I’ve been neglectful
Nov 6 · 2 min read
Mostly of myself, really.
I was lauded for my creative writing back when I was eight or nine. My English teacher (sorry, I have no facility for recalling names from that far back) encouraged me and praised my work. I actually enjoyed writing. What I really enjoyed, however, was reading, and I read a lot.
I then fantasized about becoming a science fiction writer as great as Isaac Asimov or Jerry Pournelle or Robert “Fucking” A. Heinlein since I was twelve. I’d already devoured books like 1984, Caves of Steel, Stranger in a Strange Land, Brave New World, A Mote in God’s…

