In the middle school I work in there are electives, well sort of. There is AN elective that can be designed by teachers (or the time can be used by students who need to keep up with the course load). Some students prefer to use their time out of school to play catch up - there are some students who prefer to have a teacher there though to give them a hand. Both good options depending on your learning style. There are however students who choose to opt for the enrichment electives. This time around we are writing a book in mine. Not just any type of book - a Choose Your Own Adventure book (in the vein of the master himself, R. A. Montgomery). Twelve students signed up to write a book, no hesitation, no qualms with the fact that I told them there would be extra homework, they just wanted to be involved in this and learn. The most pure form of education - when someone chooses to push for the sheer joy of learning something new.
Anyhow, I requested that all of them write an intro to the book (the first couple pages) and that they would then, as a group, decide which one started the story off best. I was impressed with them all yet I was specifically impressed with one of them (and was happy that the students chose that as the beginning). In reality this is better written than the actual CYOA books that I remember reading as a wee lad and it was written by an eighth grader; color me impressed.
Anyhow, I am trying to pre-sell thirty copies of the book (at $10 a book) so that I can afford to actually self publish this when they finish it (which wont be for a few months). Really though what have you to lose? Ten bucks to support children and encourage them to write. Plus, choose your own adventure books are awesome. So if you are interested in supporting this great cause, please e-mail and I'll give you the address to send it to! Thanks in advance for your support. Oh yeah, here's the first couple pages.....
I couldn’t believe it. Here I was sitting in what seemed like an endless land of dry grass and dirt. The heat was atrocious and the bugs swarmed around me maniacally pecking at my exposed skin.
“I hate Africa!” I shouted to my mom as we say on two rocks staring at nothing.
“We’ll only be here for two weeks,” my mother replied soft-spokenly.
“Two weeks too long!” I replied nastily.
“You know I have to be here. I have to study the tigers to find a cure for them. It is strictly working,” my mother answered in a calm tone.
I despised her relaxed attitude and crunchy personality. Let Africa take care of its own problems! We’ve been here three days and so far all I’ve done is sit around and draw in the dirt. All the other African kids stare at me in suspicion. My mom and I are staying in a tiny hut constructed of straw with walls made of cow poop – lovely.
The sun was kissing the top of the trees about two miles away. The sunset was just about to melt behind the dense forest and soon enough it would be dark.
“We should head back in,” my mother stated.
I didn’t reply; I just picked up my backpack and canteen and trudged in the direction of our shack.
That night when I was laying down in my uncomfortable straw bed I took a minute to listen to the animals outside our shack. I held my breath as I heard several birds chirp and tweet in the distance; occasionally I heard the faint screech of an unknown animal. If I hadn’t already absorbed so much hate for Africa it might actually be…nice. I tried to get comfortable and was basically using my brown curly hair as a pillow. After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning my eyelids slowly blanketed my almond shaped eyes and I let the animal sounds lull me to sleep.
The next morning I rose earlier than usual; as a sixteen year old ten o’clock was my earliest. For some reason today I felt alert and it was barely seven o’clock. I wasn’t sure what to do with my spare time so I decided to write a letter to my best friends Felicia and Gabriella back home in Chatham, Delaware. I told them about my trip so far and told them to take care of my cockatoo Evie. The letter wasn’t very detailed but not much had gone on so I ended my letter with a ‘love Ally’ and then sealed it away in an envelope. When I finished that I noticed I only used up fifteen minutes. I was just taking out one of my favorite Nancy Drew books when I thought of another idea. Maybe I’ll write to my dad; I hadn’t seen him in years but we had an occasional phone call.
My dad lives in Kentucky so there were rarely visits but for some reason I had the urge to write to him so I sided with my gut feeling and did. When I was done I felt good but I had a lot of extra time still available.
“There has got to be something I can do,” I quietly commented to myself.
I glanced out the window past my sleeping mother and out at a little red bird fluttering at the window frame. I gasped in amazement at the beautiful colors radiating off of the fragile creature. The bird was a masterpiece of articulate color and design. It seemed like a fantasy and I was drawn to its beauty. The bird started to drift away and I was so hypnotized that I couldn’t let it escape my sight. I scribbled a quick note for my mom, grabbed my backpack, and headed after the bird.
The small bird had not gone far; his glossy black eyes, blood colored feathers, and ocean blue-green belly was impossible to lose sight of. I danced after the bird for the longest time; I remained hypnotized by the black marbles the bird had for eyes. The longer I followed him the darker it got. I was oblivious to my surroundings; all I could see was read and blue.
Finally, the bird stopped and I thought it would let me stroke its feathers but instead it flew straight up into a large tree and was out of sight. Wait – a tree?? There weren’t any trees! Just a minute ago I was in deserted grassland; where am I?
I looked around; I was enveloped in massive trees, overgrown plants, and wild flowers. In all directions I could see trees beyond trees. I smelled the damp leaves and dirt; it smelled fresh and clean, not like the woods back home. Here everything was dark and shady and I felt as if I was being watched. My hands got all sweaty and my mouth dried up; suddenly I was desperate for my canteen.
The sounds of the jungle startled me, I jumped at every sound. I couldn’t remember what direction I came in. Was it left? No, it must have been right? I questioned myself about where the bird had gone as I paced in small circles. Then suddenly I heard a noise; a rustling in the giant plant in front of me. I couldn’t see anything behind or in it. I heard a low grumble and the plant rustled more and petals fell off their flowers.
“Hello?” I tried weakly, my voice raspy and cracked when I said it. I gulped and swallowed whatever saliva was in my mouth. I gripped my hands and my stomach felt like it was trying to run away from the mess we were in. The rustling became more forceful then abruptly stopped.
If you decide to jump on the shrub to find out what was rustling go to page ______
If you decide to run in the opposite direction as fast as you can go to pace ______