The first book I ever wrote was in fourth grade and it was called “Billy’s Booger.” It was an autobiographical piece about a kid who was really bad at math. And in my story this kid named Billy was terrible at math and then one day he gets hit in the head by a meteorite and the meteorite gives his boogers super powers. And they’re also very good at math, these super boogers, and so they teach Billy the ways of mathematics. And so in no time he can do, you know, fractions even.
But they also are crime-fighting boogers, so whenever the call is put out that someone is in need, Billy would blow his nose and out would come these super boogers to save the day. But when grownups or teachers came around — because these guys were secret and their secret fortress stronghold was in Billy’s sinuses — Billy would just whoop them back up into his nose where they came from. It was done entirely in green crayon and it was for a contest at my school to see what kid could write and illustrate the best kid’s book. I did not win and in fact I was called into the principal’s office for a consultation with my parents. But that was the beginning of my literary career.
