(My friends know I am never without my little lobster bag.)
Johnny's mother noticed my bag and said her son had enjoyed those books. I told her I'd written them, so she introduced me to her son whom, she said, was already a big Splurch fan. Later I sent this young man some Splurch tattoos and stickers, and told him that I'd be happy to visit his school. His teacher jumped right on it, and soon we'd scheduled a visit.
Johnny keeps a creative writing blog at Fenn (can I just pause to note how great that is?). His teacher shared with me the poem he wrote on his blog about my impending visit. With Johnny's parents' permission, I'm sharing his poem below:
She's Coming, by John
What should I do what should I do
He's coming, I mean she's coming, she's really coming
I read the book and now I'm going to have lunch with her what will it be pasta, salad, cow breast soup what if she doesn't like it she might get mad
and destroy the world she might kill zeus what should I do
what should I do
****
I showed this to my husband whose immediate response was, "No wonder he likes your books."
I loved this poem. I like the nutty kind of brilliant creativity that inspired it. Personally, I'm fond of an epic struggle in my poetry when I can get it, and if it pits me against the king of the gods, all the better. World? You're goin' down. Cow breast soup? Titans have clashed for less.
So be forewarned, all ye Olympian gods and Fenn kitchen chefs: behold, I come quickly, trailing destruction in my wake. Feed me worthy victuals lest I smite you with the rod of my wrath. Kids, line up after class for stickers and washable tattoos. They're buried somewhere here in my lobster totebag.
P.S.: For some actual footage of author visits where no carnage took place, visit my YouTube channel.
What should I do what should I do
He's coming, I mean she's coming, she's really coming
I read the book and now I'm going to have lunch with her what will it be pasta, salad, cow breast soup what if she doesn't like it she might get mad
and destroy the world she might kill zeus what should I do
what should I do
****
I showed this to my husband whose immediate response was, "No wonder he likes your books."
I loved this poem. I like the nutty kind of brilliant creativity that inspired it. Personally, I'm fond of an epic struggle in my poetry when I can get it, and if it pits me against the king of the gods, all the better. World? You're goin' down. Cow breast soup? Titans have clashed for less.
So be forewarned, all ye Olympian gods and Fenn kitchen chefs: behold, I come quickly, trailing destruction in my wake. Feed me worthy victuals lest I smite you with the rod of my wrath. Kids, line up after class for stickers and washable tattoos. They're buried somewhere here in my lobster totebag.
