完形填空

　　When I was 10, I announced in English class that I was going to write my own books．“Don’t be stupid．Only 　　1　　 can become writers,” my English teacher 　　2　　 me．“ And you are getting a D this term．”

　　I felt 　　3　　 and almost burst into tears．That night I wrote a sad poem about 　　4　　 dreams and mailed it to a newspaper．To my surprise, they 　　5　　 it and sent me two dollars．I was a 　　6　　 writer! I showed it to my teacher and fellow students．“ Just a dumb luck,” the teacher said．I’d tasted success and that was fine with me, 　　7　　 it was just “luck”．I continued, never 　　8　　 my writing to my teachers or friends again．They were dream 　　9　　．By the time I graduated from high school, I had scrapbooks(剪贴簿)　　10　　 with my published works．

　　But sometimes you do need a friend who 　　11　　 your dreams．I began to write a book, Crying Wind, 　　12　　 by a friend, who said “Anyone can write a book if they want to．” It took nine months．I chose a publisher and mailed 　　13　　 without making a 　　14　　 of the manuscript(底稿)．A month later I received a contract and a letter 　　15　　 me to start working on another book．Crying Wind became a bestseller and also became 　　16　　 reading in Native American schools in Canada．People ask what college I attended, what 　　17　　 I have, and what qualifications I have to be a writer．The answer is 　　18　　．I’m not a genius and I am not gifted, but I’ve finally 　　19　　 the weakness．Writing is easy, and it’s fun．Anyone can do it．Of course, a little dumb 　　20　　 doesn’t hurt．