Eric Burns-White

I remember the first story I wrote for public consumption. It was a fantasy story -- real swords and sorcery type stuff, with some fantasy thrown in. I was a freshman in High School. It involved a young hero fighting a dragon, and there was lots of coincidence and the like.

I submitted it to a school district contest. They accused me of plagiarism -- my teacher was offended at the suggestion, and came right to my house to talk to me and my parents about it. So I wrote a few pages of sequel in front of him and handed it to him.

I won the contest that year. I entered the next year but was disqualified for writing 3,000 words instead of capping it at 2,000 words. The director of the competition gave me his autographed copy of "Mother Night" in consolation and, if I recall correctly, resigned from the competition not long afterward. Some time later, I learned one of the judges was a high school teacher who was pretty frustrated with her own writing career, and had a habit of lashing out at talented students. So... you know. Yay on her life choices, right?

My cat. She sits on my chest and meows in my face until I get up and give her her morning medication -- which she sees as 'guaranteed treat time.' And, once you're up, you might as well start the day, right?