Memories . . . and using them in writing.
I’m always telling students how much I use memories in my writing. I am lucky to have very clear memories of my childhood, back to about 2 1/2 years of age.
One very real one is being totally determined, at three, never to miss a Sunday school session. Those who had perfect attendance received a prize (a book at the end of the year.)
One rainy winter’s morning my father dropped me off in the church car park and watched as I ran through the mud and puddles toward the door. Yes, I fell flat face-down into a big dirty puddle. My darling Dad rescued me, took me home where Mum cleaned me up, dressed me in fresh clothes and then Dad returned me to Sunday School for the final 5 minutes. Why? Because I didn’t want to miss out on a book.
Here it is!