The first time I can remember writing a story, I was in 8th grade at John F. Kennedy Middle School. I don't remember what the prompt was, but I know exactly what story I wrote, 'Wolf Man'. It was about a radioactive wolf who bit a baby, who then grew into something resembling a werewolf. Villagers were terrorized, loving parents were eaten, it was all very morbid.
I still have it (no, you can't read it).
'Wolf Man' either won or placed, and I can't remember which but in the name of revisionist history, let's say I won, a short story competition at the school. This earned myself and a select few others (the ones who placed) a fieldtrip to the Mark Twain Museum in Hartford. It also formed my first kernel of desire to be a writer.
After that, sadly, I didn't do much writing for about ten years. I'd scribble the occasional story, sure, but I never finished, and they were never any good. To be honest, I was focused on other things. I didn't think I had time to write; I was too busy earning a degree, getting married, and growing up.
When I was 23, I thought I'd give it another shot. So I wrote a novel. It took me almost a year and a half, writing off and on, to finish the first (and only) draft. It's called 'The Dragon Herder', it's locked in my desk drawer, and no, you can't read it. Trust me, you don't want to.
I'm working on something else now. It's another novel, and so far, I'm happy with it. Hopefully, someday, this one you can read. No titles yet, but it's an exciting story.
I'll let you know when it's ready.