The First Story I Ever Wrote (And Why It Was So Bad)

We all start somewhere, right? For me, that "somewhere" was Mortal Peril, a truly ridiculous novel I wrote in the fifth grade. It had everything: kids with special powers, an alternate dimension, a vaguely defined villain, and absolutely zero coherent world building. It was, in hindsight, terrible. But it was mine.

The Premise (If You Can Call It That)

The story followed a group of kids who tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and fell into another world where they each gained a random magical power. Why did the sidewalk have these powers? Who was in charge of this other dimension? I had no idea! I was ten!

Once there, the kids had to fight against some evil force that I never actually defined. It was just “bad.” That was enough conflict, right?

Each kid got a different ability—because I had read enough books to know that characters should have distinct powers, even if they made no sense. One kid could control fire. Another had super speed. One girl could talk to animals but only when it was convenient to the plot. Did these powers have limits? Of course not! That would require rules!

Why It Was So Bad

1. No World building – I threw these kids into a magical world and never explained how it worked. Were there other people there? Were the kids the first ones to fall through the sidewalk? No clue!

2. Mary Sues Everywhere – Every character was way too powerful, never really struggled, and conveniently knew how to use their abilities instantly.

3. Dialogue That Was Just… Yikes – I remember a scene where a character shouted, “We have to stop the darkness with our many powers!” Stop the what? Who knows!

4. Absolutely No Planning – I wrote like I was sprinting through a story, making things up as I went. This might work for some writers, but ten-year-old me was not one of them.

   
   

The Second Attempt: A Technological Wasteland of Nonsense

If Mortal Peril was bad, my second attempt at writing was just as bad, only in a different way. This one was about a girl who lived in a futuristic city filled with advanced technology. In my mind, it was a dystopian epic. In reality? It was all vibes, no plot.

Now, let me be clear: this was before Scott Westerfeld’s Uglies came out, but that’s the closest comparison I’m going to get. My story had the same glossy, futuristic aesthetic, but with none of the social commentary or depth that made Uglies so good. It was all surface-level world building, full of dramatic Proper Nouns that meant absolutely nothing.

The main character lived in the West Wing (of what? Who knows). She took the Sliding Stairs (escalators, but fancier, I guess). She had a Digital Bracelet (a smartwatch before smartwatches were cool). Everything sounded high-tech, but there was no logic behind any of it.

Like Mortal Peril, this story had no real conflict. I remember writing entire paragraphs describing the aesthetics of the city—the neon lights, the chrome buildings, the fashion—but I had no idea what the actual plot was. There was a vague hint of rebellion, but against what? Who was in charge? What did the characters want? I had no idea. It was a world of flash without substance, and it taught me an important lesson: aesthetics aren’t enough. A story needs more than a cool setting; it needs characters with real goals, stakes that feel meaningful, and a world that actually functions.

How Fanfiction Saved My Writing

After these two failed novels, I found my way to fanfiction—and honestly? That’s what made me a better writer. Most importantly, fanfiction let me experiment. I wrote AUs, character studies, missing scenes—things that forced me to think about why characters made the choices they did. I got feedback from readers, and for the first time, writing felt like a conversation instead of something I did in a vacuum.

Eventually, all those lessons translated into my original writing. I learned to give my worlds structure, to make my characters flawed, to give my stories something deeper than just a cool setting. And now, years later, I’m writing books that I do want people to read.

Every writer has a terrible first story (or two, or three). The important thing is to keep going. Mortal Peril was nonsense. My futuristic city was nonsense. But they were necessary steps in becoming the writer I am today.

So, if you have an embarrassing first story, embrace it. It’s proof that you’ve grown.

Until next time,

Oregon J. Sinclair