Am I human or am I writer?

i've been writing since i was a little kid. it all started in 4th, maybe 5th grade. my teacher gave us all "Writer's Workshop" notebooks so we could write stories in them. i became addicted. while my classmates were writing two page stories about how one day they went to the store and bought some candy, i was writing 20 page stories about time machines and monsters and aliens.

my first real story was called "Dracula" (followed by four sequels...) and i remember getting up to recite my story in front of the class. after reciting it (and taking fifteen minutes to do so) one of my classmates (who i probably had a crush on) said "you've GOT to give me a copy of that!" and ever since, i've felt as though i'm a good author.

every year my writing gets better. my words seem to have more depth each time i sit down at the computer to write. after those lousy "Dracula" stories, i begged my mom to buy me more notebooks. i filled them. i literally filled each one with my words. i never stopped writing and i forced my friends to read my stories.

i went through my phases. there was the dramatic story phase where i had to write about a man whose wife was dying of some unknown disease. that was in 5th grade. then i went through the horror phase where i wrote about creepy little girls like Samara from The Ring who were coming to get you. that was in 6th grade. and of course, my romance phase came creeping around where i started thinking of any cheesy lovey dovey story i could think of and putting it on paper. that lasted from 7th-9th grade.

and now, in 11th grade, i don't know what phase i'm in. i guess you could call it the...mystery/scifi/romance/thriller phase. i guess i create a genre of my own. the Katie genre. i suppose there's no accurate way of describing it unless you read my writing for yourself. and throughout my phases, i started noticing that my writing was improving. in 7th grade, as i reread those horrid "Dracula" stories, i laughed at the absurdity of my 4th grade mind. and then again in 9th grade i laughed at my absurd 7th grade mind. and now that i reread a story that i wrote in the 9th grade, i laugh. i wrote a story last year, starting in November of 2008. a couple of months ago, as i was rereading it, i noticed how terrible it was. although the plot was fantastic, the writing sucked. so i am once again rewriting it. it is titled "Eleven" and i might keep writing it, but i might just decide to stop and start something new. i'll let you know.