As I've mentioned, I've been writing since I was a kid. In fact, I can remember sitting at the dining room table, shouting at my mom asking how to spell words like "lemonade" or "everybody."
One book I remember writing, illustrating, and producing was called "The Cat." I'm pretty sure my mom still has it in the basement somewhere. Recently, my mom sent me one book I had written. I'm thinking it's 25ish years old and I can vaguely remember when I wrote and illustrated it at that very dining room table. It's called "Misty." (I'm sure that name was inspired by the "Misty of Chincoteague" books. Those were some of my favorites growing up.)
So, without further ado, here's the cover of this epic tale:
One book I remember writing, illustrating, and producing was called "The Cat." I'm pretty sure my mom still has it in the basement somewhere. Recently, my mom sent me one book I had written. I'm thinking it's 25ish years old and I can vaguely remember when I wrote and illustrated it at that very dining room table. It's called "Misty." (I'm sure that name was inspired by the "Misty of Chincoteague" books. Those were some of my favorites growing up.)
So, without further ado, here's the cover of this epic tale:
An absolute masterpiece.
Now, on to page 1.
Now, on to page 1.
Misty was a white houres [sic] with black spotts [sic]. Evreybody [sic] calls her Misty because she sores [sic] with the wind and because she blends in with it, you could baley [sic] see her. She is like a vishon [sic].
One day they were having a horse race. Misty was up to the chalingn [sic]. She never could miss a horse race.
On Wensday [sic] the race was on. Know [sic] one saw Misty. All the sudden Evreyone [sic] herd [sic] a thud! It was Misty! She was hurt! Evreyone [sic] stoped [sic] even the horses.
Misty hurt her leg, at lest [sic] she did not break it. She had to stay in the barn. Misty never got hurt in a race before.
Misty felt better after a wile [sic] but she only could walk. Soon she could run but she could not run fast. She was feeling much better. She had to get better.
The next day there was a race. Misty ran the race this time she did not fall down, insted [sic] she won! She won the race!
Soon evreybody [sic] was betting for Misty to win the races. Evreybody [sic] won so much money. [This part cracks me up!]
Soon the big race came. Misty was up to it. She was ready to win the big race. One hundred horses were there even more.
Misty was running so fast she did not know what would happen next. She was getting coseer [sic] to the finnesh [sic] line.
Misty won the race! She won the golden metle [sic] on a string. She looked so pretty she looked like art. She was the happiest horse.
THE END
And that's that. I hope you enjoyed my little story of the race horse, determined to win every race more than anything. It could probably use a little bit more character development, more world building and backstory, but it's a charming little tale of overcoming all the odds.
And check out the quality of the cover. Made from a mix of construction paper, red wrapping paper, notebook paper, Scotch tape, thread, and staples, no wonder it's survived all these years!
And check out the quality of the cover. Made from a mix of construction paper, red wrapping paper, notebook paper, Scotch tape, thread, and staples, no wonder it's survived all these years!
