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When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going to write and illustrate my own ...
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When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going to write and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered. The rest nearly fell out of their chairs laughing. “Don’t be silly, only geniuses can become writers,” the English teacher said, “And you are getting a D this term.” I was so humiliated(羞辱) that I burst into tears.
That night I wrote a short sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it to the Capri’s Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment, they published it and sent me two dollars. I was a published and paid writer. I showed it to my teacher and fellow students. They laughed. “Just plain dumb luck,” the teacher said. I tasted success. I’d sold the first thing I’d ever written. That was more than any of them had done and if it was just dumb luck, that was fine with me.
During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes and recipes. By the time I graduated from high school, with a C minus average, I had scrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to my teachers, friends or my family again. They were dream killers and if people must choose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose their dreams.
I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only four. While the children slept, I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It took nine months, just like a baby.
A month later Crying Wind, the title of my book, became a best seller, was translated into fifteen languages and Braille and sold worldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours. My first book also became required reading in native American schools in Canada.
People ask what college I attended, what degrees I had and what qualifications I have to be a writer. The answer is: “None.” I just write. I’m not a genius. I’m not gifted and I don’t write right. To all those who dream of writing, I’m shouting at you: “Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Don’t listen to them.” I don’t write right but I’ve beaten the odds. Writing is easy, it’s fun and anyone can do it. Of course, a little dumb luck doesn’t hurt.
1.Why did many students laugh after hearing what the writer said?
A. Because they didn’t like him
B. Because they wished he could be successful as a writer
C. Because their teacher laughed, too
D. Because they felt it impossible for him to succeed
2.When the writer graduated from high school, ___________.
A. he had become a famous writer
B. he had made progress in his studies
C. his classmates and teachers changed their attitudes towards him
D. he decided he wouldn’t become a writer
3.What stopped him telling others about his writing?
A. The characters in his story. B. His teacher.
C. His early experience. D. His parents.
4.What can we infer from the passage?
A. It is difficult for a person, who cares about what others say, to succeed.
B. It is important for a person to tell others what he wants to do.
C. It is necessary for a person, who wants to succeed, to take others’ advice.
D. It is impossible for an ordinary person to be a writer in the future.
5.Which of the following is the best title?
A. A famous writer B. I Hate My Classmates and Teachers
C. I Never Write Right D. A Genius Can Be a Writer
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