My First Desk

I can't be sure how old I was when I got my first desk. It was the early 80's and I was probably somewhere in the neighborhood of ten years old. I remember being with my father in a stuffy attic in some big warehouse; sunbeams became pillars of swirling dust. He picked through a large pile of metal and wood desks, choosing different models and sizes for my siblings and I.

Being the oldest I received the biggest desk. It had a tan painted steel body with a swinging hard wood top and seat. Take my word for it they don't make em' like they used to.
I used it for painting models, surgery on G.I.Joe fatalities and my first work at actual fiction written for my own satisfaction.

I generally wrote terrible fan-fiction (as all fan-fiction generally is) either G.I. Joe and or Transformers, or even my own brand of Indiana Jones rip-offs,
BUT...

I did work at things that were embers of my own original voice too. I had thoughts on my own Tolkien inspired epic fantasy that would have a nation of werewolves within it~that were the good guys! Haughty kings and naive if not noble princes, world striding conquerors who wrestled with fate and defied the gods, tragic death and glorious triumph.

These things came to me when I was a child and I wrote them at my first desk.

My eldest son (7) is now writing his own books. I went and took the desk out of storage at my parents house and brought it home. My brother used it for a time too, so it has more paint than when I left it behind. It was the last of all those desks my parents bought for us from some nameless warehouse in Billings, Montana.
I dusted it off and put it in my sons room. I told him how I used it and what it helped me start doing. I think his fan fiction is better than mine.

And I may as well share the desk where I have written all of my pro sales.