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“Rumors persisted that long ago, though no body had ever been recovered, someone had died in the cave we were about to explore.  Some poor soul named Joe had come to his horrible, unfortunate end lost in the depths of the local cavern outside of town. Being a boy of nine, almost 10, with my trusty sidekick of 7, Chris, the lure of adventure and thrill of exploration would not stop us from entering that very cave urban legend claimed was haunted.

In the sunlight outside we had no fear.

In the darkness inside there was nothing but.

A sudden cave-in had unexpectedly trapped us inside the earth’s dark tunnels. Chris was pinned with his foot jammed under a rock. My arm was bruised and bloody. As our eyes adjusted to the swallowing gloom we spied, there at our feet, the bleached, bare bones of the former cave explorer lost in the distant past.

Then the bones moved.”

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 What was I thinking!

My favorite times in grade four were the last period of each Wednesday afternoon; story writing time! Miss Hamel would pass around pictures to everyone and our assignment was to write a story based on what the picture displayed. Sometimes I was lucky enough to get a fun picture, other times not. During the Spring of  ’74 as the school year was winding down, probably because she had run out of pictures, Miss Hamel let us write a story of our own choosing.

My choice was a piece of fiction about Chris and I trapped in a cave with the reanimated skeleton of old Joe Derdock set on killing us. It was with this story I did something that, as far as I know, had never been done before in my grade four language class. I ended the story with this statement, Stay tuned for part two!

Miss Hamel would often pick a story or two to read out to the class, and that day she picked mine. I still recall the sound of my classmates collective groans as they were left hanging from a cliff. We want more they told Miss Hamel. We want part two! I still remember the feeling it gave me deep inside, hearing the desire for more of my story. I liked that feeling. I look back at that moment in my life and understand it was then and there the storyteller in me was born and I liked having an audience.

So to answer the question, “What were you thinking when you first started your blog?” The answer is simple. I was thinking that four decades later, I am still a storyteller and I still want an audience.

Out of the seven billion people now roaming the surface of this planet, except the few one or two trapped in caves beneath fighting for survival against living skeletons, that audience appears to be you.

I think I still like that feeling!

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17 thoughts on “How My Blogging Started In A Cave…Fighting Skeletons

  1. I actually remember similar assignments as a child. In one, we were given a picture, a first line, and a title, and had to make a story of it. It sort of grew and grew as I did, and I still write notes about it to this day. If I ever write a novel, I have a feeling it’ll be based on that story. LOVE these two lines: “In the sunlight outside we had no fear./In the darkness inside there was nothing but.”

    • Those two lines weren’t in my original draft, but when I was reading it over, just before hitting the publish button they just seemed right, and I had to add them in.

  2. You hit the nail on the head. I love to write and the flame explodes when someone says they like what I wrote. Unfortunately I have conditioned myself to think that when someone does say they like my writing, they must be just saying that.

    • Well Susan, that’s where the nail is supposed to be hit right? On the head. I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt and accepting they mean what they say, until they give me a reason to believe otherwise. And in the end, the thing that matters most is what we feel about what we have written.

  3. I enjoyed your story. I’m not sure how I found your blog. My interest is mainly photography and my posts use very few words. But I really enjoyed your writing. I will have to return to read more.

  4. I liked your story! I also like your reasoning for writing, as I think you articulated what I was thinking better than I could have – the kid can grow up, but you’ll always be a storyteller! I wrote a ton as a kid and as a teenager, and gave it up after adult life hit full force. Now, years later, I’ve decided to come back to it even though it’s been years since I wrote anything that wasn’t work-related. I’m looking forward to reading more from you!

    • Always tell your stories, Crazy! As a storyteller you have no choice. I am glad you decided to come back to it. It can make that full force hitting adult life a lot more interesting. Keep reading, without an audience I am just making very dull music tapping on my keyboard keys.

  5. Pingback: Thank You For This Lobster *Updated* | The Convoluted Menagerie

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