In high school, I had an inspirational English teacher named Mrs. Reisman (I may be mispelling her name). In her class I learned to love writing poetry. I wrote tons of poetry over the next five or six years-- most of it pretty bad. I wrote a few stories, but nothing that I really remember.
One of the highlights of Mrs. Reisman's class was putting together a Student Arts Magazine, which was a big deal back in the 70s, because print on demand hadn't been invented yet, and even copy machines were relatively rare at school (although they were firmly entrenched in the business world). We had to use mimeograph machines-- the ones that smelled really good.
I graduated High School in 78 and tried a couple of semesters at UNLV before dropping out. I really didn't know what I wanted out of life yet.