Hi, I’m Elle. I wrote my first book at age 7 called “Tommy the Turtle at the Beach.” I wrote it in green crayon on wrinkled construction paper and glued the ends together like real darn published book. I also illustrated the whole thing because I couldn’t afford an artist on my seven-year-old allowance. 

The story was an Aesop’s fable-inspired tale of a wild young turtle struggling with the unfair chains of authority (his mom). He runs away while at the beach, and a rogue wave representing the chaos of death (I assume, as I colored the wave black and wrote “death” with an arrow pointing at it) drags him out to sea. Tommy laments the shrinking shoreline, struggles to swim, and encounters a school of fish who mock his pain. Ignoring that Tommy is a turtle and could probably swim just fine, I end the tale with a giant oceanic whirlpool dragging him to the uncharted depths of the sea because I was irrationally afraid of rogue whirlpools when I was seven. He dies.

My book was a bit morbid, even for seven. So, I added an alternative ending where a fisherman rescues Tommy. Everyone cheers, including the do-nothing lifeguard I drew in red crayon. I put my finished debut novel (with both endings) on the family bookshelf next to the Bible because that’s where it belongs.

When I’m not reading, I’m writing, thinking about writing, lamenting about writing, or wondering why I continue writing when I could be a very successful accountant with a steady day job, a mid-range car, and a mug that says “I hate Mondays” but unironically. Unfortunately, I’m not very good at math, so writing it is.