Daddy Will Explain. Come, He Is Blowing

Anyway. Leo Said, I Hope You've Got Your Worksheet, 'cause I Used Mine For Spit Wads Days Ago. Why Are You Looking At Me Like That? Somebody Draw On My Face Again?

All I Could Think Of Was That The Teachers Must've Found The Illegal Stash Of Candy I'd Been Selling Out Of My Dorms Room. Or Maybe They'd Realized I Got My Essay On Tom Sawyer From The Internet Without Ever Reading The Book And Now They Were Going To Take Away My Grade. Or Worse, They Were Going To Make Me Read The Book.

Kids, If Anything, Are Harder To Write For Because They Are A More Discerning Audience. They Will Not Stay With You If You Go Off On A Tangent Or If You Give Them Extraneous Information That Doesn't Serve The Story. You Really Have To Tell A Tight Story. You Have To Give Them Humor And Suspense And Believable Characters. All Those Things That Adults Want Too, But You Have To Be Really On Your Game When You're Writing For Kids.

I Looked At The Campers, All Of Them Grim And Determined. I Tried Not To Feel Like This Was The Last Time I'd Ever See Them All Together. 'you're The Greatest Heroes Of This Millennium,' I Told Them. 'it Doesn't Matter How Many Monsters Come At You. Fight Bravely, And We Will Win.' I Raised Riptide And Shouted, 'for Olympus!' They Shouted In Response, And Our Forty Voices Echoed Off The Buildings Of Midtown.

If You've Seen A Crab's Mouth, All Foamy And Gross With Whiskers And Snapping Bits, You Can Imagine This One Didn't Look Any Better Blown Up To Billboard Size.