The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

So I had to write this letter to my classmates about me as a writer, to introduce myself to my writing group. I thought the idea really kinda cool. So I’m going to share now.

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To Whom it May Concern:

Some say I was born with pencil in hand. They really don’t understand how, you know, gestation and birth and whatnot works.
But yeah, I’ve been writing in some capacity for as long as I can remember. I recall an amazing tale about three cops written, with illustrations, in the first grade. I recall attempting to write a poem about the very poetic topic of me throwing up in the car back in second grade. These masterpieces were, however, only the beginning.
Throughout all of grade school I was writing. I must have like… 10 notebooks mostly full of half-novels I wrote in pencil during campouts and whatnot. They were painfully Mary Sue. What else could they be? But they were always there, and I was always working with the adventures of my latest female protagonist in my head, for better or worse. Hell, I still do to this day, though I tend not to write them down anymore.
In high school, I picked up the poetry bug. It crawled all around, and was kind of disturbing to look at, so I decided to write poems instead of notes during class instead of collecting insects. They were very strong on the rhyme and very cute, for the most part. Greeting card-style, you could say. I still write those FOR Greeting cards, but I didn’t really think of them like that back then. I even think I read a few of them at a Journey reading during my first semester here, The thought very much embarrasses me.
There was an attempt at my high school to create a literary magazine called Harvest. It wasn’t very impressive, but I submitted, with a packet entitled “A Hostile Takeover of Harvest.” It did not get the reception that I was looking for, and I was told very clearly that I would not be taking over the entire magazine.
During my final years of high school, I acquired an old laptop, and with it, I started to write a real novel. It was still a bit Mary Sue-ish, but much more subtle about it. I wrote, hell, at least half of it. I had about 120 pages written, I believed, before I stopped, It was one of the biggest writing projects I ever undertook.
I also started “blogging” during this time period, though it wasn’t called that. I was writing on a fairly regular basis on OpenDiary.com, which then eventually all transferred over to my actual blog, GetMeOutOfThis.Net. I still write daily on it, talking about my responses to games and movies and whatnot in a vaguely review-like fashion, but ultimately just giving myself a dumping ground for the thoughts I have, and not really expecting anyone to read it.
College became a magical time where I discovered two of my great literary loves: The Parenthesis and the Personal Essay. The Parenthesis came to me during my first lit class, when I dived into the work of e.e. cummings for the first time. It hit me how limited I was taking my poetry, and I started making it look more like how my mind works. I did this by liberal use of the parenthesis, having layers and layers of them throughout, and abandoning non-internal rhyme most of the time. I think my poetry has improved quite a bit because of it, though I sometimes make things really hard to read. I also took a class called “The Art of the Essay” which taught me how completely awesome Personal Essays can be. They can be serious creative works, and not just assignments, and I started treating them as such, constructing them.
And that brings us to today. I’m busy with schoolwork and normal, money-getting work and vidjeo gamez, but I do attempt to take the time to write creatively every once and while. I especially enjoy classes that force me to do so, though I think I’ve taken just about every single one of them available to me, so I guess I’m out of look. Good thing I’m about to graduate, I suppose.