You know what they say: Never judge a book by its cover. Well, I decided to read The Day My Mother Left, by James Prosek, because I loved the cover. It pictures two birds, a scarlet tanager and a yellow warbler. The carefully rendered drawings were clearly done by a kid--James Prosek himself, it turns out, when he was 10 or 11 years old.

I really like birds, but in this book, I found something better--a wonderful, sad, very real story about a boy. (I like boys, too.) This is a novel, but it is based on the author's own life. It’s about this kid named Jeremy, whose mother leaves his father, his teenage sister, and him when he is 9. Having your mom walk out on your family without warning is hard enough, but Jeremy's mom runs off with the father of his most hated enemy, the 5th grade bully. In the sickening weeks and months that follow, Jeremy waits for his mother to return, but she doesn't. He waits for a phone call, or a letter; a birthday present or a Christmas present. Nothing.

Jeremy's dad is totally absorbed in his own depression. Jeremy's sister stays away from home as much as possible. In his aloneness, the boy turns to the solace of nature, where he finds his own strengths and a talent for drawing.

This is not a sappy book, there's no blubbering self-pity or tiresome angst. The prose is clean and honest, and the illustrations--etchings of birds, both alive and dead--have the same qualities. This is a story about the terrible things that parents sometimes do to the children they love; and the amazing resilience that kids can show in spite of it all. It's a really good story. I give it 3 and a half WORDs out of 4.

WORD WORD WORD WO

Dik Sun
- by Shelley Susan Bartolazzi, Grade 10

Dik Sun set upon the banks of a raging river,
Mountains on the horizon wearing their white snow caps shiver,
Ranchers aplenty made it their home,
In the prairies surrounding do their cattle and sheep roam,
Some call it home, some call it the last of the west,
Whatever you want to call it, Dik Sun is a just right place to rest,
It's a country town, always calm and laid back,
In winter the roads are snow packed,
In summer the roads are coated with dust,
But by far it's the simplest!

Have you always wanted to write a children's story and to see it published? Well, here's your chance. There's a nifty contest out there that you can enter. Sponsored by the bank ING Direct, the "Adventures in Savings" contest is open to aspiring writers ages 6 to adult.

The Task: Write a children's story for 4-7 year olds that teaches kids a lesson about responsible money management (earning, spending, saving, investing, etc.).
Categories: You can enter your story in one of three categories, depending on your age: 6-12 years old, 13-19 years old, and 20+ years old.
The Prize:    Three prize-winning stories will be published and illustrated, and the winners will each receive an ING Direct Savings account with $1000.
Deadline:    June 30, 2007

Find out more about the contest rules and requirements, and submit your story here.

ING Direct also has a pretty cool site that allows you to travel to places such as Moneyland, South Spending, the Republic of Savings, and Investor Islands -- and tackle topics that range from the value of money, to setting a budget, understanding credit, and building savings goals for the future. Now that's something I think all of us could use -- a little bit of help setting up a budget!

If you want some inspiration to get started with your story, here are some neat children's stories about money:

• The Ant and the Grasshopper, from Aesop's Fables
• Daddy John's Debt
• Noom and Raj Start a Business: The Abc's of Money

In the February 9th issue of READ (yes, it was a while ago, our apologies), we presented an adapted version of William Shakespeare's classic play, Romeo and Juliet. At the end of the Readers' Theater play, we asked you to write a story that explains how the Montague/Capulet feud originally began. Although we received many great submissions, here are our two favorites.

Two Artists
-By Hunter Windham

Once upon a time, four generations before that of Romeo's, in the very same streets yet a completely different terrain, stooped an old man. The man lingered by a lake during the same hour every day. He admired his surroundings to the point where walking the landscape blindfolded would not have been a problem. He walked around the trees and then around a cove of the great lake. Eventually his daily exploration always led him to the opposite side of the lake. And there he sat.

An artist approached the solitude of this fine gentleman. Armed with pastels and charcoals, he saw a passion in the old man and decided to capture it on his canvas. Every shadow, every leaf, and even every wrinkle in the cloth the old man wore, right down to the peaceful grin on his face was painted by the artist. The old man sat for him for hours.

During this time, another artist happened to be roaming though the area, his thoughts tended to be the same. He too was armed his creative weapons: oils and a charcoal pencil took hold of the bold framework as he attempted to capture it on his canvas. The tall trees sat thick and broad, the hills smooth, the leaves delicate, the old man looked soft... yet strong. And time passed.

As shapes formed and colors blended, the occupation of each artist on the shore that day became relevant. The second artist proceeded to the canvas of the first to know his progress. And the first did the same. They began to discuss art with an air of arrogance. The second artist tried to add to a line on the first artist's canvas. The first artist responded with great anger! He proceeded to throw a black blotch of ink onto his neighbor's work. Soon, it became an all out "save your painting" war, splashes of paint and charcoal rocks were in the air.

In all of this hustle the old man became enraged by this disturbance and up and left. Moments later the two artists found themselves laying in a mess of expensive and extensive color. Both painters found themselves mourning over the destruction of their work. A truce was made and they began to pick up their mess. They said their apologies, shook hands and went their separate way with supplies under arm.

Being that these two artists were the only two men of their profession left in all of Verona, they both received angry letters from their employers announcing that their paintings were overdue. They both immediately ran to meet their boss. When they arrived, they met each other again. They had not known that they were both working for the same man! Each artist tried to explain his case, but it was no use. The boss fired them both. A shared, bitter rage fell into silence as the two artists walked sadly away.

The two artists went on to lead successful lives outside of their painting careers. But they always held a love for art in their hearts, as well as a deep hate for the other man. Their names were Montague and Capulet. ... But that is a different story.

Don't you just hate it when your favorite literary blog is dead silent for days and days? I do.

Check back in later today. We'll be here, broadcasting from fair Verona...

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Shakespearian mysteries will be revealed... today, on WORD.

No doubt.