Monday, January 12, 2009

Switching Chocolates

I wrote a new story and I would love for you to read it. Here's the first two paragraphs. If you want to read the rest just let me know and I'll send it to you by email.

Switching Chocolates

Cayden could still feel the cold seat through his pants. When his dad first bought the Ford Expedition Cayden complained about how the seats were always cold in the winter. Why couldn’t it have regular cloth seats like their Suburban used to have? And in the summer the seats were always hot. Especially after shopping at Walmart, where there was never any shade to park in. But Cayden didn’t complain about the seats anymore. It never did any good- just made Dad ornery. And the drive to Grandma Peterson’s house was too long for Dad to be ornery this soon. So Cayden didn’t say anything about the cold seats. They’d get warm soon enough anyway.

By the time they were on the freeway Cayden had gone over his plan three times. It was a good plan and it would work- even better than his April fools joke when he tricked Mom into thinking that McKenzie had gotten detention. And he couldn’t wait to see what everyone did when he told them what he had done. They’d finally realize how dumb they all were for getting so excited about Grandma’s chocolates.


Timothy Young said...

And no, I do not think Lorie's chocolates aren't any better than store-bought. For those who might have been wondering.

Kayli said...

I want to read this rest.

p.s. good thing you put in your disclaimer, just so things stay friendly. :)

p.s. again - do you read blogs a lot?

Kayli said...

This is unrelated to your post, but do you have a favorite poem or poems?

Timothy Young said...


I was reading lots of blogs for while. But when I got really gung-ho on our basement I kind of let the blogosphere fall by the wayside. I think I'll be doing a little more with it now. I did see the pictures of your pirate costumes. And the hat you made- very impressive.

I think that somewhere in my soul I'm harboring a latent resentment toward poetry because of all the crud that overzealous English teachers made me read in school.

There have been poems that I've heard or read in the intervening years that I enjoyed. But I haven't made an effort to keep track of them.

Beowulf is a poem, right? I like that. And I saw one in the back of our Book of Mormon Heroes book yesterday during sacrament meeting that I liked. It was about stick-to-it-iveness. But no, I really don't have one that I call my favorite.

Kami said...

I want to read it. Would you email it to me please?