Writing has always been my most difficult part of English. Reading, on the other hand, is something I could do all day; however, with writing, I grimace just thinking about it. It was not that I did not have anything to say, because I actually have quite a bit to say. I just could never figure out how to phrase what I had to say in just right way on the page. My mom taught me to read and write at a young age. After that, I would devour any book that I could get my hands on. However, I have had trouble with writing since it became more than just my alphabet and numbers.
In elementary, I got through assignments by making my projects read like a boring fact book. This way was awesome for a high grade, not so great for writing interesting stories. The first report that I remember writing was in second grade. We had to do a project for history class about a president, complete with a two page report. We had three weeks to complete the project. I chose Thomas Jefferson as my topic. I had my poster made, with a lot of pictures and captions, done within one week of getting the project. My mom took me to the library to do some research on Thomas Jefferson. I found so much stuff. Then I sat down to write. I could not think of anything to put on the paper. The due date got closer and closer. I still had no report to turn in. Finally on the eve of the due date, I sat down and forced myself to begin writing. The day had arrived; I was presenting my project. Our teacher, Mrs. Mullins, called us up alphabetically. My last name is Hensarling, so I had to wait for a while. Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was my turn to present my project. I went to the front of the class and began presenting. Soon I was done. I turned in my poster and report on Thomas Jefferson. A few days later, Mrs. Mullins handed us our grades. I looked at mine and I got a “B”. I had never made less than an “A” before. I took it home and showed my mom. She said, “Oh,...
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