Stories from a third-grade Emily

Tip of the Day: if you want to have some fun look through some of your old stories. Especially ones from your childhood.

This week’s blog entry turned out to be much more exciting to write than I had anticipated. While searching for an old story from high school, I found hidden deep within my school memorabilia box stories from second through fourth grade that I didn’t know existed. Reading some of these masterpieces with amazing titles like Super Cave, How the Elephant Got It’s Trunk, 10 Day Diary of Moon Trip, Icicle the Town, and Salt Boy proved extremely entertaining.

Picking an excerpt to share of my not-so-master writing skills as a third grader was hard, but I had to go with a little tale called NAN AND THE GHOST because it’s possible this story was my first foray into plots with mysterious elements and mild suspense. Here it is, spelling and grammar mistakes and all:

The night had grown cold. Nan could smell the scent of pine needles. The wind whistled thought a broken pane. It sounded the groan of someone is pain. Nan thought, “For two cents I’d leave this cabin and go home.” But she knew the whole situation would seem better in the morning.

Suddenly Nan heard a loud cracking sound. It was coming from the attic. Nan thought it might be a ghost. But she said to herself there is no such thing as a scary ghost. But Nan thought could there be such a thing as a scary ghost? If there was it would be a nice ghost or it would be a mean ghost. If it was a nice ghost, she could play with it. Then she thought it was probably her dad.

When Nan was downstairs her father and mother were downstairs too. When they were at the table eating they heard the loud cracking sound. Nan said to her dad and mom “I heard that cracking sound before today.” Dad said “I had better check the attic.” Dad went up the creepy stairs. When he was in the attic, he looked around. He had found a door. He opened the door. Inside was a rocking chair. It was rocking. It was right above the kitchen. That’s what caused the loud cracking sound.

As much as I try, I cannot read the line “For two cents I’d leave this cabin and go home” without giggling uncontrollably. I don't think that was the intended effect.

And I’m sorry, this was too funny I had to include a snippet from another story titled A STRANGE PACKAGE in which a girl gets a mysterious package that must be opened on “Nov. the 24.”

The next day I wanted to open the package, but I knew that I couldn’t. That’s why I called it a strange package. All I want right now is a fudge, gingerbread cake. I thought, maybe it was a bicycle. Maybe it’s a big toy giraffe that is in danger. Maybe it’s a court room and a judge that you can play with. It maybe a gentle giant that does magic and lives in a cage at the edge of a bridge. It maybe a giant giraffe that is just two years old and lives in a very big cage.

Okay, I have no idea where my mind was in the third grade. Seriously, a court room and a judge you could play with? Now if only a Judge Judy Lego set existed back then.

A writer was apparently born thanks to my third-grade teacher Ms. Murphy, and I didn't even know it. So thank you, Ms. Murphy for making us write so many creative writing pieces.

--Emily, Miss Awaiting an Agent