Greg is a typical teenager in most cases. Yep, he gets into trouble in an instant but Greg is more kind and loveable than even most boys his age. Now there is another side of him that very few people barely know. No, he isn’t a serial killer or rapist, and certainly he is not the smartest boy in class. Greg just is very private about the fact he loves reading books and writing stories. His grades are good, but not genius level ... but his mind would sometimes slip away from the classroom setting and drift into a writing mode, somewhere far beyond the present near a plateau of fiction.
He loves playing in fiction-land, sometimes even acting out a part himself in real-time. Some of the women in his stories would have beauty and grace in the way he envisioned his true love to be someday. She would be tall, about 5 foot 6 inches with long dark brown hair and sparkling green eyes like emeralds reflecting the sunlight from a high window. Her breasts would be generously endowed, her skin fair and supple to the touch. Everywhere she would be, the people around her would stare in awe at her striking beauty. Greg doesn’t have a steady girlfriend, though he dates a few girls from school, as well as around town. There is a special girl in his secret life that evolves within his mind. Her name is CarolynAnne and lives a few blocks from his house. Five days a week on his walk to school, Greg passes her two storied house with the well- kept green lawn, flowers springing up in the small garden area near the front door. She looks like the angel of his dreams, having all the features he loves and writes about. Unfortunately, she doesn’t attend his school. Greg will give anything to meet her, maybe even take her out on a date. Right now, CarolynAnne doesn’t know he exists. He was taught by his parents to be mindful of respecting a woman and never to take advantage of sexual opportunities. He sometimes fulfills his teenage frustrations by writing scenes into his private book of stories he keeps hidden from all. Greg is careful to hide his feelings about his writing and thoughts from his family and friends.
He is now sitting on the straight-backed, hardwood chair in the High School guidance counselor’s office. Across the big desk is Miss Cloneston, sitting in a high-backed soft cushioned chair. “Greg, what do you want to do with your life? What avenues will you travel down in this world?” she asks him. Greg is thinking to himself, not looking at her. How was a fifteen-year-old to know what his life would be like five, ten, even twenty years from now?
The guidance counselor is seeing him at the request of his parents. They felt he was not set on his future or career choice and needed to start some planning for college, if this was his direction. She looks at him with an expression of searching, reaching out … trying to pry open the world from deep within that brain of his. Miss Cloneston is maybe fifty years old; he imagines noticing her hair is starting to gray at the temples. She is quite easy to talk to, and most all the students have only good words to say about her. He does not feel intimidated ... well, not very much anyhow. Greg knows he must give her an answer within the next minute or two or she will think he is just playing with her. Greg can never do that, to lead someone on. It just isn’t in his personality makeup.
“ Well, I want to make a name for myself, maybe set the world on fire. I want to do everything that makes me happy” he says earnestly. (What do you say to an older woman that reminds and looks like your mom?) It is always a hard thing to say what is going on in his mind, especially to his parents. Greg is thinking that Miss Cloneston might tell his parents everything he tells her, (his teenage insecurities kicking in) but he has been told that everything said here is ‘completely confidential’. Greg still must be careful, on his guard - he thinks to himself. He must not let on he really wants to be a writer, to write a fantastic novel that the whole universe would want to read. Can she be trusted, he asked himself silently? She has a soft, kind face, a gentle relaxed manner, and even seems genuinely interested in him. No, he must not let on his true feelings.
He has been hurt before when, faced with parental enquiries about his learning to drive next year. Dad and mom both were strong-minded and set in their ways. Dad said, " Greg, you have plenty of time to learn to drive." Mom nodded in agreement, admitting her fears about possible injury or worse if in an accident. She felt he just had not shown enough responsibility for driving yet. They both acted serious and thoughtful, not wanting to cause an argument with him. Greg let slip regarding his secret girlfriend he wanted so much to take out. He was able to catch himself before he spilled too much, but he seemed to see a small twinkle in dad’s eyes in recognition of his teenage years. His mom acted quite stunned that her ‘baby’ might be growing up, that he will be dating girls soon. She told dad that it was too soon for Greg to be driving and not to bring it up again. Nevertheless, this driving force had been in his mind it seems like forever.
Greg has been writing since second-grade, some little stories about fictional heroes he makes up, and bad people in mysteries that plague his imaginative mind. His parents never gave him encouragement to pursue this art. However, through the next eight years, his writing evolved into many stories of different genres, even some romance. Greg had a style all his own, placing his thoughts down on paper as they popped up in his head.
Greg began writing his first full-length novel, a mystery story placed in Egypt during the nineteenth century. He had done a tremendous amount of research on that place and time in-between school studies and spare time. Greg’s English teacher saw the quality of his writing and admired this atypical boy’s talent. Mr. Evansily, the teacher, told Greg’s guidance counselor about him in hopes of encouraging Greg to further this great talent.
This novel was to be his best shot at fame and fortune, he thought. He put his heart and soul into it, carefully watching his grammar and spelling. The ending of the story was near, yet Greg was not sure if it was ready to be ‘The End’. “ I guess time will tell,” he told himself silently. Greg was hesitant about asking for help, not wanting anyone to know of his novel … yet.
The guidance counselor stared at him for a long moment; a slight look of understanding came over her face. She then glanced down at the paper before her on the desk. Looking up again, Miss Cloneston spoke softly, but with a tone of final decision; “ Greg, I would like for you to think about a career involving writing of some kind. Your English teacher has high praise of your writing abilities and it seems to be what you do the best. There are career choices in teaching, publication, as well as Journalism throughout the world. If you have any questions about this, or any other field you are interested in, please come to see me. My office hours are posted on the door.”
Greg was startled by her decision of what might be best for him to pursue. Does she read minds? Can she tell he loves to write? He smiled, and rose to leave saying he will keep in touch with her. Greg thought at that moment, She will be the one of the first persons to get an autographed copy of my book.
It was ten years later, at his book signing in the local bookstore that she stood there at the table in front of him. A smile upon her face, she said, “Greg, I always knew you would be famous one day. Please sign this copy of your marvelous book for me.”