Writers' Ink at Caledon Public Library

How I Became a Writer [#2]

By watching Daniel Boone


Daniel Boone was a man

Such a big man

And then trying to recreate his stories

By scribbling sweet nothings for hours

On tiny little chalkboard

Was just knee high to a grasshopper

Couldn’t write

Couldn’t read

Couldn’t spell

Multitasking four year old

Designing and dreaming

With what I thought were letters

The beginning of my identity

And the beginning of understanding

The identities of cowboys and Indians

Channelling my heroes

Cowboys and Indians

My favourite movies

How to become a writer

To be right to her

So right to her

Used to stare into the mirror

And ask her out to play

But she didn’t come out

And we never touched

Started asking questions about the big mysteries in life

Like why does that little ant

Scurry around so on my hairless tanned leg

I tell you

Quite the tickle

Love the tickles

With writing always trying to get to the ‘other side’

Like one of my first poems about the moon she follows us

As the sails go by

Her face she cradle a fetus inside

As she frolics with us to the other side


It’s like private

It’s personal

It’s for all the world to see

Can’t escape the limelight

And the limelight can’t escape me

Pretty tall order for the shyest

Kid in the family

Learned about characters

In fairy-tales

Like Jack

He was such a resilient character

He cuts down the beanstalk

He believes in magic

He faces his fears

I always found the giant to be frightening

And overbearing

Grade 13

Wrote essay about Woolf’s Orlando

Entire paper was one lengthy

Piece of essay penned entirely

In stream of consciousness style

First essay of its type

Got a D

But boy did

I have an imagination

Boasted ‘deadly Johnson’

My favourite English teacher of all time

Shunned myself,

Shamed myself

Not a writer

Now a writer

Maybe happened upon a writer

On the way to the fair

God knows…

For me writing is about

Searching for meaning

HEARING the linger

Of words

I’m going to be a writer now

Going to be a writer now

Na na na boo boo

A boo boo

A boo


A boo hoo



No more sleep walking

These boots are made

For sweet talking

I’m going to string the words

Together and celebrate

Sock it to me

Sock it to me

Sock it to me

Sock it Sock it Sock it

Inject me with the right words

Sometimes blocks happen

And I feel as though I swallowed

A pair of my husband’s socks

And they aren’t  ‘happy foots’

They are those grey and white

Woollen ones with a thin red edge

Muffled and dry to the touch

Became a non-fiction writer

At onset of career

Thirty years ago

As a  Social Worker

I started writing down peoples’ narratives

And encouraged them

For a ‘re-write’

Question now is HOW

Upon retirement

Do I become a fiction writer…

I suspect it’s not that much different

Just plunk myself right in the middle

Of the perforated edges

Of peoples’ lives.

Patiently awaiting

A precision landing

Every single day.

by Brenda Wainman

About Alton Chapter

The Alton Chapter of Writers' Ink meets the 1st Wednesday of the month from 6:30 to 8:30 pm at the Alton Branch.

One comment on “How I Became a Writer [#2]

  1. David Chesterton
    February 24, 2017

    Thanks Brenda,
    I really enjoyed your Daniel Boone. Interesting that the surge of waves a few years away seemed to match the surges in your writing.

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This entry was posted on February 24, 2017 by in Alton Chapter and tagged , , .

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