Miss P. was a rare sort of scholar indeed to be found at the 9th grade level.
> ... wrote when it was closer to the present and more fresh in my mind.
The thought came to me -- being now at an age a few years greater than yours -- that my own collection of memories on similar events has been fading, and those from youth of course being irreplaceable.
Solution: Write them down, only those I'd want to savor again in years ahead. In the form of notes, at least. The act of writing slowly -- over the course of nearly a year now -- puts a light on others in the dusty attic.
Next step is to work up the more amusing and less private of them into anecdotes, for sharing with trusted friends.
Everything2 is an interesting (to me) entry in the Web 2.0 landscape and early crowdsourcing. The original implementation of it was in '98 - and its still around. It doesn't quite have the same rate of growth of content as it did back when I was writing - but its still there. Some of the people on there later went on to become professional writers.
> According to E2's "Site Trajectory", traffic has dropped from 9976 new write-ups created in the month of August 2000, down to 93 new write-ups in February 2017.
(It looks like its down to a small core of people)
The key is to record it somewhere. Be it Storycorps ( https://www.npr.org/series/4516989/storycorps ) or a second brain ( https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=29188418 ). Spin up a Wordpress blog and write there (aside, one of my projects is digging through the files from a hard drive of a laptop a bit ago where I wrote using Apple's blogging / web hosting software.
Writing without care of who (if anyone) reads it - for the sheer sake of writing - feels like a dying art form at times.
> ... wrote when it was closer to the present and more fresh in my mind.
The thought came to me -- being now at an age a few years greater than yours -- that my own collection of memories on similar events has been fading, and those from youth of course being irreplaceable.
Solution: Write them down, only those I'd want to savor again in years ahead. In the form of notes, at least. The act of writing slowly -- over the course of nearly a year now -- puts a light on others in the dusty attic.
Next step is to work up the more amusing and less private of them into anecdotes, for sharing with trusted friends.