Show Me the Bunny

You know how when you were a kid, having a favorite animal was a Really Big Deal? And every time you'd be at a carnival or a gift shop or Carlton Cards at the mall, you'd pester your mom into letting you buy a miniature version of that animal? And you'd keep the entire collection on your bedroom wall in a wooden curio shelf shaped like a house? Well, for me that animal was the rabbit.

For full effect, imagine this filled with tiny, tacky bunnies.

So obviously, when we had to write an animal report in third grade, I chose to research rabbits. I enigmatically titled the report "Rabbits: Breeds of Rabbits and other things about them."

The report's cover rabbit. Note: Those are paws, not a pair of saggy bunny boobs.

This report was chock full of information. Did you know that rabbits aren't rodents, because rodents have two pairs of front teeth whereas rabbits have only one? Or that rabbits differ from hares because rabbits give birth to ugly, hairless little creatures with closed eyes while hares have attractive, furry newborns that can see?

On the other hand, I may have included a bit TOO MUCH information. One of the "other things" I felt it necessary to (over)share about rabbits? If they eat too many greens they will get diarrhea. Seriously. This report has the word diarrhea in it.

A large part of the reason for my bunny love was that my sister and I were the proud owners of our own big-toothed boxes of hair. Realistically, owning rabbits should have made us despise them. Our rabbits (unconventionally named Bun-bun and Cottontail) seemed to fear for their lives whenever we got within 10 feet of them and would use any means necessary to avoid human contact. This made the normal things you do with a pet—like, I don't know, petting them—exceedingly difficult.

Me in a dress straight outta Oleson's Mercantile, Cottontail (that damn Bun-bun was next to impossible to catch!), and my sister.

Because this report was about breeds of rabbit (and other things about them), I note that Cottontail is "probably Dutch." As you can tell, it was an extremely scientific report. It also has illustrations on the right way to hold a rabbit...

You can see I was used to rabbits expressing abject terror when handled.

...and the wrong way to hold a rabbit (which I noted as my preferred method—whatever, "professionals"):

"Most books don't say to hold them this way, but I do anyway."

Then I compare the Angora and Dutch rabbit breeds. Third-grade conclusion? Angoras and Dutches are very different. (If you were wondering, I got an A+ on this project. 32-year-old conclusion: I could make a KILLING ghostwriting reports for third graders.)

Here's the Angora:

And here's the Dutch:

But what does all of this rabbitry have to do with my burgeoning writing career? Well, learning about the different rabbit breeds inspired me to draft a book about animals. Anthropomorphic animals. Very fashionable, hip, and emotional anthropomorphic animals. Chapter 1? BUNNIES. (And don't get your hopes up—there is no Chapter 2.)

First stop on our Tour de Rabbit Breeds is the cottontail. Cottontail was not just the name of our pet rabbit, it's also a breed! Kind of like how Cy Sperling's not just the president of the Hair Club for Men, he's also a client. For comparative purposes, here's a photo of a real-life cottontail rabbit:

Image found here.

And here's my version, Cool Carrie Cottontail:

Because even when I drew a friggin' rabbit, it ended up looking like a prostitute.

You can see that the actual, factual cottontail rabbit has neither a pig snout, false eyelashes, nor fishnet stockings. Hell, it doesn't even have high heels or little ribbons on its ears! However, the jury's still out on its ability to duplicate choreography from Saturday Night Fever.

Next we have my version of the Dutch rabbit:

Image found here.

Dancing Denise Dutch (oh, the alliteration!) looks less like a sex worker and more like a reject from Breakin' 2: Bunny Bugaloo:

"Out of my way, fools! There are rec centers to be saved! With BREAK DANCING!"

Is it just her markings, or is Denise wearing some sort of facial sling? Maybe her jaw was breakin' also (zing!). But I stick by my theory that she has on fingerless gloves and fashionably holey tights. And maybe a prison-issued muumuu?

But my favorite here is the Angora. Which, once again, in actuality looks like this:

Image found here.

Mine, on the other hand? That'd be Angry Amy Angora:

Yeah, Amy (once again with a pig nose; though I owned a rabbit, I seem to have had no idea what their little sniffers looked like) is pouting huffily in a chair. Meanwhile, she has scrawled "I HATE YOU! Sincerely, Amy" on the ground. Man! I wonder what Passive-Aggressive Paula Patagonian would have looked like...

NEXT TIME: Why I never drew boys.

Before I end this, I'd like to give a big thank you to everyone who has been following 30 is the new 13 in spite of my spotty updating. Chronic arm pain and blogging don't really mix, but what can I say? I'm a rebel. A very sore-armed rebel. Also, I know about 800 of you (or maybe five?) are waiting to be guest authors, and I want you to know I haven't forgotten you! I'm planning to have some guest author posts up soon—although, considering my recent record, "soon" may be a subjective term. I'll do my best!

New Year's Resolutions

These are my New Year's resolutions from fifth grade. You may be unsurprised to learn that I no longer make New Year's resolutions.

1/11/89

New Year's Resolutions:

#1: To move into the Scarborough house.
#2: To spend more time with Baby, my guinea pig.
#3: To tame Bun-bun, my rabbit.
#4: To get a real baby-sitting job.
#5: To pass my ice-skating class.
#6: To finish my 3 stories I started.
#7: To put on the "Really Rosie" play.
#8: To take the baby-sitting class.
#9: To make improvements with the "school in the basement"
#10: To redecorate my room.

P.S. I'LL TELL YOU ABOUT "REALLY ROSIE" TOMORROW. IT'S FUN!!!

Did I effectively, uh, resolve these? Let's take it resolution by resolution and find out.

#1: To move into the Scarborough house.

My sister and I desperately wanted to move so that we could attend the same middle school as the majority of our friends. The amazing part is that our parents went for it! I particularly wanted to move into the Scarborough house because it meant I would be living just down the street from the love of my elementary school life, Sig. The hitch was that the current owners of the house were recluses and maybe even certifiably insane. However, after months upon months of negotiations (seriously, it took well over six months), we did end up getting the house.

Resolution #1: ACHIEVED! With minimal effort on my part.

#2: To spend more time with Baby, my guinea pig.

Would you care to hear a bit about Baby? I can neither confirm nor deny whether she was named after Jennifer Grey's character in Dirty Dancing. Little did we know, she was pregnant when we brought her home from the pet store—so maybe her name should have been Penny. She ended up having a three-pig litter, and we kept two of her babies, Peachy and Rosie (who was definitely named after Really Rosie; see Resolution #7).

Have you ever seen baby guinea pigs? Unlike baby rabbits, which look like squirmy hairless rats (and which we had more than our fair share of—it turned out we did NOT have two female rabbits after all), baby guinea pigs are amazingly cute! And they lived in my room! So I could play with them whenever I wanted! Well, at first I could. About a week after the babies were born, someone had to stick her big nose in.

9*28*88
MOM

My Mom Is Stupid!

She has resumed full responsibility of the babies. Of course it's "not to make us mad" but she has.

We cannot pick them up without her supervising. "We aren't responsible" she says.

UGH!

She was even going to take my guinea pig (+ babies, of course) out of my room.

SHE MAKES ME SICK!

Hi, mom! There are loads of entries about the baby guinea pigs (two of them suffered through an allergen-induced bout of baldness at one point, and there was serious sibling rivalry between Rosie and Peachy), but there's also this:

11-29-88
Allergies

I am allergic to dogs, cats, mayonaise, penicillan, raw eggs, and
GUINEA PIGS!

[Please note: That list is WAY longer now. And no, avoiding raw eggs hasn't really been a problem.]

You can see that I made the New Year's resolution after this shocking allergy revelation, but seriously? How much time can you spend with something that gives you hives? It's too bad, because Baby was definitely the sweetest of all of our many pets. Although I realize that's not saying much.

Resolution #2: Achoo! Er, nope.

#3: To tame Bun-bun, my rabbit.

Guess what else I'm allergic to? That's right, rabbits. But we didn't know that because our rabbits rarely let us come within five feet of them. Those creatures outright loathed us.

I'm reverting to fourth grade to bring you this gem of a journal entry about Bun-bun:

1-25-88

I have a pet rabbit named Bun-bun. Sometimes she is sweet as honey and other times she's mad as a wet hen. [I'd say it was much more frequently the latter.] Bun-bun has been through a lot with her daughter, Runt, who was killed by a dog last year. I know that Bun-bun misses her, probably.

See, it wasn't that Bun-bun was pure evil, it's just that she was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Bun-bun is very special to me. She almost died with Runt because they were in the same cage. Bun-bun was found next door. I was so glad that Bun-bun was still alive! Once my sister said that her rabbit was her life. [!!!] I don't know if Bun-bun is that much to me or not.

Usually when a friend comes over we go in the basement to see the bunnies. We talk to Bun-bun, try to pet her [emphasis on the "try"], give her food, and try to get her out of her cage. Sometimes I get mad at her because she knocks a bowl over. Sometimes I laugh because she acts silly. Bun-bun is important to me.

And here's a quick description of our rabbits from the fifth grade journal:

Bun [drawing of rabbit head] Bun: is my rabbit. She's boring. She doesn't let me hold her or pet her. But I won't give her up!

Cottontail [the o's are drawn as fuzzy bunny tails]: is Genie's bunny. He is like Bun-Bun, except sometimes you can pick him up. Though, he doesn't like it.

The fact that I felt I needed to "tame" a domesticated rabbit should speak volumes. Before we moved, we gave the bunnies to some friends of the family who lived in rural Ohio. Apparently Bun-bun was not my life, and I could give her up after all.

Resolution #3: Failed miserably.

#4: To get a real baby-sitting job.

I was 11, and my name is neither Mallory Pike nor Jessi Ramsey.

Resolution #4: Not this year! Thanks for nothing, Ann M. Martin.

#5: To pass my ice-skating class.

According to my journal, I did pass, but I should have flunked. I also hated my ice-skating teacher, Sue, and my woeful inability to execute a "mohawk."

Those creepy kite/stick people are achieving what I never could. And it looks like they're doing it on a tightrope! Show-offs.

Resolution #5: Technically achieved. Way to go! Though I'm pretty sure I did not pass the next class thanks to those accursed mohawks.

#6: To finish my 3 stories I started.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Hahahahahaha. Ha ha. Haaaaaaa.

Resolution #6: No way in hell.

#7: To put on the "Really Rosie" play.

I don't know if you've seen Really Rosie, but it is a musical revolving around a 10-year-old animated Brooklynite with an overactive imagination, a very high opinion of herself (sample lyric: "I can tap across the the Tappan Zee / Hey, can't you see? / I'm terrific at everything!"), and the voice of Carole King. In other words, TOTALLY AWESOME.

1/12/89
Really Rosie

"Really Rosie" is actually a movie. My mom rented it [...if by "rented" you mean "borrowed from the library"]. Maurice Sendak made it. The characters are: Rosie, Johnny, Alligator, Pierre, Chicken Soup, and a girl (we) named Jennifer. We wrote [ahem, transcribed] a script and the songs. It is going to be a play. The school in the basement's students [aka my four-year-old brother and his friends] can put it on for their parents.

THE CAST:
Rosie – Sada
Jennifer – Genie
Pierre – Josh
Johnny – Will
Alligator – Luke
Chicken Soup – "Molly" ("Molly" is a doll!)

Molly was a very large doll with a very unfortunate haircut given to her by her previous owners. My dad rescued her at a garage sale.

I was the director and I also gave myself the juiciest role. Josh, as Pierre, had only one line, repeated over and over: "I don't care."

THE SONGS:
#1: Really Rosie
#2: One Was Johnny
#3: Alligators All Around
#4: Pierre
#5: Such An Ordinary Day
#6: Chicken Soup With Rice

– Really Sada

Yes, it "really" says that. Little did I know, HarperTrophy had published a book version of Really Rosie, which would have been very, very handy to have back in 1989. For instance, turns out Jennifer's name is actually Kathy! Who knew?


We definitely slaved away in rehearsals, but our cast of four- and five-year-olds were not really committed to the full-scale production. Molly was a trooper, though.

I just asked my brother if he could remember whether we ever performed this (he could not), and this is what he had to say about Really Rosie: "Yeah, I didn't like that."

Resolution #7: Not even under duress.

#8: To take the baby-sitting class.

The baby-sitting class was offered by the Red Cross, and I believed it would help me to attain Resolution #4. My friend Jessica and I took this class together, and although I didn't snag a proper baby-sitting job for several more years, the baby-saving lessons did help spark a subplot in my (forthcoming) book Quintuple Trouble.

Resolution #8: Achieved with unexpectedly awesome side effects!

#9: To make improvements with the "school in the basement"

My sister and I were really into forcing my brother and his friends to be "students" in the fake school we held in our dungeon basement. Unfortunately, we lost most of our students after our move.

Resolution #9: Vastly unimproved.

#10: To redecorate my room.

Well, I moved in April of 1989, so I acquired an entirely new room! How's that for redecorating?

Resolution #10: Achieved and then some!

Well, what do you guys think? Four out of ten ain't bad. In fact, I think that might be a Meatloaf song. And at least I got to redecorate my room.

NEXT TIME: The guest authors are back! The first installment in Deathycat's Dear Sister trilogy features murder, sibling rivalry, and even more murder.

Happy New Year, everyone! Thanks so much for reading my little blog this year! I resolve to bring you even more embarrassment in '09.

Guest authors: On crafty horses and smelly brothers

As promised, more guest authors! First up is obie119, whose all-consuming horse obsession led her to turn a school assignment about Valentine's Day into horse-tastic historical fiction about a pair of globe-trotting animals.

Says obie119: This story of mine from second grade is very, very odd. And yes, I did indeed write “copyright Feb 1984” at the top. I was obsessed with horses so the subject of the story is not a surprise. In fact, 1984 was the year that my art teacher declared a moratorium on my drawing/painting/sculpting horses (no joke!). I will note that after the word “tornado,” I drew a little tornado right on the page. Allendale is where I grew up. I am assuming that our assignment was to write a story about Valentine’s Day.

Copyright Feb 1984 / My Valentine Horse / Creative Writing

My Valentine Horse's name was Hardy. And he always ate Valentine's Day candy. You know, I didn't own him. It's like this. In 1817, a man named Mr. Mean owned him except his name was It. And Mr. Mean lived in England.

Anyway, a jaguar named Jaggy was in a circus. He was trained, but he hated the climate. But a year later, in 1818, something happened. A small tornado came onto the circus, but Jaggy got away. Now Hardy made a can that could float. So Jaggy and Hardy went to South America. Jaggy held a sign that said: From Allendale, New Jersey. So they went to New Jersey. There were 18 storms! At Allendale, they found Jaggy's owner, and she liked Hardy. That was February 14, 1823, and with all the loving, it was Valentine's Day. The End.

I kind of feel like I need the CliffsNotes version of this! Let's attempt to review, shall we? It's like this: In 1817, Hardy, a horse with a penchant for Valentine's Day candy, is residing in England with Mr. Mean, but as Mr. Mean refers to him as "It" (MEAN!), that's clearly a crap living situation. So Hardy (somehow) hooks up with a rain-hating, circus-performing jaguar who—in the midst of the great tornado of 1818!—is able to escape from the circus.

Luckily for Jaggy, Hardy is like the Thomas fucking Jefferson of horses and invents a "floating can" in which the two set sail from Britain to South America. But Jaggy is so goddamn picky (what, he doesn't like the climate in South America either?), he will be satisfied with no location short of Allendale, NJ.

Getting there, however, takes five years—I'm assuming in part because of the 18 storms they encounter along the way. How exactly do they travel from South America to the Jerse, though? Jaggy's sign evokes visions of hitchhiking, but was it even possible to hitchhike in 1818? On a wagon? If you're a HORSE? I'm guessing that wouldn't really fly with the settlers, so maybe they walk (which would certainly explain the five-year timeline) or even bust out the ol' floating can again. Can you imagine being stuck out at sea in a can with a jaguar for five years, eating nothing but conversation hearts? Harrowing!

In any case, they eventually arrive in Allendale on February 14, 1823, and promptly find Jaggy's long-lost owner, and everyone is so freaking psyched that President Monroe (yeah, I just looked that up) has no choice but to create a national holiday of luuuuuv. (And candy, 'cause Hardy likes that shit.)

At some point Hardy comes to be owned by obie119 in 1984. That part I'm not so sure about unless Hardy is immortal. Which would be awesome!

Next up is BadKat, who has sent us an array of elementary school goodies. First, some school writing assignments from third grade:

About Me

I have blond hair and green eyes. My favorite friend is Rachael and Jennifer. I like Ryan C. to. We ride our bikes together to the park some times. I have one sister, Alea. We are good sisters. I have two brothers, Jett and Bradley. They are O.K. I have one dad, Tom one mom, Rachel one step-mom, Brenna. I'm 8½.

(Teacher's comment: Write more about you)

What Makes Me happy

Our class created a Chienese play called "The Shirt of Happyness"!! I learned that you don't have to have a shirt to be happy. The play was fun, exciteing to!

(Teacher's comment: I'd liked to have read more about this!)

I don't know about you guys, but I'd be pretty bummed if I didn't have a shirt. I'd also be cold.

I am a cigarette

When you smoke me you can get very bad breth. I am made with nicotene and tar. Tar can hurt your lungs and nicotine speeds up the heart and that is not good for you! I can cause tooth decay and when you start smoking me you just cant stop. I am very bad for you health.

(Teacher's comment: Very good! You made some great statements!)

Wow, I really feet like I AM that cigarette. Stay away! When you start smoking me—much like when you pop the top off a can of Pringles—YOU JUST CAN'T STOP! And I'll give you bad breth! BE FOREWARNED!

We also have some of BadKat's school journal entries from fourth grade.

Says BadKat: My creative writing booklet from the fourth grade contained daily journal entries where I was forced to record my thoughts or short creative stories. From March until June of 1992, I chose to bitch about the weather every day. I even have a barometer scale scribbled on the inside of the back cover. Because then, like now, I was obsessed with the weather. I have always enjoyed observing the weather and then bitching and complaining about said weather, while living in one of the most meteorologically volatile states in the country [that'd be Minnesota]. You can also tell how impatient I am and how I wished I could be doing anything but writing in this damn booklet.

March 30, 1992: The weather is sunny. I'm excited that the weather is sunny and I'm going to my uncle's house to dinner. I'm going bye myself and with my sister and not my brothers. My brothers smell bad.

I'll bet that's why they weren't invited to dinner.

March 31, 1992: The weather is partly sunny. The high and low are '35 and '20. I'm not happy it is Tuesday and I'm in school. I'm happy I do not have girl scouts becuase me and Rachael hate Heather.

April 2, 1992: The weather is sunny and warm. I'm happy the rollar skateing party is tonight. The birds, like Robbens, are coming back.

Remember how great roller-skating parties were? We used to go to United Skates of America, which had maybe the best roller-rink name ever!

April 3 1992: The weather is sunny and warm. I'm sad that my step-mom cut her thumb with my dad's razor blade (it was a utility knife) and I'm happy that the carnival is tonight.

April 7, 1992: The weather is couldy and mild I'm happy we are doing the book badge in girl scouts tonight. ("me and Rachael" must have made up with Heather by this point)

April 21, 1992: It is cloudy and rainey. I'm releved that my glass were fond because, I didn't zip my bag up at home and my glasses fell out and someone fond them for me! I'm happy that my sister is going to kindergarden conection tonight and grandma is comeing.

After this entry, my 4^th grade teacher, Mrs. Bitchface, wrote to "watch my sentences - add more detail - watch the writing." So the attempts to increase material begin:

April 23, 1992: The weaher is rainy and cold. I'm happy that it is Thursday and that tomorrow is the end of the week.

9:55am (only entry that is marked with a time): wemen wear komotos for spicel accations. Keiko lives in a huge house with a huge garden and the schools in Japan are very different then ours. (huh?)

April 24, 1992: I glad that today is Friday and it is almost saturday and I get to sleep in tomorrow. Keiko is very fun! (again, huh?)

April 27, 1992: The weather is sunny and warm. I'm happy that my Grandama is bringing me some new Christopher Pike books tomorrow. I liked fall in to darkness but Mrs. Ringlien says we can't read those books for quiet read time or for a book report. Emelia said that her mom would call our school.

BadKat, I love that your grandma bought you Christopher Pike. But look out, because it sounds like Emelia's mom wants to have a Christopher Pike book bonfire!

April 29, 1992: The weather is partly sunny and warm and I'm happy that it will be so nice today. We are beaginning about Japan (well that explains the Japan crap). Both men and wemen in Japan ware kimono and I hope my step-mom likes her birthday present.

May 6, 1992: It's cloudy and warm I'm happy that I don't have reading, or math, or anything today and that we go to the zoo. I'm happy that it is Twins Day (the baseball team) tommorrow and that we get to have a parad.

May 12, 1992: The weather is sunny and warm. If you went to Japan you would see mountony land and be spending time outdoors. I'm happy today is grandparents day. Rachael and I think that we want to read the Matchlock Gun for our book reports.

May 14, 1992: I'm in truble and I hope that my mom will let me go camping and I hope that the camping trip is not put off. I hope I don't get stuck with a coupl of people on the trip. (I wonder who I was avoiding at the Girl Scout Camp Out? And what, no weather today?)

Oooooooooooh, BadKat's in troooooooouble. Hope she didn't get stuck with Heather on the camping trip. Hate her!

May 18, 1992: The weather is sunny and warm. I'm going to tryouts for the disric cyor. I hope I get in to cyhor. Part one of the tryouts is today and part two of the tryouts are tomorrow. My aunt told me my voice was beutiful and that it made her cry.

I love the creative spelling of choir. LOVE it!

May 22, 1992: The weather is cloudy and very humed. I'm happy that there is only one week and a half of school left. I'm happy that I get to go up to the cabin in Grad Rapeds (Grand Rapids) for this weekend. Rachael and I like to play with my dog, Teako. Did you hear the Mount Pleasant fre departmant's siren? (I live nowhere near Mt. Pleasant).

May 29, 1992: It is sunny and pretty warm. I'm going to the beautician and I wish she would set my hair (this is not true because my mom was a cosmetologist. So, what? And setting my hair? WHAT?). I hope that every one this summer will Pledge Alleagiance on Saturday July 4, 1992. Rachael and I took Gary's apple and then hidden it in the tire swing. "Where did you put that apple, asked Gary. He was mad and he is going to put our rain coats under Rona's front pottch.

Stealing Gary's apple? You girls were OUT OF CONTROL! I'm taking away your Christopher Pike books!!! Actually, this might be my favorite entry because of the seemingly unrelated topics of BadKat's desire for old-lady hair; her earnest patriotism; and the wholesome pranks involving a tire swing and raincoats.

June 1, 1992: I'm happy it's warm and almost summer vacation. We set our books on Wes's desk and he siad it was all right. In July, Rachael is moving to Summer Green road. That is closer to me and makes me happy. Yesterday Teako, my dog, ran relly quickly after my cat Jezebel and she quickly climbed a tree. My dad got her down with his ladder but it took a long time. Clair, my other cat does not run away from Teako and once she scrached her on the nose.

June 3, 1992: It is very hot. I'm happy that we got our pass for the pool and that it is the last day of school. I'm not going to miss my teachers and I'm not sort of sad. I hope I get Mr. T. next year. Me and Rachael go to camp in 3 weeks! I am very happy and I wish this year she would do the Polar Bear swimming with me!

"I'm not going to miss my teachers and I'm not sort of sad" is hilarious. Way to stick it to Mrs. Bitchface!

That's it for this round of guest writing, but if you're soooooooooooo, etc., jealous and have some cringe-worthy works of your own that you'd like to share, for God's sake, e-mail me!: 30isthenew13@gmail.com.

NEXT TIME: A discussion of one of the key components of elementary school social life: the club.

Runaways, dogs, and crippled children—oh my!

That's right, it's book report time! As I've said before, I devoured books as a child. This is just a sampling of what I had on my plate in fourth grade.

Book Report #1
The assignment: A picture and a paragraph about my favorite character
Title: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
Author: E. L. Konigsburg
Type: Newbery Award

I think someday I'd like to have lunch with the Newbery Committee or something. I seriously still love this book:




For the insane few of you who have never read it, here's the back cover spiel:

When Claudia decided to run away, she planned very carefully. She would be gone just long enough to teach her parents a lesson in Claudia appreciation. And she would live in comfort—at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She invited her brother Jamie to go, too, mostly because he was a miser and would have money.

The two took up residence in the museum right on schedule. But once the fun of settling in was over, Claudia had two unexpected problems: she felt just the same, and she wanted to feel different; and she found a statue at the museum so beautiful she could not go home until she had discovered its maker, a question that baffled even the experts. The former owner of the statue was Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. And without her help Claudia might never have found a way to go home.

If you think the copywriter got a little dramatic at the end, well, let me assure you, they had nothing on 10-year-old me. But first things first: My favorite character was Claudia, obviously. (No offense to Jamie, but draw a picture of a BOY? It would have to be a cold day in hell.)



I seem to have been determined to draw every last one of Claudia's eyelashes.

Here's what I had to say about Claud:

Claudia is running away. She doesn't want to be running away but, running to somewhere. She picks the Art Museum. She runs away because she is treated unfairly. She is the oldest child and only girl in the family. When she and younger brother, Jamie, move in, they discover "Angel". Claudia's determination and Jamie's money lead them to Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler . . . . and the secret of Angel.

Despite the fact that I give zero explanation about the oh-so-mysterious "Angel," you can see that I was BORN to write juvenile marketing material. I think I may have missed my calling.

From the Mixed-Up Files is, in my opinion, the quintessential YA running away book, and woo boy, did I ever enjoy reading—and writing—about running away. (I mean, what could be cooler than living in the art museum? I ask you, WHAT?) In sixth grade, I actually plagiarized the bejesus out of this book in a story creatively titled "Running Away." You will totally get to read it once sixth grade rolls around.

Book Report #2
The assignment: A letter to the author
Book Report: Judge Benjamin: The Superdog Secret
Author: Judith Whitelock McInerney
Type: Animal Story
Pages: 140

Judith Whitelock McInerney wrote a whole slew of books about the redheaded O'Riley clan and their long-suffering Saint Bernard, Judge Benjamin (not to be confused with Judge Reinhold—man, there were way too many Judges in the '80s), who also happens to be the narrator. This was the only Judge Benjamin book that we owned, but it was also my favorite because it involved a mobile home. I was utterly fascinated with mobile homes after viewing a two-minute clip about them once on Sesame Street. I was all, "You can sit at a table and eat breakfast WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING? And play cards? And watch TV? WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING??? Sign me the fuck up!"

But back to the Saint Bernard:




The back of the book gives us this terse synopsis:

The O'Rileys are a big, happy family. There's Mr. & Mrs. O'Riley and their four children—Kathleen, Seth, Maura, and Annie. There's also Judge Benjamin, their 200-pound dog. One day Mr. O'Riley announces that they're all going on vacation in their new camper. All of them except Judge Benjamin, that is. But Annie has other ideas!

Yes, they somehow manage to hide a Saint Bernard in a mobile home. Don't ask. Here's what I had to say to ol' Judes about it:

Dear [left blank even though it CLEARLY states the author's name at the top of the page]

I think the Judge Benjamin books are great! I have read The Superdog Secret, The Superdog Surprise, The Superdog Rescue and the Superdog I forget!. I am writing this letter about The Superdog Secret. I think it is neat how you write it from Judge's point of view. I love the characters, too! Just like a real family: sometimes caring, fighting, sweet, firm, etc., but always loving. It was funny how the kids decided to hide Judge in the tiny tub in the trailer. How could he manage smelly socks on his nose and bras on his tail from Decatur to Canada? Poor Judge! But in the end he always comes through. Nothing is more important than his family!

Sincerely,
Sada

P.S. Keep Writing!

Yes, words of encouragement from a 10-year-old to a published author.

Book Report #3
The assignment: A diary for a week
Title: With Love From Karen
Author: Marie Killilea
Type: Non-fiction

I was a pretty strict fiction reader, but I made one critical exception: true stories about crippled children. Preferably written many decades earlier. I had a particular soft spot for blind children or—even better!—blind and deaf children. But Karen Killilea somehow managed to be the QUEEN of the crippled children, even though she still had all of her senses intact. For one thing, her book actually had a SEQUEL (reported on here; both books were written by her mom). And yeah, she had cerebral palsy, but she also had a Pollyanna-esque perkiness that made YOU wish that you had been born crippled just so you could learn to walk with crutches for the first time too! Also, the Killileas had about 78 million pets, and I was jealous because I had something that was maybe even WORSE than cerebral palsy: allergies.

Here's Karen with one of her 10,000 dogs:



The back cover copy hilariously reads:

For the thousands of people who personally wrote to ask, "What has happened to Karen since her story was published?" and for the millions whose hearts went out to this freckle-faced, pig-tailed little girl and wondered in silence about how she grew up, this book is a personal reply—written with tender appreciation, with love from Karen.

It was published in 1963, if that's any sort of excuse.

Anyway, my mom maintains that this book report is brilliant because I wrote it all in the decidedly sentimental style of Marie Killilea. I also used a different pen or pencil for each "diary entry," to give it that authentic feel:

Diary of Karen Killilea

Friday [written with pencil]:

I feel that I have made the right decision. No more will I be in the crutch's prison. Well, now that I have this diary "Mom Pom" gave me to keep up my good handwriting, I feel I should explain myself. I have cerebal palsy. Well time to eat dinner. Good-bye, dear diary!

With love,
from,
Karen

Saturday [written with pencil]:

Today we took Ocean Borne to a dog show. Ocean Borne and Peri are our Newfoundlands. Today, at the show, I had a surprise. Ed Doll was there! I remember when I sent him the telegram telling him that Ocean Borne went BOB (best of breed). He said WHO'S BOB? When I saw him we hugged and he said, "How's BOB?" So, I know he has not forgotten either. Soon, Gloria, Russ, Mary, and Evelyn will be home. I'M SO HAPPY.

But I miss Shanty and Rory. MUCH. VERY MUCH. OH WELL.

With Love,
From,
Karen

Sunday [written with pink pen!]:

Dear Diary,
How foolish I've been to not explain my spectacular family to you. There is "Mom Pom", Daddy, Gloria, Marie, Rory, and Kristen. And our animals! Shanty was my dog but, alas, he has passed away. Hmmmmmm. Now there is Ocean Borne, Peri, and Pierre. Our cats are many. One is Misty Morning. Another, Kristen's companion, is Etcetera, our darling Siamese with points! We also have 2 birds and more cats (of course). Glo and Russ (+ kids) lived in Florida and on Tuesday they are coming back.

GOD BLESS THEM!

With Love From,
Karen

P.S. We also have an alligator, Gigidinella, and a talking parrot, Gazebo

Monday [written with black pen]:

Dear Diary,
So much to do in so little time. Glo, Russ, Mary, and Evelyn will be here tomorrow "for keeps" says Glo. Let me tell you all about my important decision. I chose between riding in my wheelchair (FREEDOM) and the crutches (PAIN). Naturally I chose the wheelchair. I am free. Well, I still have to help prepare the surprise party for GLO AND RUSS! Excitement is in the air. I can smell it.

FREEDOM!

With Love From,
Karen

Tuesday [written with blue pen]:

Dear Diary,
Glo and Russ and Mary and Evelyn came home today. Evelyn is the most darling baby. Kristen loves her. (So does Etcetera.) And more animals! Glo presented me with a tank of the most beautiful tropical fish. Our menagerie grows! Rory came for a visit!!!!!!!!!! His girlfriend, Virginia McGuire, brought us a puppy, a beutiful Golden Retriever, who Virginia claimed she was called Shannon. (I guess Rory told her about Shanty.) Glo is back and they are looking for a house. Jean, our neighbor, said things were back to normal. Even Marie, her husband, Ronald, and son were there.

I AM SO HAPPY. I WISH SHANTY WERE HERE.

With all My Love Family + Friends From,
Karen

Wednesday [written with pink pen]:

Dear Diary,
Today, oh, today was a glorious day. We went to the beach. It was warm enough. Virginia does the most remarkable dives. Shannon joined our 3 dogs (2 Newfs, 1 Daschund) in a water/romp game of fetch-the-frisbee. What fun. Kristen is learning to hold her breath! Mary can swim!!!! It is nice to see us all together. I happily took note that Marie and Gloria are the same fantastic swimmers they used to be. Glo, Mare, Ginia (VIRGINIA), and myself raced, swimming, in the water. I had some tough competition. Later, Mommy told me we were all very impressive.

WHAT FUN I HAD TODAY I WILL REMEMBER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

All My Love,
Karen

Thursday [written with pencil]:

Dear Diary,
Today Rory and Ginia went away. (AGAIN!!!!!) Glo and Russ have already found the perfect house. I suspect mommy was hunting for them when they were in Florida. Now they are getting a Labrador. We used to have one named Highland Lark (Lark for short). Mary wants to get a dog named "fishy". She is hilarious! Today was OK, I guess.

SO LONG, DEAR DIARY!

With Love from Karen

Wow. Two things:
1) I definitely read those books way too many times.
2) I kind of want to write everything à la Marie Killilea from now on. Ahem:

This trip down memory lane has been such glorious fun! How lucky I was to have such impressive authors to emulate and such remarkable books to plagiarize. And how foolish I've been not to write like the spectacular Killileas all along!

WHAT FUN I HAD WRITING THIS BLOG ENTRY I WILL REMEMBER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. Well, time to eat dinner. Good-bye, my dear, darling readers!

With love,
from,
Sada

NEXT TIME: Plot treatments for some stories that never were, but definitely should have been (hi, The Bikini Summer?).