[Note: The two entries below were written when I'd just turned 14 years old.]


Written: 13 November, 1984

The morning is my favorite time of day. So, during the summer one night, I set my alarm for 4:00 AM and went to bed. I awoke, dressed, and walked onto the porch. It was still very dark outside and created a scene and landscape of my street that should have frightened me, yet only nourished the bizarre excitement pounding within my skull. The clouds were a dark gray and flew at an unbelievable fast speed across the star-lit sky. The houses -- houses I have known all my life -- appeared dark and deadly, the dwelling of recluses and warlocks. The tree branches were like spider's fingers, dancing all about. Shadows were everywhere.

"First Snow of Winter"

Written: 16 November, 1984

The snow fell for the first time Sunday morning. Imagine, if you can, me, jumping about in excited anticipation. Somehow the snow evoked strange emotions of old-fashioned Victorian winter within me. Thanksgiving shall soon arrive and I will sleep in and wake up late. I will stay up late at night and watch Twilight Zone and other far-out midnight shows. Then, in the morning, I will complete work on BOOK ONE of my novel. I will rarely venture out into the cold outside.