I would like to tell you that I loved writing ever since I discovered brown ink in my gaping diaper. Even though I spoke it every day, writing the English language evaded me most of my young life. Every year the subject grew a little harder for me. By the time I reached my senior year I just guessed at things like punctuation.
With my dread of English I have little idea why I chose journalism as an electives in my senior year of high school. I just chock it up to one of my many clueless decisions in life. The journalism teacher gave us a lengthy assignment on the first day of class. Since it came on first day most of the students just ignored it as if she had given it by mistake. I had a nasty habit doing my homework even if it took all night. The next day the instructor asked who had done their homework assignment. Only I raised my hand. On the basis of that one assignment, she chose me as the paper's editor.
Even though English made little sense to me, journalism for some odd reason did. It appeared simple enough. Answer the five W questions, put the important stuff at the start of the article, create a catchy headline, throw in a picture or two, lay it out, and publish. Fortunately, I had a column called Aden's Ancedotes which required little actual English. I wrote this pun-filled satire about teachers with the help on an excellent caricature artist. It usually ran a hundred words at most.
With that illustrious background I marched off to college to pursue a degree in Chemical Engineering which I abandoned when I discovered the true nature of engineering. Do you know that they actually calculate fluid flow through pipes? I wanted something more exciting. In another clueless decision I switched to English. They tried again. I still failed to learn the fine art of writing.
Along the way, I have had near misses with the writing life. A seminary professor encouraged me to publish. A pastor friend sent me to a writer's conference. A friend explained to me the rules of grammar in a way that I could understand. I sent an article to a health magazine. Wham, the first time out of the box I got published and a $300 check. It still represents the easiest money I ever made as a writer. Evidently, fate has either blessed or cursed me and now you. I'll keep on writing. I just hope you'll keep on reading. Oh, and send some money please. Send to Rollie Aden (aka the finalword).
