By: Eliza Mimski

When I was a sophomore in high school, my English teacher returned an essay I wrote (don’t remember what it was about much less her name–crap!) with the word Majestic! written on top. At the time, I hadn’t known what majestic meant but it looked pretty impressive, especially with that exclamation point behind it. I looked it up to find out that the word meant quite beautiful, powerful, and admirable. Wow. I’d written something majestic.

I had never thought of myself as a writer before but did from that day on, and I took a special pride in writing my essays. When I entered college I signed up for a creative writing class and I was in love. And then more writing classes, and more and more. From these classes I began writing poetry and then short stories, and I joined a writer’s group that met every few weeks. This went on in one way or the other for several years. My group-mates and I shared our writing, critiquing it. I never missed a meeting.

It wasn’t until I reached thirty that I began writing a novel. The funny thing about my novel is that I had no plans on publishing it, not until decades later when I’d finished two more. Then I began the grueling task of pitching them to agents at writing conferences. Up until this point, I’d been writing because I had to. In other words, I could not not write as it was a force that took me over. The business aspect of writing was separate from the inner world I daily entered where the world slipped away and it was just me and the words and our love affair.

Two years ago I decided to self-publish, for after all I was seventy-seven at the time and didn’t want to die without seeing my work in print. So I put my three novels on KDP and now am working on advertising. Tech hell!

I will never stop writing. I can’t. There will be no divorce. And it all started in that sophomore class of mine by one teacher who took the time to praise my writing. Let it be said that I graduated from college and became an English teacher. Yeah! And you know what? I’ve had two of my students contact me and thank me for helping them to learn how to write.

Do I remember just what I said or did to bring these two situations about? Not at all. All I know is that I helped to awaken them to writing.