When I was 15, I said to my class that I was going to write my own books. All the students nearly fell out of their chairs,1me. "Don't be silly. Only geniuses（天才）can become writers. And you are getting a D this term." I was deeply2and I couldn't help crying.
That night I wrote a short, sad poem about my3dreams and mailed it to theWeekly
Newspaper. To my surprise, they published（发表）it, and sent me two dollars. I was a paid writer!
I4it to my classmates. They laughed again. "Just luck." they said. However, I had tasted success. Because my first poem5published.
By the time I graduated from high school, I had collected all my published works together. But I6talked about my writing to my classmates again. They were7killers. And people must always keep on their own dreams by8. Later, I wrote a book about9I understood and felt about my life. It10me nine months to finish it. I chose a publisher（出版商） and mailed my book. I wrote a note11it, "I wrote this book myself. I hope you will like it. Thank you."
A month later,12I received a letter, with an invitation for publishing the book. It became a bestseller（畅销书）, and13into 15 languages. People ask what college I attended and what degrees（学位）I have got. The answer is none. I just write. I'm not a genius, and I'm not talented. I just write. To all those who dream of14, I should say to you, "Yes, you 15be writers! Always keep writing!"
