J.U.N.G.L.E.

When I was 4 or 5 years old, my mother made me sit at the kitchen table while she cooked dinner. I had to practice writing my name, address, the alphabet. And like any kid, I must have eaten up these moments, feeling as if I had her solely to myself. As an adult though, I know that it was probably a way to tether me to a seat and keep me in her sight. Not that I was a bad kid. I guess that she was a multi-tasker before it was truly popular.

But I digress. This is about writing after all...

I remember the first word that I ever spelled. While sitting performing one of these writing tasks. I put togehter a string of letters in an attmpt to spell something, anything! It read something like this:

AHTHIJGUOPLWHUNAKLEOTJKEOJUNGLEQRPASZMLKFREQW

And I asked my mom to "read" is and tell me if I spelled any words and she picked out jungle. I remember my elation to this day. I was so proud of myself and I read it over and over. And so I think that maybe, somehow, if I keep stringing paragraphs into chapters, I will have a book. It's not quite that simple but the concept of bilding something up until you hit upon something valuable, feels right.