On another note, I've been told by a number of people now that I am a very good writer. I don't feel that my writing is spectacular by any means. In fact, I would much rather read another person's writings than my own because I like to experience the deeper thinking and more elaborate descriptions that they put together. There is something so much more refined in the way other people can express themselves that I haven't been able to see in my own writing. My writing seems simple. After a discussion with my momma, I came to the conclusion that perhaps this is not as bad as it first appears. Sure, I don't have a philosopher's tongue. No, I can't always piece words together so eloquently that readers can watch them dance (that was a quick attempt though). Instead, my writing is simple and honest. I try to provide a laugh or two when I can manage to think of something funny, and I just write as if I were talking (except my words don't work so well when I'm talking, so telling stories is much easier this way). All this rambling was a lead in to tell you that my aunt even suggested that I write a book. WELL LET ME TELL YOU! As a matter of fact, I actually did start writing a book years ago, and until recently, I had totally forgotten about it. I can't remember how old I was when I wrote this, but the last time it was saved on my computer I was 13. My working masterpiece takes shape as a children's book about a Native American boy named Ducky. I would like to share it with you all now. tehe!
Ducky Does It
Ducky was an Indian who was afraid of water. He was very short and couldn’t swim. He lived right next to a river. Ducky was only six years old, and he never went near the river because the water was cold and deep.
A whole year passed without Ducky going near the river. He was seven now and braver. He thought to himself, “I need to stand up to my fear.” So he went down to the river and sat down. After awhile he started to relax. He stood up and walked into the water. “This isn’t so bad,” he thought. Then he tripped over a rock and fell in. He quickly jumped to his feet and ran as fast he could back home.
It was already late in the evening, so Ducky went straight to bed. That night he had a terrifying nightmare. The nightmare was about him falling into the river, trying and trying to swim out, but he just couldn’t.
That morning he woke up frightened into a cold sweat. The sun was up and as bright as ever. It was a warm day. He went back down to the river. He put his toe into the water, and said to himself,” The water is warm today.” Ducky walked into the water. His brain wanted to have
And that's where I stopped! What a line! "His brain wanted to have..." So many potential things that his brain could have that I couldn't even finish my thought. Silly Andrew...
Anywho, I think it would be really cool to write a book. I don't know what I would write about, but the challenge that it presents for me is incredibly appealing. One thing is for sure though, I won't be writing a book about a boy named Ducky.
(Also, I went bowling and scored a 147. Ignore this final thought if you're better than me, and everyone else....Look at that number and be amazed!)