Hello Everyone,
My
''high interest'' chapterbook for children ages 8-11 or so is called
Jack's Tales. It's three differrent stories about my main character Jack (realistic-quirky fiction). I'm very close to having it ready to release. I wrote this book for teachers to use for boys who just haven't latched on to any fiction yet. The three stories are designed to be very fast, quirky, and very character centered. I hope to also be invited to visit classrooms and provide fun activities and writing lessons to accompany the book.
I thought I'd run a little test first. If anyone has the time, please read it and let me know your thoughts. I'd like to get feedback on its potential for engagement for boys and whether it hits the age group well-say 8 to 11 or third to fifth grades. The other two stories are written in the same style (ghosthunting and soccer). Any additional thoughts/comments would be very much appreciated.This is the first story,
Jack's Save. Here is a little bit more about this story and me as well.
http://paperdragonink.com/?p=2022
For those who do read it and decide to help, I can set you up with copies once it comes out. I plan on having teaching resources/guides/activities/connections to the Common Core to accompany it as well. I can reward those that do with resource freebies.
Thank you very much,
Jim Westcott
So, here it is: Hope you enjoy!
Jack’s Tales
These
are three stories about a boy named Jack.
Jack’s
Monster
Jack’s
Pizza Ghost
Jack’s
Save
In each story, Jack is a year older. In each story, find out how Jack
deals with some normal and not so normal problems in his life.
Want
to find out?
Then
start with Jack’s Monster!
Jack’s Monster
Jack didn’t open his eyes, but he listened. He hoped
to hear rain hammering against his window and a strong wind pushing through the
trees, anything to cancel today’s fishing trip. Unfortunately, he heard birds
singing as warm sunlight cast an extra blanket over his bed.
Jack liked fishing with his dad. But since his best
friend, Brandon, told him what he saw from his cottage dock on Irondequoit Bay,
he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Brandon told him there were large humps near
their favorite fishing spot, bobbing and sliding in the water.
Brandon liked messing with him. This is what best
friends do and this time it really worked!
Once he worries about something, it’s hard to stop. It
starts with an image. He can see the
head of a dragon with pointed teeth as long as a ruler and the body of a super-
sized snake, bobbing and sliding toward him, all of this from their boat.
Soon after that, questions follow in his mind:
Does
a monster really live in Irondequoit Bay?
Answer:It’s
probably the Loch Ness Monster’s cousin.
Is it
a vegetarian?
Answer: Not with
teeth like that.
Footsteps interrupt his thoughts. Closer they creep.
Outside his room then they are creeping inside his
room.
Don’t move. Pretend you’re in a deep sleep, Jack
is thinking.
Jack’s father pushes him back and forth like a
cradle. Jack doesn't open his eyes; he
fakes snoring; however, his fake snore sounds like a sick cow. His dad pulls
the covers off.
“Oh, hey Dad,” he said, in his best sleepy voice.
“Time to get up, buddy. Got to get an early start --when they’re
hungry!”
Hungry... Hungry... He hoped only fish, not monsters,
were hungry this morning.
At the kitchen table, he swirled his cereal around,
barely eating.
“First time out this season.” Dad smiled. “We’re gonna
catch us a monster!”
The cereal stopped in his throat and thrust back up
where it came from. Some of the mushy spray landed on his dad’s toast.
His father sprung from his seat and hit Jack’s back.
“Jack! Swallow!” he said, even though there was nothing left.
Jack took a long slug from his orange juice. “Wrong
way. Sorry.”
“Sure you’re ok?” he asked as he positioned his hand
to slap Jack on the back if he started choking.
“All
good.” Green, yellow and red bits of what formerly was Fruit Loops covered the
plate of toast.
Since He already loaded the car, “well then! I guess
it’s time to go fishing,” his dad said.
Jack watched
the houses go by on the way to their dock.
“You know what the bay monster eats?” Brandon had
whispered in his ear yesterday after Jack told him about going fishing with his
dad. Brandon yelled, “Chomp! Chomp! Jack burger!” He laughed when Jack jumped.
At their dock, imagining serving himself as a large
cheeseburger to whatever was in the bay, getting ready to fish wasn’t exactly
on his mind. First, he left his tackle box in the car. Then he left the bucket
of minnows there. Next, he left his life jacket.
When he left his pole in the car too his dad waved his
hands in front of his son’s face and said, “Earth to Jack!”
Jack scowled and shuffled back to the truck. When he’d
brought back what he needed, he sat quietly in the back of the boat. He was more aware this morning than usual. He
noticed the soft breeze carrying the smell of bay water. He usually liked this
smell. Today, though, it gave him that feeling in his stomach, the
head-in-the-toilet feeling.
Last chance, Jack. Tell him.
“You ok buddy?”
“I’m ok, I think.”
“Sure you’re ready?” Jack didn’t answer. Ready to
puke, Jack was thinking.
The engine rumbled. The water
churned behind them. They began to glide away from the dock, slowly.
Soon they were speeding away from it. Jack turned and
watched his safety zone become smaller until the docks appeared to be dark
brown wooden popsicle sticks separating toy boats, one from the other.
He turned ahead, cool wind pushed at his face and
forced tears from his eyes.
He put his chin on his knees and stared at the floor.
The thought of meeting the bay monster made his stomach whirl like a
pinwheel. Don’t puke. Don’t puke. These
words repeated in his head until the boat slowed and his dad shut off the
engine. The boat glided to a stop, in the sitting duck position on the water.
His father walked to the stern and said, with his back
turned to Jack, “This is it buddy. My secret sources
told me not to tell anyone, but I
can tell you.” Jack lifted his head from his knees and looked at this father.
“We’re the only ones that know, so don’t say anything to anyone.” he added.
Not gonna, dad, because we’re both gonna be monster
bait. He thought.
“Know what?” Jack asked, reluctantly.
His dad turned and smiled at Jack. “There’s a monster
right in this spot!”
Thanks Dad, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.
Not, don’t worry…we brought a bay monster gun with us
or Jack, Bay Monsters aren’t real….no, he had to say that!
Jack’s father sat down in the front of the boat and
slid his tackle box to the seat across from him. He opened it and began taking
out lures, just like always, holding them in front of his face. Even though
he’s seen each one a hundred times, he does this every time they go fishing,
like he's waiting for the lure to tell him it’s the right one. While in his
“lure zone,” he doesn't notice Jack’s head dangling over the side of the boat.
Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke, Jack! Here it comes!
His neck felt tight and his stomach started to quiver
from the inside. The rest of his Fruit Loops were about to rise from his
stomach and become water pollution when his father’s hand grabbed the back of
his shirt and pulled the top half of his body upright.
“Stop goofin’ around and start fishing. You want to
fall in?” He tightened the strap on Jack’s life jacket. He walked back to the
stern and casted something large and shiny. It flashed in the air until it
created a circle in
the dark water.
Jack watched him turn the handle on his spinning reel
and realized he wasn’t going to puke. The tightness in his neck was gone. His
stomach stopped quivering.
“You remember the knot I taught you? What are you
going to use?” his father asked. “A lure or bait?”
Jack’s brain quickened and then he said, “I think I’m
going to use a minnow.”
“Sure you don’t want to go for something bigger, bud?”
“I’m sure,” he replied, thinking, Dad! For real!
The smaller, the better!
He twisted and looped the line-once, then twice around
the eye of the hook, brought it through again and it cinched tightly. He pulled
on the line. It was strong, just like his dad had showed him. He attached a
bright orange bobber to his line, about two feet above his hook. He swirled his
hand in the bucket through the panicking minnows, until he could feel the first
unlucky one squirming inside his palm.
He looked at the silver and black minnow in his hand,
its mouth opening and closing, its silver scales coming off like it was
shedding glitter.
“I know how you feel,” he whispered, as he put
the hook through its tail so he
wouldn’t really injure it. He cast his line out and watched the minnow land in
the water. His bobber followed and broke the glassy surface.
He then watched the bobber for any movement. It was as
still as the water. Not too long after his cast, he stopped watching; his mind
switched to the questions again.
The questions held him against his will just like his
hook through the minnow’s tail. No matter how hard he tried to swim away from
them, they wouldn’t let him escape.
Do they sleep during the day and hunt at night, like
vampires?
Answer: Nope. Brandon saw it during the day!
Do they sense fear like bears and bees?
Answer: If they do, we’re monster bait!
Just questions - then pictures - questions - then
pictures - until......
His reel screeched and this sound snatched him back to
reality! His bobber vanished. This is
when the bay water smelled stronger than ever and the sun felt like a dragon’s
breath on his face. He stood and his legs trembled as if he had a colony of
angry ants in each pant leg. Something down there was causing his drag to sound
like that. Jack leaned against the side of
the boat to steady his legs, then
he turned the reel. It wouldn’t turn easily as usual.
He’d used a spinning reel many times, maybe a couple
of hundred. He was awesome for someone who is only eight but he suddenly forgot
how to use it. So, he turned the handle in the wrong direction and the handle
flung to the bottom of the boat. It was like he knew the handle should be
turned the other way, but his hand couldn’t stop. This is when his arms
stretched over the side of the boat, toward the water, as if they were string
cheese.
It took his minnow. It took his hook. It wanted his
line. It wanted his bobber. It wanted his pole. It wanted their boat. And after
these snacks.
It would take him next!
The only thing Jack could do was to yell, “Monster!
Monster!”
“Jack! Hang on!” his father shouted in a panic. His
dad dropped his pole to the bottom of the boat, while trying to reach the
handle from Jack’s pole. He grabbed Jack’s handle then screwed it back into his
reel and all of this while the monster was attempting to yank Jack over the
side of the boat, skipping the effort of coming for its meal.
Jack grabbed onto the handle and made sure he turned
it, this time in the right direction so it wouldn’t fling off again. The reel
screeched louder, as whatever down there took line as it pleased.
“You can do this! “You can do this! Keep reeling it
in!” his dad shouted.
Jack held onto the pole with his left hand held just
below the reel
jabbing the handle against his
stomach. He held onto the handle with his right hand and struggled to turn it
in his favor. The handle reluctantly
turned in Jack’s direction until whatever down there suddenly decided not to
play along any more. The pole almost flung from Jack’s grip when it pulled
back.
“Is it snagged?” his father asked, holding his hand
around the pole.
“I-I don’t know. It isn’t moving. I can’t move it!” It
felt like a boulder on the end of his line.
“Take your time. Don’t horse it. This is something
big, Jack!”
Dad, you have no idea!
Jack’s arms weakened as it pulled. He wanted to let
go. He should have let go! But, he didn’t. Jack! Are you loco? Guess you want to be a Jack Burger!
“I bet it’s snagged,” his dad said.
Then the line moved slowly toward the boat and
stopped.
“It’s no snag,” Jack said, watching the line.
Then it swam a little again slowly, this time toward
the bow. And it stopped. Jack could still feel its weight. Sweat dripped from
Jack’s forehead. His breath was heavy.
“Let it do what it wants, Jack,” his dad whispered,
like he worried it would hear their plan or something.
Should I
really let it do what it wants? Answer: Duh! It’s gonna do what it wants anyway!
And it wants a Jack Burger!
Jack closed his eyes and felt his hand reeling, kind
of slow, then faster, circle after circle, faster and faster, easier and
easier….too easy! Way too easy!
The line was spooling in along with what was on the
end of it! It decided to take its meal. And a Jack Burger was the main course
on the menu.
The reel stopped but he kept reeling with his eyes
closed. The pulling stopped.
Now he heard a splashing sound over the side of the
boat and felt cold water hit his arms and face. It arrived!
He didn’t want to open his eyes, but he did anyway,
and, to his horror, he saw his father hanging over the edge, fighting for his
life, about to be monster bait.
During what should have been the scariest moment in
his life, let’s face it, any kid’s life, he felt strangely calm, not scared at
all. He didn’t turn into a liquid, dropping into a puddle on the boat floor
then sucked into the carpet. He didn’t freak out like a baby that suddenly had
his binky stolen. He didn’t morph into a human ball, tucking himself under his
seat, sucking his thumb. He didn’t do any of these things.
What he did was get angry! This thing would have to go
through him first before it messed with his dad!
He yelled, “Not today! Think you can mess with me!” He
wrapped his arms around his father’s waist.
With his dad’s life within his arms, he yelled,
“Dad! I’m not letting you go!
Fight it!”
His dad swung toward him with the net in his hands. He
released the net in the space between the front seats. It sounded like a side
of beef landing on the bottom of the boat.
It was in the boat!
Jack heard thuds and something slimy, wet and cold
slapped his ankles.
“It’s a monster!” his dad screamed. “I don’t believe
it!”
Jack grabbed a wooden oar twice as long as his body
and steadied it behind his right shoulder.
“Leave him alone! Leave us alone! Die, you Monster!”
His dad grabbed the oar and pulled on it until Jack
let go. He set the oar down and wrapped his arms around his son in a tight hug.
He held Jack's head against his chest, and said, “You did it. You did it! You
did it!”
What is he talking about?
Jack looked down at a mouth in the shape of a sneer,
full of spikes, biting the net. The monster had black spots down its side like
a Cheetah’s and its tail looked like a thin brown, slimy diver’s flipper.
Jack’s dad let him go and crouched down so his eyes
were even with his. “You just caught the biggest monster I’ve ever seen.”
Jack still didn’t understand. His dad wasn’t hurt and
he wasn't scared at all.
“It’s bigger than any pike I’ve caught! It’s
gotta
be fifteen pounds, Jack!”
Jack gawked at his monster. His heartbeat slowed. The
word “pike” popped into his head. It’s not a water monster. It’s a fish, a
pike, a huge pike!
He dropped the pole, slumped backward onto a seat and
stared at his beautiful catch. He didn’t move for the next few minutes, his
arms and legs felt like overcooked spaghetti.
Now free from the net, his monster was surprisingly
still. Its sharp triangle-like teeth showed as it opened and closed its mouth.
Its gills moved in and out. He could see bright pink inside its gills. Its
stomach was white, shiny, and bulging from its thick glistening side.
“Come here, Jack.” His dad kneeled next to it.
Jack slowly stood and stepped over his pole.
“See its fins on each side?”
Jack nodded.
“Look at its teeth,” he said. “Want to touch it?”
Jack looked at his father.
His dad ran a few fingers down its side. The pike was
thick in the middle; it got thinner toward its tail.
“It’s calmed down now, it’s tired, it won’t do
anything.”
Jack kneeled over his monster and put a finger behind
its gill. He’d handled fish before; he'd even taken
them off the hook. But, this
didn’t feel like the others.
This fish was smooth and slick. It didn’t have rough
scales like a perch or sunfish. It was harder behind its gill but much softer
down its stomach. He stopped running his finger down its side and he flattened
his hand out. He could feel it trying to breath, trying to live. Its gills
moved in and out and he could see more pink.
Just a few minutes ago, this creature appeared to be a
vicious water monster that wanted him for a snack. Now it seemed much
different.
“What should we do with it?” his dad asked seriously.
The fish looked tired as if it had given Jack
everything it had. He would never forget what a fight it had given him. Jack
felt like there was nothing more he needed from it.
“Put it back in the water, dad.”
His dad smiled and rubbed Jack’s head.
“You sure? This is the kind that gets mounted on
walls.”
It was still now, waiting for Jack’s decision. “It
needs to go back, dad.” Jack repeated. “Seeing it on a wall would just make me
sad. We shouldn’t take its life too. It already gave me something I’ll never
forget.”
“Of course, buddy.”
His dad lifted it under its huge, white belly by
putting a hand underneath its gill and one near its tail.
“Put out your arms and hold your hands up.” His dad
put it into Jack’s hands.
“Careful. You got it?” he asked, as he grabbed
their official boat camera and
snapped a picture.
Jack gave the monster back to his dad and watched him
gently lower the monster over the side. It moved lazily like a snake, near the
side of the boat then it quietly vanished.
After this, they decided to call it a day and get some
breakfast.
This had felt like the right thing to do, release the
fish and eat a good meal.
On their way to the dock, Jack could feel the sun on
his face. He enjoyed the wind pushing against him. The bay water never smelled
better and he didn’t care how long it took to get back to the dock. His father
looked back at him and smiled. He smiled back.
A few weeks after this, while looking at his picture
again, he realized he hadn’t thought of any questions for a while. He just felt
better about himself a lot more now. It was a nice feeling.
He also realized that Brandon was right. There really
is a monster in Irondequoit Bay.
But, unlike Brandon, Jack has proof.
