The first person who suggested I might become a writer was my eighth grade English teacher, Mrs. Recht (pronounced wrecked). The irony was that she wasn’t trying to encourage me; she was humiliating another student.
She’d given us a book report assignment — read a book, then write something about it. No big deal.
I was definitely into reading then and I remember the story (but not the book’s title), which was about a kid drawn into these scary, dangerous woods to search for her friend, and discovering a coven of witches who lived at a decrepit mansion. Scary shit for a tween-level book.
My friend, Mark, who sat beside me at the time, blew off the assignment. He didn’t read a book, and he sure as hell didn’t write a report about not reading a book. Mrs. Recht was frustrated with him.
Mark all but laughed at her, which pushed her to the brink. But he didn’t stop there.
“I don’t care about books,” Mark said. “I don’t ever want to write.”
Mrs. Recht approached him slowly, her eyebrows raised so high that they merged with her hairline. “You’ll never be a writer,” she said, her voice strained to a pitch matching what I thought the witches in the book I read sounded like.
She pointed her finger at me. “Mickey could be a writer, but you’ll never have that gift.”
This was meant to hurt Mark, of course, more than to encourage me. Nevertheless, the seed was planted.
Lest you think I became the teacher’s pet after that incident, I assure you that wasn’t the case. A few weeks after this incident, we had a silly assignment of embedding vocabulary words in a word search puzzle of our own design. It was around spring break, and Mrs. Recht didn’t want anything to grade. It was as simple as it sounds: put a dozen words on a grid, fill in the blanks with random letters, and hand it in. That’s all we had to do.
I, however, decided to make use of those random letters on the grid and spelled out a few choice comments as a joke:
- FUCKMRSRECHT
- RECHTISABITCH
- RECHTUM
Note that the last one, “RECHTUM” is pronounced rectum.
Turns out, Mrs. Recht didn’t get the joke. When confronting me, she kept her fury contained, but I knew I’d gone too far. She sent me to the office.
I was able to keep the principal from suspending me from school, and didn’t even get paddled on the ass, but I was kicked out of English class for two weeks.
It wasn’t until my senior year in high school, when I began reading better fiction, that the seed planted in 8th grade began to sprout. Of course, how I kept that seedling alive the ensuing twenty years is another story. Especially because I went to college to study engineering while enrolled in Air Force ROTC. Things could really have turned out differently.
As for Mark, he kept his word and never became a writer.
He attended Cleveland State, and for a while was working with his uncle cleaning office building drapes at night. Not the most glamorous life, but it was honest work.
Later, he found his footing in advertising. I don’t know if he wrote copy, but he ended up a Vice President at his company. Then he started his own advertising company which he sold for eight figures.
He was retired at 50, living in a posh, Manhattan neighborhood, enjoying a glamorous life. I imagine every evening, as he peers out at the city from his penthouse apartment, sipping an Old Fashioned, he raises his glass to Mrs. Recht, whose attempt at humiliation started a fire in him that would lead to a life of luxury.
He got the fire to become independently wealthy; I got the seed to become a writer.
Every evening, as I stand on the tiny deck behind my house in Lansing, and crack open a Pabst Blue Ribbon, I raise my can to the memory of Mrs. Rechtum.
Meanwhile, at My Writing Desk…
I’ve spent the past three weeks revising the latest novel. I think it’s ready for early readers (you know who you are!).
If you happened to read Ashley Undone, now would be a great time to review it somewhere, and let me know. (Of course, any time is a great time to review someone’s book, as it helps others know if they’d enjoy it.)
You don’t have to write a report, despite Mrs. Recht’s insistence that I do so in 8th grade. Just a sentence or two is all that’s needed to help someone know if they’d enjoy the book.
Maybe You’d Like
Here is a book giveaway I’m participating in that is a great way to get some great books for free:
eBook & Paperback Sweepstakes!
(2) Winners of eBook “Gift Baskets” of ALL ebooks
Other Winners of individual ebooks or paperbacks (randomly selected)
I’m also in a group promotion for sci-fi & fantasy, so check it out for some free books:
https://storyoriginapp.com/to/koimcWU
Next Picayune
The next Picayune may be late, like this and the previous ones, but it’ll show up. Stay tuned!
All the best and thanks for reading the Mickey Picayune.
—mickey