Write what you know about. Well, that should be easy. I know nothing. Or not much, anyway. Thing is, I've gotten into the bad habit of learning a little bit about everything. I think it's my parents' fault, you know. What isn't, these days?
You see, my parents decided I needed to learn the alphabet. The hardest part, for me was getting past the 25th letter. It sounded like a such a good letter, too. "Y". My mother tells me that it was one of my favourite letters. I still haven't stopped using it.
After I learned all the letters, my parents took turns teaching me that each of those letters made a sound. When you put the sounds together, they made "words". Everyone else my age was sounding out in "Mr. Whiskers" while I was deciphering the "Toronto Telegram". By the time the rest of my class made it to "Treats and Treasures", I was reading "Emma", Andre Norton, Zane Grey and worse.
Now, mind you, while my grammar and spelling were excellent, my ability to pronounce those words needed some work. I took great delight in trying out new words on my parents. For example, in the West there's something called a "corridor". I'm used to calling it a 'crosswalk'. The City of Toronto, for some unknown reason and according to my pronunciation, had 'ped-e-stray-knee-an' crossings. And things that are common and ordinary are called "pedestrian". My mother, up until the day she died, couldn't go by a pedestrian crossing without smiling.
When I was old enough, babysitting became a source of income and education. Late night movies had me delving into French history to find out if Leslie Howard's character was real, and into science to find out if vampires and werewolves were possible.
From science, I developed in interest in "Sherlock Holmes", "Perry Mason", and the "Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys" series. The "Trixie Belden" mystery series offered a wealth of possibilities. Andre Norton was my introduction to science fiction and C. S. Lewis presented me with fantastic possibilities. I learned about horses from Walter Farley, dragons from Anne McCafferey, Canada from Farley Mowat, and Ronald Welch introduced me to knights in shining armour. Being allowed to spend the day in the library was heaven. I'd pack a lunch, leave just after breakfast and be home before bedtime. They wouldn't let me stay in the library over night.
My Gr. 10 English teacher decided that we should take a greater interest in reading. He asked us to record all the books we read, beginning in September. He gave us each a 5" x 7" index card, and, as we completed each book, we recorded the title and author on the card. I finished six cards before Christmas, 20 - 25 entries per card. He questioned me on them. I remembered most of the books, to his amazement, except for the Harlequin Romances I'd snitched from my mother. I'd raid her library about Thursday afternoon when all my other books had been read at least once. Some had been read twice. The romances tended to blur together as far as specific details went, but I guess I did well enough.
Not having anything better to do, I agreed to help this English teacher out during the "Parent-Teacher" interview nights. I would be his secretary. For giving up three evenings, he presented me with a copy of "The Complete Works of Wm. Shakespeare". I guess he figured that would keep me away from the romances. It didn't, until I discovered something about Shakespeare that I didn't know before. He liked unicorns, too. Around that time, I was developing what every teenaged girl does. A passion for 'cute' things. As I remember, my choices were Paul Olah or unicorns. The unicorns were harder to find outside books, but Paul...
I'm sure you can appreciate my dilemma. I had a choice between two phenomenal men - Paul, who didn't even know I existed, or Shakespeare, who knew all about unicorns and fantasy creatures. The book still graces my shelves, along with dozens of fantasy creatures, but I wonder whatever happened to Paul?
So what do I know well enough to write about? I still can't think of anything I'm an expert at doing. But I've made you smile for about 750 words. It's not a bad start.
Peg