…with The Young Writers Guild of Prince of Wales Island today….

I introduced (corrupted?) the youth to Dr. Wicked’s Write or Die this morning. They took to it like fish to … you know. The result? One of the young writers and I sat down and tag-teamed this on Write or Die. It took about 20 minutes total and was lots of fun. I love writing with these kids. They’re fresh and funny and their stream of consciousness writing is always surprising and a delight. The following is by Mary The Bold and (as she named me) Mrs. Marshall the Kind and Awesome. What better praise can you get in your life than that? The story’s a little trippy and mind bending, but it sure was fun to write!
“It was a poofy little marshmallow that started the whole thing. I didn’t intentionally sneak into Charlie Brown’s house and shove a marshmallow in his throat. I was just sleepwalking. Snoopy will back me up on this. You know how he’s usually up there on his doghouse snoozing away….or writing something? Well, tonight was different. He was asleep at the foot of Charlie Brown’s bed when I came in. He looked up and looked at me all (0.o) and I figured he knew I was sleepwalking… I guess… ’cause I was asleep, you know? I mean, I think that’s what he must have been looking at me like that ’cause that’s how I would look at someone who was sleepwalking into my room… you know?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t know. And I was wondering how you got to Mr. Charlie Brown’s house and back to your house in one night when it would take you five hours to drive to his house, if you could drive.”
“That, officer, is one of life’s great mysteries.”
The policeman continued to gaze impassively at me. “Mysteries…,” he muttered with a shake of his head as he flipped open his notebook and began to scribble.
“Um…yes,” I replied, my voice a little nervous now as I shifted from foot to foot. “You know, mysteries … like Murder She Wrote–” I stopped.
The policeman raised an eyebrow. “Murder?” he started.
“It’s a..,” I hesitated, looking around wildly for the right word, which was hiding under a nearby bush and poked its head out tentatively. “Metaphor!”
“Nice save,” the word muttered and slid back under the bush.
“Metaphor,” he continued, clicking his pen open and closed. “Sounds like a 7th grade English word…”
“Yes!” I agreed. “Gotta love Middle School English class!” I tried to smile. It quickly faltered…
“I’m afraid we need to take you in for court martialling. Martialing. That word must have been used in seventh grade too…”
“Yes!” I cried immediately. “Yes, it was! BUT I SWEAR IT WASN’T ME! I DIDN’T MURDER CHARLIE BROWN!” The officer looked calmly at me.
“I’ve never talked to a crazed brown cow before.” Yes, I was a brown cow.
Two days later in court:
“It was my cousin Bill!”
The prosecutor sighed profoundly. “You don’t HAVE a cousin Bill,” he replied.
“Oh,” I muttered, looking away. “I forgot about that. I meant my cousin William!”
The prosecutor sighed again and rubbed at his eyes. “Crazed brown cows don’t have cousins…”
“Oh,” I muttered. I chewed on my lip…or a cud…sometimes it’s hard to differentiate between the two.
“Well?” he wondered finally.
I blinked. “Well… do I have Aunties?”
“Dang,” I muttered again, still chewing. “Uncles?” I ventured hopefully.
“No relations,” he replied coldly.
“Well, that’s sad,” I replied, and pulled out the big guns. I fixed the largest, brownest, saddest cow-eyes EVER at the jury. “I don’t have anyone in the world..,” I started sadly.
I could see tears in the eyes of the jurors.
“What are you doing?!” The prosecutor demanded.
“No one in the world,” I sniffled. “Isn’t that sad?”
“Stop it!” he demanded.
“NOT GUILTY!” The jurors cried.
“Case dismissed!” the judge sobbed….
“HOLD ON!” A large hooded figure burst into the hall. “If it’s a murder that’s recent, no one has joined me in a while.” Suddenly, all eyes were turned toward me.
“ALL RIGHT!” I sobbed, finaly cracking under the pressure. “I KIDNAPPED CHARLIE BROWN! I WANTED HIS PLACE ON THE BASEBALL TEAM!” The Judge stared at me hard.
“So we know why. But the question is how.” He paused “How now, brown cow?”