chloe m. kookogey
When I was nine, I passed my happiest hours writing swashbuckling three-page melodramas in a drafty attic. (I loved Little Women — could you tell?) Heroic Roderigo figured in many of those stories. Masked balls, dueling lords, and fainting spells were my favorite motifs.
When I was twelve, I began my first "book": The Story of Rose. Based heavily on L.M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, it never ran past seven chapters.
When I was thirteen, I began working on the book that would become my debut novel, Violets Are Blue.
When I was fourteen, I self-published Violets Are Blue under my then nom de plume, Elizabeth Rose.
Today I am an eighteen-year-old college freshman pursuing a degree in English and classical education while braving the Northern temperatures. Though my writing shapes into more academic essays than novels now, my love for the written word has not changed. Historical fiction is still my favorite genre, but I've also branched out into some contemporary fiction and historical fantasy.
Sometimes I tremble when I think of stepping out into the world Chesterton accurately christened "wild as an old wife's tale," but I'm learning to walk daily in the grace and provision of the Lord. And so I say with Dorothy Sayers, "Was never man lived longer for the hoarding of his breath / Here be dragons to be slain, here be rich rewards to gain . . . If we perish in the seeking, why, how small a thing is death!"
In the face of the Almighty's glory, how small a thing indeed.
welcome to literary lane.