I think it was my loneliness too, like that of Tim Pears. I have always been an introvert and plunged into my own world. I read a lot, and imagined a lot, and the result was I created something on paper. I can't remember loving poetry, but I remember I wrote poems when I was younger, and some of them were even published in a local newspaper. My classmates made fun of me for being a "poetess".
I also remember reading a story in Ukrainian and enjoying the simile the author used, something about rabbit's ears being like the tulip's leaves. I remember enjoying the accuracy of the simile and wanting to write to invoke the same enjoyment in others.
I don't remember wanting to be or become a writer, I never realized there was a possibility, but at some point, I took up writing a journal and writing romance stories (which were intended novels). It must have been around the time I finished school and entered the university, because I even gave one of these stories to my sister to read, and I think she enjoyed it. At least, she mentioned several times the line that made an impression on her.
At university, I wrote fiction and I went to the creativity group where people read their poems, stories etc. This was the pre-computer time for me, everything I wrote was handwritten. I lost all of it in house moves, not that there was something particularly worthy there, but I'd like to have those "works" as a visual progress log.
Somewhere around that time I developed a dream of being a writer someday, maybe because the group didn't criticize me too much and some of my ideas were liked, and I thought I stood a chance of becoming a real writer one day. Of course, my stories were pathetic like the ones of my fellow creators from the group (pathetic not in the meaning "terrible" or "worth sympathy", but meaning they were full of adolescent pathos). But I still think they were quite good, some of them - some of mine, and some of those I was listening to.
I don't think any of them became a writer, maybe they just quit writing like I did. Around the time I graduated, I stopped writing my diary and any fiction. I blame computers for that, but I think that happened even before I got my first computer. I don't really know why. Again, I can blame my dissertation for discouraging any reading for pleasure (just what I need to) and writing for myself, (I hate writing). But I am not sure that's all that there is to it.
Anyway, now I am still struggling with writing. I think my imagination is shallower now than it was earlier. At least, I struggle more with ideas and with the process. I also question my ability to write almost constantly.
If I happen to become a writer, one day (will write regularly and in length) and maybe even become famous, I will remember this period as my silent period of teaching myself to be a writer.
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