increase in skills given by doing that much writing, there was a huge gap in styles between the first and the second part of the book. So I went back and rewrote the first part. Towards the end of eighth grade I was almost ready to finish the entire thing up.

Then we got a new computer. My family knew nothing of backing up, and this is before my computer geek days, so I didn't transfer any data over. I wasn't worried, however, because I had two trusty floppies with copies of my story on them.

Unfortunately, both those floppies were corrupted. (For the next three years I had some very trusty little tea mug mats.) I lost all but the first two chapters of my novel, and spent two days being physically ill. Those 350 pages were an investment of time, and when they disappeared I felt like I had lost two years of my life. (The only other time I've ever felt that way since was when I had to disenchant my Hide of the Wild when Burning Crusade came out for World of Warcraft. When I felt then, I realized it was time to stop playing the game.)

If you're curious about what a chapter in a 10-year-olds book could possibly read like, here's a link to the good half of the surviving bit.