I try not to think of that morning in May of this year of 1851. It is muddled in my brain anyway, maybe because I choose to leave it muddled. I did not see it all, I tell myself. I was upstairs in my room in our rambling white farmhouse, sent upstairs by Papa, because I sassed Aunt Susan Elizabeth. She was Papa's aunt, getting on in years and in grouchiness.
[ I'll post the answer tomorrow =) ]
"The good writer develops his own voice, her own voice. You just can't do that if you don't listen to yourself. And the best way to listen to yourself is to read to yourself -- out loud. Listen for the cadence -- or the discordance. Listen for the beat -- and the offbeat. Listen for the rhyme and the reason. Sometimes, you'll hear the jarring word, the awkward phrase -- the word that looked just fine but sounded junky, the phrase that typed nice but sounded clunky. So, talk." --Michael Gartner
This is the first line and first paragraph from what MG novel ?? [ check back here tomorrow for the answer =) ]
I am eleven years old and I am invisible.
I am sitting at my desk, in my classroom, on a perfect autumn afternoon - Friday, October 19, 1962. My desk is in the farthest row, next to the windows. I squint into the sunshine and watch a brilliant gold leaf fall from a spindly old tree by the sidewalk and then I open Makers of America to page forty-seven because it's social studies time. I love social studies, love everything about it, and most of all I love to read aloud.
Ease into the Summer with this song =)
My father didn't tell me how to live;
he lived, and let me watch him do it.
~Clarence Budington Kelland
Richard Peck says we write by the light of every book we've ever read -
I've gotta keep reading- to keep writing better! =)