1. The Blank Page THE BLANK PAGE Okay, here we go. What I've been waiting for, the chance to share my story. Not just the random bits I've been writing in my head, or scribbling on notepads, but the whole thing, from the absolute beginning. I mean, I guess from the absolute beginning. Because... what exactly is the absolute beginning? The day Aster is born? Or runs away from home? Or first spies the one-toed Beast that's tracking her every move? But so much happens before all that, and it's stuff I should probably explain in the first chapter. Seriously, if you don't know about the Defectors, or Oleander the Witch, or how Aster's big sister is basically kidnapped, nothing in the plot will make any sense. And this story gets incredibly complicated, although in a good way. Really, there's so much action, it could be a whole series! I wonder if Ms. Bowman would let me keep writing. I bet she would, once she sees how much there is to tell, because she's the kind of teacher who lets you actually create . Unlike Mr. Delgado last year, who made us write five-paragraph essays on topics like Why Kids Need Limits on Screen Time. I mean literally-- five paragraphs , not four or six. Once I actually wrote seven paragraphs and he made me smoosh them together so that I had exactly five. It's amazing I survived sixth grade without my brain leaking out my ears. And now Ms. Bowman is smiling in my direction. Making eye contact and nodding like, Go ahead, Lyla. Why don't you start writing? I smile back at her like, No problem! Here I go! Writing my story! Seriously, Ms. Bowman is the coolest teacher in the entire school, even if she thought my sister, Dahlia, was a genius. But I don't hold it against her, because teachers always think Dahlia is a genius. It's what my parents think too. And of course Dahlia agrees with all of them. Anyway. I click the top of my favorite gel pen: blue ink, extra-fine tip, not too clunky in my hand. When Ms. Bowman told us about daily writing, some kids said they could write only on their laptops. Ms. Bowman said she'd like us to begin our stories in spiral notebooks, although later on we can switch to tablets or computers, if we want. But I don't think I will, at least not until I have a first draft. I like to feel a pen in my hand, and see my handwriting on the paper. It just seems, I don't know, more personal somehow. And the thought that soon, in maybe just a few weeks, this empty notebook will be completely filled-- every page, every line--makes me feel like dancing. Of course I stay in my seat, but it's hard to stop smiling. Not that you need to suffer to write a story! I mean, that's such a cliché, right? Why can't writing just make you happy? In front of me, Stella Ramirez is using a pencil, and so is Noah Hennessey on my right. Stella's pencil is one of those fancy mechanical ones, but Noah's is a nub, barely big enough to grip. I watch them both hunch over their desks, doing two different kinds of hunching. Stella sits like she's taking a test, and doesn't want anyone copying her answers. Noah is hunched like he's already given up, even though we're just getting started. Poor Noah--he looks so miserable. In math class he knows all the answers, so I bet he likes numbers better than words. I'm the total opposite: if I could do nothing all day long except reading and writing, I'd be the happiest human on the planet! CHAPTER ONE This story will have lots of chapters, so they'll definitely need numbers. I wonder how many there'll be by the last page of this notebook, because it's going to be extremely long. Way longer than five paragraphs--so DO NOT READ THIS, Mr. Delgado! Nothing to see here, hahaha! Although later on I might give the chapters titles instead of numbers. Possibly. I haven't decided--but that's okay, because there's plenty of time to think about things like that. We're going to be working on this writing project for the next few weeks, Ms. Bowman says. Every day, for at least a few minutes! Woohoo! Seriously, Ms. Bowman is like the Best Teacher Ever. I can barely wait to see her reaction when she reads this! When I'm ready to show it to her, I mean. Oh no. Wait, stop! Why is my hand all blue? Is that ink ? Oh crap, my pen is leaking! Gross! Just as I was getting started! I'd better go wash up in the bathroom. Even if the period is basically over now, and I won't have time to do any writing. Excerpted from Unstuck by Barbara Dee All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
