Word Count: 41,000
Pitch: If twelve-year-old Jake Evans doesn’t advance in the spelling bee, he’ll fail Language Arts and his dream of pitching in the little league world series will be over. The problem – Jake can’t spell.
If my main character were an easter egg, what flavor would he/she be and why? "Oreo - I always get an Oreo milkshake at Ruby's after a big win!"
Harrison Templeton has a big fat head. But it's a good thing. When I slouch in my seat behind him in seventh period Language Arts, Mrs. Cooper can't see me. At least, I don't think she can.
Today I scrunch so low my butt is off the chair.
My right knee bounces with each passing second - thirty minutes and counting until the first practice. I've been waiting for-freaking-ever for this day. Or eight months, which might as well be eons.
We have a shot at making it all the way to the Little League World Series this year. That would be the most awesome thing ever. Well, not as awesome as A Rod showing up at my house. But still super cool.
I peer two inches to the right, around Harrison's watermelon head. His hair is sticking straight out on one side, like he battled with the hair gel and lost.
"Can anyone tell me from what point of view the Red Badge of Courage is written?" Mrs. Cooper asks, pacing in front of the white board wielding a dry erase marker like a bayonet.
I don’t understand why we can’t read something cool. Like The Boy Who Saved Baseball. Heck, I kind of even liked Holes. All this talk of themes and symbolism makes me want to poke my eye out with my number two pencil.
Like the stealth bomber, I duck out of her line of sight. She's been droning on the entire class period about the book. She's going to call on someone to read out loud soon. And it better not be me. I hate reading out loud. I see the words, then they jumble up like a puzzle when I try to read them.
They come out of my mouth all wrong. That's when the laughing usually starts.