so, I was digging around in my old notebooks, trying to find one that was reasonably empty, and I found this story I wrote when I was about eight. I decided to type it up. its only like the first chapter, but tell if you think that it was good. I always wondered, my mom said it was good, but I'm not sure if she actually meant it, or was just trying to be nice.
The gohst was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, again. I had told him a thousand times that when he made himself a peanut butter jelly sandwich in the middle of the night he made a huge racket which was, as you can imagine, not helpful when I was trying to go to sleep. I also told him that the sticky places where he had dropped jelly drove my mom, dad, and me crazy! and here he was with a sandwich which oozed grape jelly and peanut butter clamped in his transparent hands.
"I thought I told you not to make yourself sandwiches in the middle of the night." I said. He looked at me with pleading eyes. "but Katherine..."
"I was huuuungry." he whined. geez! he was always hungry.
"this is the third time this week we have had this conversation!"
thats all I can manage to type up now.
if I get enough votes yes, I will type up more later.