Archive for March, 2012

Who wants to write an essay on water conservation when they can write fiction?

So my mom’s aunt wanted me to enter a water conservation essay contest, and I’m like, why in the world would you write an essay like that for fun? I only do stuff like that because I’m required to.(No offense, but I think that’s crazy! Why would you write about water conservation when you can write fiction?) I mean I know some people love to write non-fiction and essays all day long, but I am not one of those people. Sorry, I know it doesn’t matter if you like non-fiction or fiction, but I really, really do like fiction/fantasy. Speaking of which, I am working on a book/story, which I haven’t figured out a title out for yet. If you have any suggestions(mom and dad excluded)or comments, please respond. Here is the first chapter:

I stared at the dark chestnut door in front of me. I started to lift my hand to the brass lion knocker, then dropped it, embarrassed. Blinking back tears, I turned around and sat down on the nondescript porch steps, burying my head  in my hands. I only remembered bits and pieces of last night, but they were enough to help me understand what had happened. They had tried to kill me. I sighed. This shouldn’t  surprise me. After all, my entire life was full of ill fortune and bad luck. First, my mom had three miscarriages after me. Then, after a poor harvest, our farm had burned down to the ground in a terrible fire that had also killed my father. When we moved to Gristone, we thought our troubles were over, until now. Me, mom, my six year-old sister Uniasus and my two year-old brother Cougar. Weird names, I know. Mine’s Phoenix. Mom said it was a family tradition to name our kids after animals. I had no idea what a uniasus was until my mom explained it was a unicorn and pegasus put together. Cool, right? My mom’s name was Falcon. More tears squeezed out of my eyes. I missed her so much! I hoped she hadn’t been hurt or killed by that mob last night. I could only hope that what ever had taken me to this place had also taken care of my mother, Uni, and Cou. It was a thin hope, I know. But I’m not doing them any good sitting on someone’s porch, I told myself. So, gathering up my courage, I got up, turned around, and marched to the door. Before I could think about what I was doing, like a robot I stiffly lifted the brass knocker and pounded it on the door three times. Nothing happened for a moment. I nervously chewed the inside of my cheek. Then I heard voices and nearing footsteps. Relief swept through me at the same time nervousness made my stomach feel like a rock. What was I going to say? Oh hello, me and my family just got forced out of Gristone by an angry mob and I lost consciousness and woke up in your meadow. So, will you take me in? Yeah, right. But I didn’t have any time to brood on that, for the door just creaked open, reveling a plump, black-haired woman in her forties. She took in my bedraggled hair and dirty dress, my weary atmosphere, my pink cheeks, and the emotions that swept across her face were shock and concern, not disgust like I had expected. ”Oh dear, dear! Oh no!Preston!” she called over her shoulder, like the world was ending. I narrowed my eyes. Did I look that bad? But right then a giant wave of vertigo, tiredness, and hunger swept over me. I stood, swaying on the spot. The women looked back in time to see me throw up what was left of the food in my stomach, than faint, falling on top of her. Ugh. Not again. What was it with me and fainting?

So I know I need to work on it some more, maybe add more details. It’s not the best, but if you could give me some suggestions it would help. Thanks!

Posted on March 20th, 2012 by averydj  |  3 Comments »

The new me

Okay people, I’m back on.  I’m shocked, right? Realizing that all of my former ‘posts’-if you can call them that- are from first or second grade, I decided to make a little update. Like, my name’s Avery, my favorite color’s green, I’m eleven- I know, right? I grow so fast. *sigh*- I’m in fifth grade,- as before, I grow so fast, right?- blah, blah, blah. Now, If anyone besides my parents are reading this, I want you to know that I AM NOT FIVE YEARS OLD! Thank you. So if you reply, which you probably won’t, do NOT say stuff like – ”Oh, baby, you’re growing up so fast! You must be a foot taller than last Christmas!” If you do, I will hunt you down and say something REALLY withering about your last post. It is so degrading. Okay, now that we got that pleasant understanding past us, you probably want to know how school’s going. *Roll eyes*. Well, my school year might have been a little more interesting than others *roll eyes*. As a few of you might know, at the beginning of the school year, my MOTHER – my loving, dear mother- sent me to an awful, awful place. Yes, the charter school. It was a terrible, tiny place – to me at least- with only TWENTY-FIVE kids in each class, with less than three classes in each grade. Most only had one class in each grade. We had to wear dreaded, uncomfortable UNIFORMS, and there was only one time to come and go from school. I had nightmares about it. Most of my valiant protests against this tyranny continued to end with me in tears and mom triumphant. But finally, *sigh of relief* I won over mom with much effort and tears. She called my old beloved Hidden Hollow elementary and I moved back one day later. I found out my teacher was Mr. Crandall- an amazing science whiz, Its hard to believe he is not related to Bill Nye the Science Guy. He even looks a little like him!- And that my next door neighbor and several other old friends were in my class. I fit in again right away. And now I have earned the honer -again- of one of the many class clowns. I love math, science, social studies,-AWESOME!- language arts, and, of course, reading.  Did you know that I have one hundred fifty kids in my fifth grade alone ? That’s more than three grades in the charter school put together. I don’t complain-much- because I love Hidden Hollow, my school since second grade. I recently found out that my great- grandparents, Janet and Lavar Butler (forgive me if I spelled that wrong) know a sixth grade teacher in my school, Mr. Jackson, from their time in England. I think. Anyway, school’s just peachy right now. I can’t wait for tomorrow!

So now, signing off, I hope you liked my first ‘real’ post. Bye for now!

Posted on March 18th, 2012 by averydj  |  2 Comments »