Saturday, July 21, 2007


I remember saying to my mom "I want to make my own book." She got me the tools necessary and I sat down to write the perfect bed-time book. This was going to be amazing! Everything I would want in a story because I'm going to write it.

"The WilDerness chicken"

There owns livd a group of 10 toe toes and a chicken for a green enemy.

SuDdenly some trees moovd. It was the green heded chicken.

so they ran away from the fast so one got squashed from him. there was a bomb

First things first. My mother drew the chicken on the first page. I think that's obvious when you compare it to my attempt at drawing 10 toe toes. You can also make out my attempt at drawing a chicken.

On the second page you can see how I tried to copy my mother's chicken. It's crashing through the trees, approaching to eat the 10 toe toes.

The last page clearly says "I've had enough of this book writing. I'm tired of this. How can I finish it quickly? A BOMB! That ought'a wrap this story up good and quick!" I only wish I drew a picture of the bomb blowing the chicken up! Hey! I'm still me! I still can't draw! I'm going to finally put the finishing touches on this masterpiece! Hold on a second!

THERE! HERE! Again, I had to copy my mother's chicken.

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