Seeing something wonderfully done is inspirational. I was fortunate to have parents who were readers. I was given the freedom of the bookshelves and discovered the writing of John OHara. Pearl Buck and Jimmy Jones long before I was old enough to understand the characters and their adult world. Ah, the but the telling was entrancing. Events unfolded and real time meant the time in the book, not the world of school and friends.
As with music, I was captivated by the magic that good writing could employ. It transported, angered, enlightened and confused. It provoked reactions. I wanted that power. Before I learned that people became things, such as doctors, lawyers and writers (adults were, after all, a given. They had never been children.) I wanted to write, to weave those spells.
As I did learn about careers and earning a living and being in this world, that sense never left. I wrote puppet plays and stage plays that my friends and I performed for the adults. I filled notebooks with countless stories that I never showed anyone and others that I insisted people read. While the rest of life was going on, I also wrote.
So the time that I first wanted to be a writer is this time, this long time. The same length of time that I have been a writer--all of my remembered life.