Where it all began...Part 2

I also remember that I especially loved banging away on my dad's old typewriter (when he wasn't looking), and used to imagine what it would like to be all grown up, writing my first novel. Imagine the patience I would have had to have, and the  amount of correction fluid I would have had to use. I had never quite gotten the hang of typing like a typist...still haven't actually. Anyway, it was the feeling...I could be the next Enid Blyton or Carolyne Keene...when I grow up. That is the problem with us writers, we have vivid imaginations!