"THE BIRD WHO COULDN'T FLY"
I might be forgiven for thinking when I rounded up my first collection of essays in 2008 and called it Running with Stilettos, that it was my very first book. As far as I knew, my maiden voyage into self-publishing was the very first time I'd done something with the concept of "book" in the process. Blogging had been the first big tech hurdle for me to scale.
HOWEVER...my basement still contains some mystery boxes that have followed me through the decades. And when I was excavating one of them recently, I came across a children's book I had penned and illustrated for an assignment in French class at Immaculata High School in Chicago. I think in the publishing world, this is what's known as "the lost manuscript"!!
I had completely forgotten about it until then, but as I turned the pages I laughed with delight! I really loved going to Immaculata, and loved French class, and remember that "Mrs. Boushay" was our young and enthusiastic French teacher who made learning this foreign language a lot of fun. I only got to attend Immaculata for a couple of years, but I still have quite fond memories. Unfortunately, in the intervening life, I've forgotten all that French, and so the current translation services are now courtesy of Google!!
Given that this little "book" is only twelve pages long, I'm not going to publish it on Amazon!! But still, Mrs. Boushay DID suggest that I publish it when she graded it! So I'd like to share it and the notion that sometimes, what we liked to do as children turns out to be what we still like to do fifty years later. And as I read this in light of my Finnigan the Circus Cat books, I am STILL such a sucker for the little underdog who finds his courage and rises to the occasion!
I might be forgiven for thinking when I rounded up my first collection of essays in 2008 and called it Running with Stilettos, that it was my very first book. As far as I knew, my maiden voyage into self-publishing was the very first time I'd done something with the concept of "book" in the process. Blogging had been the first big tech hurdle for me to scale.
HOWEVER...my basement still contains some mystery boxes that have followed me through the decades. And when I was excavating one of them recently, I came across a children's book I had penned and illustrated for an assignment in French class at Immaculata High School in Chicago. I think in the publishing world, this is what's known as "the lost manuscript"!!
I had completely forgotten about it until then, but as I turned the pages I laughed with delight! I really loved going to Immaculata, and loved French class, and remember that "Mrs. Boushay" was our young and enthusiastic French teacher who made learning this foreign language a lot of fun. I only got to attend Immaculata for a couple of years, but I still have quite fond memories. Unfortunately, in the intervening life, I've forgotten all that French, and so the current translation services are now courtesy of Google!!
Given that this little "book" is only twelve pages long, I'm not going to publish it on Amazon!! But still, Mrs. Boushay DID suggest that I publish it when she graded it! So I'd like to share it and the notion that sometimes, what we liked to do as children turns out to be what we still like to do fifty years later. And as I read this in light of my Finnigan the Circus Cat books, I am STILL such a sucker for the little underdog who finds his courage and rises to the occasion!
Once upon a time there was a forest, and in the forest lived a little crow chick. He was pretty, and downy, and very nice, but he couldn't fly because he was afraid.
A bird with a fear of heights? Nobody had ever heard something like that! His parents themselves could fly, as well as his brothers and sister, but poor Zephyr would always refuse to try it.
Really, the only way for him to get down from the tree was for a nice, old squirrel to carry him on his back. Therefore, he usually stayed in the nest.
His mother would bring him his lunches and dinners, because he could not fly and the worms would listen to his noise and hide themselves.
Summer was passing quickly, and autumn was approaching. It was the season for the birds to fly south.
His mother cried and his father threatened, but to no avail. So they left him in the forest to live with the squirrel who had lived in their tree.
Zephyr grew during the winter, and his wings became strong. As spring approached, the squirrel had stopped hibernating and begun to forage.
One day, however, he was seen by a naughty little eagle who had been starving for a long time. During the following days, the eagle would observe the squirrel, its habits, and its companion, the crow which never flew.
So, one day he made his attack, and grabbed the squirrel with his talons, flying higher and higher.
But what's this? Zephyr was flying and he was attacking the eagle! For once he didn't think about himself and his fear. He knew he had to save his friend.
The mean bird perceived that he was outnumbered and fled, dropping the squirrel, who landed in a pile of snow.
But where had Zephyr gone? If one would look at the sky, we would see him soaring and gliding with a happy heart.
"Goodbye," he shouted to his forest friends. "I'm going south to visit my family and celebrate, but I will return!"
"Goodbye," he shouted to his forest friends. "I'm going south to visit my family and celebrate, but I will return!"
"You are an artist, Mary Therese. The grammar--very good. PUBLISH!!
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