Hello again! If you've ever read my blog before I'm sure you've noticed my new snazy design. I just thought I could do with some redecorating around here. I think it looks a little more "California".
We were guests on The Red River Writers Talk Radio show today. Of course 24 hours beforehand Mike gets sicker than I've seen him in a long time, and even seemed to lose his voice last night. Fortunately he sounded pretty good at 10:20 this morning when we called in. He's so-o much better at on the spot interviews than I am. I have a tendency to "clam up" which isn't very good radio. All in all it went well though we both said our thing and I thought April Robins, the host, was really friendly and nice, she even invited us to submit to her magazine.:)
Anyway, now my throat's on fire and I'm not so full of witty commentary so here's a little story by Chloe that is really great in my totally biased opinion...
I didn't wanna move. But we had to for my daddy´s job. I slouch down in my seat and sulk.
"Hey you, get outta my seat."
I sit up straight and turn to face the speaker, I expect some loud mouth teenager, instead, I find a girl about my age with perfectly primped blonde hair. I say nothing and don´t move. Blondie taps her fingers impatiently.
"Well?" she says at last.
"I ain´t movin´." I say. Obviously, I´ve said the wrong thing, 'cause this princess won´t take no for an answer. With a new found strength she grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me into the aisle. She smirks and sits down. I get up and dust myself off. When the bus stops in front of the school I hurry to leave.
"Hey, you." someone says. I turn around and discover a tall girl with brown pigtails standing behind me.
"Wadda you want?" I ask, in such a bad mood I´ll be rude to anyone. But this girl doesn´t seem to mind.
"My name is Kayla, and in this school you gotta hurry. You can´t stop, you gotta keep moving, there´s no time." she says.
"Shut up! I don´t gotta do anything!" I say, wondering what she´s talking about. Suddenly the girl is gone, but hey, so´s everything else. I realize I´ve stopped moving. Everything is empty. I try to scream but can´t, because the "school" I was in is just an impression of long ago, as am I.
All is empty in this ghost town as I sigh and hurry back to the stop where the bus will pick me up again, so that I can continue to relive my first and last day at Morrington junior high.
"People are willing to take these extraordinary chances to become writers, musicians, or painters, and because of them, we have a culture. If this ever stops, our culture will die, because most of our culture, in fact, has been created by people that got paid nothing for it--people like Edgar Allan Poe, Vincent Van Gogh or Mozart."-Kurt Vonnegut