Have you ever stumbled upon an forgotten journal or notebook and read through your old stuff? If so, than you know the many emotional stages you go through when you read your childhood writing. It's a roller coaster ride, to say the least.
From the poetry of my childhood to the Harry Potter-inspired stories of my adolescence to the emotionally-charged journals of my teen years, I have been writing one thing or another for as long as I can remember. If I wasn't up late at night reading with a flashlight under my covers, I was jotting down all of my thoughts, feelings, and ideas, convinced each one was as brilliant as those of the professional writers I looked up to. Whenever I wrote, whatever I wrote, I was always so sure that anytime I put my pen to paper, I was recording a *very important* story that was pure gold. Now that I have a solid decade, not to mention a writing degree and years of experience as a professional, between the writing of my youth and now, I can see clearly now what I couldn't then: I was no Sylvia Plath.
In fact, whenever I find my old notebooks, I go through the typical nine emotional stages of reading old writing, and I have to say, it's always a doozy. If you've ever spent the afternoon diving into old diaries, you know exactly what I mean.