Eight Moments in the Life of the Writer: Number 7

As an avid reader, I tried fervently to emulate those writer whom I loved.  As any girl who grew up in the 90s was want to do, I loved Ann M. Martin and Paula Danzinger.  My friend Ashley and I were determined to write a book based on letters, just like our favorite characters Tara*Starr and Elizabeth.  The characters in our own novel were deep and complex.  My character’s name was Albany.  Like the city in New York.  Apparently great literary works tend to have girls with stripper names.  We saved our stories on a floppy disk and passed it back and forth to each other.  Ashely irritated my creative genius by balking at a chapter I wrote in which Albany fell from a fourth story window and was miraculously unharmed.  Slipping in the floppy disk, I noticed she commented, “um. This isn’t realistic.” Forget realistic!  Did this girl want a story or not!?  Would the great Ann M. Martin let such a pesky thing as realism hold her back?  No!  Her characters were always doing ridiculous things like getting stranded on islands after competing in sailboat races.  Stories needed drama.  They needed excitement.  “Fine.  Maybe it was a second story window,” I conceded.  We never did finish the story, but with a name like that, I’m sure Albany goes on to fall out sixth story windows, is hooked on drugs and rides a Harley.  In her stripper heels.  I learned to add creative flair, but not to be ridiculous.  I mean, what kind of name is Albany?