I was a weird kid, but don’t worry, I grew up to be a weird adult, so it all worked out. Only now, I don’t have random people, who also hold power over me as to whether or not I get to keep writing, judging my writing like a literary agent or publisher – but who won’t pay me any money. Now, I get to keep writing whether I get down-graded or not. Yay!

Back to when I was in middle school: the assignment the teacher gave to the class was a fiction story. There were pretty loose parameters, mostly length, and we were advised, as always, to follow standard grammatical rules, etc. Fine. Well, here’s the deal, I am NOT a fiction writer. Since I had to be, I stepped up and thought of a cool idea.

My story was about a scientist. She was super smart and she had discovered something big about the universe. She was going to present her ideas to some board or panel (not that I knew how scientists actually relayed their ideas at this point, but work with me, I was 12). Anyway, she kept not sleeping well, having horrible nightmares about being choked to death, felt like someone was watching her, but she knew the info to be too important to keep quiet. The day arrived and she was going to present her findings.

What she had uncovered, as only the reader got to find out, was that this universe was actually a portion of a molecule that resided inside some being in another, vast (to us) universe. And, the molecules that we thought so tiny actually contained entire universes. (Side note: when I saw Men in Black, I had the passing thought that, just maybe, they’d stolen my idea, but that’s another story altogether). Please, don’t ask my how she knew, her methodology, or whatever. She was science-y, okay?

Well, when this scientist lady went to reveal all that she had found, she stood up in front of the panel, began to speak, but all of a sudden she was dry in the mouth, saw shadows start to move, and then her throat constricted. It was later reported that she had had a heart attack and died. Mysteriously, all her work had gone up in flames, and no one knew what she was going to reveal. The end.

Now, this may not have been the most gripping story anyone could have written, but my grammar was fine, I met the length requirement, and all other parameters, as requested. But, on my paper, and I kid you not, my teacher wrote that my story was “weird.” I got marked down two grade because of my plot. No joke. I got a “C,” on my fiction paper all because it was weird.

Looking back, that’s not a bad thing. I guess I was just ahead of my time, and she just didn’t have the vision. She’d have called Men in Black “not believable” or something. 😉


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