When I was in grade four, I was enchanted with the world of politics, and thus did what any grade four student would do: wrote a book. I'm sure I've mentioned it many times before. And now I have for you, a world premiere preview of my debut novel, along with my present day witty commentary about how terrible it is.
"For Monday's field trip, dress suitably, because as I promised, we will see all the Political Parties."
And that's just the first line.
She's into ghosts and UFO's that kind of stuff. She is pretty much like the caretaker of the group.
Like, totally.
Abby Marshall, the hockey fan has glasses…
Ignoring the absent comma, this is quite a funny description. I never realized how totally Canadian I sounded. In any other book, the girl might be a baseball fan or soccer fan, but hockey? You don't get many of those. Except in Canada. But I guess since it is about Canadian politics, it's good that I (albeit unknowingly) went and included some Canadian culture as well. Damn, they could be reading this book in Mr. Skinner's class one day, what with all the "Canadian content"!
Molly Margaret has very short brown hair and blue eyes. She loves animals and she loves to draw them and everything else.
And what, make love to them? At least it's better than "she loves to draw them and stuff", but it was obviously a cop-out because I hated writing those descriptions.
At the end of the Politics unit, the class was going to present a play to the grade fours that would be doing it the next year. The play was about voting. They would show them who the heads of each party and other things like that.
Ooh-wee! A voting play! Whop-dee-freakin'-doo! And uh, I think the grade fours are a bit young to be doing it.
This sentence is also awful because it's too real. I think it's understood that there is going to be another grade five class next year that's going to learn grade five things, so I don't have to say it. It adds nothing to the story and kind of makes you wonder "hmm, will this information be pertinent to the solving of the crime later?". But knowing me at that age, and knowing how this story turns out, no. It is not. Nor was I clever enough to purposely insert red herrings.
Abby's friends were told to make the [sign] that said ‘Martin Haley’ to say something different because you might not know if it were for him or against. (It was for him.)
Durrrrr…
She changed it so that it said: Go Martin Haley! Abby said it was easier to just add ‘go’ than to start a new sign.
And by "go Martin Haley" do you mean "go home"? Am I getting this right?
Martin Haley, by the way, was formerly the present premier of Ontario at the time of writing, and this story is overwhelmingly in his favour. Holy enough influence by my parents, batman. I, of course, didn't know what anybody stood for, I just knew my parents were conservative, so that must be the right choice.
“How are we going to get to Nicole’s sleepover? Walking or are we getting a drive?” Jerri asks.
Oh god. This is embarrassing because Jerri was supposed to be me and this is just like something I would say. What time? Where? How long? How do we get there? How do we get back? How do you sleep at night? But again, this conversation is too real and not "movie magical" enough. People don't go through stupid conversations like this in movies unless it's necessary to the plot to know that they're taking Molly's jet airplane which then goes through an electrical storm that transfers them to the Twilight Zone!
“And Mr. Haley is not cutting taxes as he said. He is a lair!” cried Danny Mathews on the downstairs television at Nicole’s house while the girls were eating chips and Pepsi (or Sprite, if you are Lauren).
Spelling mistake FTW! And little girls watching a debate on TV FTW! And lame attempt to be funny by adding unnecessary detail FTW!
And that product placement is totally unrealistic, because Sprite is a Coke product, and Pepsi and Sprite would never be seen together.
And for those of you wondering who Mr. DM is, if you're up on current Canadian politics, he's still around here somewhere. Go on, 'ave a guess.
“I dare Nicole to call the number on the screen and say you want to vote for Haley!” challenged Abby.
“1-800-555-8683,” Nicole muttered as she dialed. “Hello, yes, I would like to vote for Martin Haley… Toronto riding… Okay, thanks bye!”
The girls al laugh, as Nicole was the only one who could have said that without giggling.
“I can’t believe I just did that…” Ring! The phone cut Nicole off. “Hello,” she said as everyone leaned in to hear.
“Don’t doubt Danny. DON’T!” said the voice and hung up.
Oh, geez. What a lame dare. It should've been like:
“I dare Nicole to call in and vote…” challenged Abby.
“Pfft, easy-schmeasy!” Nicole said, tossing her hair back. “Give me the phone.”
“…for Danny Matthews!” Abby finished.
The other girls gasped.
“What?” Nicole cried, “no way!”
“Oh, come on, that's a mean dare!” protested Molly.
“Uh uh uh, she has to do it; it's a daaare,” Lauren taunted.
Nicole glared at Abby. “Uh! I can't believe you're making me vote for that… that… rat!” she said with disgust.
The other girls giggled.
Oh god. Oh god! I just made one sentence into like… ten! You see, folks, that's what seven more years of English class does to you. And while the necessary information was contained in that one original sentence, this way is much more dramatic and movie-realistic. Plus word count is way up, so I can set the margins back to normal and stop using Courier New.
“Someone added a page to my website. It says ‘Don’t Doubt Danny!’”
Ah, this is so perfect. Unrealistic computer events? All completely plausible in the movie world! Of course, technically this could have happened, because Nicole did just open an email attachment. But considering that the email was sent by (spoiler alert!) the "mean girls" at their school, I really don't think they know how to write a program that would do that.
“Umm- Hi- Martin… I mean, Mr. Haley.” stuttered Molly.
"Oh, umm, hi, Bobby… I mean… Robert Plant…" giggled Jenny.
What the hell is this? This is not Pierre Trudeau. This is Mike Harris Martin Haley, for chrissakes! Little girls do not go "ooh" and "aww" and "omgwillumarryme?lessthanthree" at old politicians.
Oh, and by the way, they aren't even on the field trip yet. Molly's mother just happens to know Martin Haley (her daughter's idol, and she's never thought to mention it before?). Plus, this whole passage was awkwardly written because I'm getting a sense that there is something going on between Molly's mom and Martin, and that is just wrong.
Well, maybe I was a little smarter than I give myself credit for — he is a politician after all. Maybe I was setting this up for some big scandal later on.
“Mr. Haley, are you really going to cut taxes?” asked Dana.
Mr. Haley laughed as everyone started to ask campaign questions. “You kids are really informed I see. I’m glad I won’t be running when you’re all old enough to vote. Keep on studying and maybe I see one of you in parliament one day.”
For once, here is a bloody good piece of writing. I could write a fucking politician and I could write him well. That is gold. I was going to try to expand on this, but I just can't top it. I give myself one internets.
“Let’s try the next door,” whispered Dana with a panicky voice.
“AHHHH!!!!”
“Oopsie-daisy!”
“Uhh, sorry,” Lauren said to the man as he came out of the bathroom. “Wrong room.” The guy pushed past her.
“Nice guy,” said Nicole sarcastically.
I know I didn't put any red herrings in this story, but I can't help but wonder who this guy is. He has to be somebody, considering he's all pushy and evil. He probably should have been Dalton Danny Matthews, but I don't think I was smart enough to do that, or drop any hints that it was him, or be subtle enough to think the reader would assume it was him.
“Hey what are you kids doing here?” a man in the back [of the limo] asked.
“Could it be?”
“MARTIN HALEY!”
“You have got to give us a ride!”
“Yeah we missed our bus and-”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. You missed your bus?” inquired Martin Haley.
“Yeah, for school and we were wondering if…” started Molly.
“I could give you a ride? Sure! Hop in!” he finished.
"But smile for a photo-op first!"
“Are you all right?” someone shrieked.
“Hurry, call an ambulance!” yelled someone else.
“It’s all right, they’re coming!” replied Martin stepping out of the car.
‘Wooo-ooh, wooo-ooh, whoo-ooh!’ came the ambulance.
Onomatopoeia FTL.
“What is it?” she asks. Silently, Jerri hands her the paper. “Not again!” she says. “Maybe we should show Mrs. Crescent…”
“No, let’s just pretend it’s nothing. We don’t want a lot of people involved.”
You know, while all-in-all I was a terrible writer, I did know how to write movie-realistically. Receive a threatening note? It's best not to tell anyone. Go to the police? Who does that?
[the class are making collages]
“What is your subject going to be?” Molly asked Dana.
“Plants and trees and flowers and stuff,” she said* * * * *
Dun dun dun? What the hell kind of cliff-hanger is that?
“What kind of note?” Jerri asked.
“Hello! Where have you been the past few weeks? A ‘Don’t Doubt Danny’ note!” Dana exclaimed.
Yeah, Jenny Jerri, dumbass.