When I was around nine years old, I became absolutely enthralled with the idea of making magazines. Part of it was the joy of writing and drawing and making something complete, something tangible, but the other part of it was making a little cash on the side. I remember calculating the numbers, taking into account the postage, the cost of printing that my mom said she'd charge, figuring out how many issues I could really fit into my pseudo-busy prepubescent life. My first venture was called Kid's World (apostrophe drawn in afterward). It featured huge type, a crossword puzzle with only five clues, my own poetry, and interviews of my parents. After two issues it plummeted. Same with BiNGO, churned out from a typewriter: two issues and kaput. My last try was called fido magazine, and made it to the third issue before kicking the bucket, but I was much more satisfied with how it was looking – a variety of type sizes, colors, and styles; use of borders, backgrounds, clip art; in addition to jokes and interviews, there were (very) short stories and philosophical digressions written by yours truly.
A little excerpt, mistakes and all, to get a taste of just how convincing a writer I was (wink) – this is from one of the earlier issues.
"To all people that cook good meals and other members don't like it, here is some friendly advidce. Children have their privalges and like certain things. Don't force them to eat anything or just serve them a part of the meal separate. Grownups usually just don't prefer salt, sause or a small ingredient in the meal. So if you like something else, put separate onto the table for you or others, otherwise, they are just plain picky people."
