I am a GENIUS! . . . Wait . . . No, I'm not.

Years ago, I went through what some would call a "phase." Others would call it an obsession. Whatever you'd choose to call it, I was an obscenely huge fan of The Scarlet Pimpernel. Tangent: For those that don't know the story, let me enlighten you. The Scarlet Pimpernel is one of the very first super heroes. An aristocrat who disguises whimself to save innocents from the guillotine during the French Revolution. He acts like a fop at home in England to throw people off his scent. OK, end of tangent. The books (which kick-ass, by the way), the movies (which don't, really. OK, except for the 1932 Leslie Howard one. That's not too bad.), and the musical (which was nominated for two Tony awards). I even flew to New York, with my dear friend Kathy, to see the musical on Broadway. My geekness extends far beyond that, but my dignity won't stand the telling anymore.

My point is that I wrote some stories set in the Pimpernel universe. What's known as fanfiction, or fanfic, for you normal people out there. At the time, they seemed to be brilliant! They could stand up next to any other stories out there! In my head, I was up there with Arthur Conan Doyle, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Baroness Orczy herself! (She wrote The Scarlet Pimpernel and the many sequels that came after.)

I posted all of them to my juvenile website. (No, I will NOT tell you what the address is!) Recently, in a lull at my fantastic new job, I went back to read them again.

Wow.

I won't say they suck. But, damn, they're not NEARLY as OK as I remember! Apparently, the gap of . . . seven years has distorted my writing prowess hugely.

Now, I will say that I know I've improved. There are a few other stories that I wrote a couple of years after the whole Pimpernel thing. I went back to read them too, hoping to God that the same fate hadn't befallen them. (They're on at least one website that's MUCH more frequently visited than my poor excuse.) I am glad to say that they're actually BETTER than I remember them being. Woo hoo!

So, there it is. Proof that we're not perfect when we're teenagers. Believe me, I know I'm not perfect now, either, but at least I'm improving.