It's that time of year again! No, not when you should start getting your Halloween costume before all the good ones are sold out and you're stuck being the guy with the funny nose and mustache attached to your glasses ... again. (Although, yeah, you probably should start getting your Halloween costume before all the good ones are sold out.) It's Teen Read Week!

Every year, the Young Adult Library Services Association (YALSA--like salsa, just not as yummy) urges teens to, well, read. This year, YALSA's theme is LOL @ the Library.

I know I love to LOL, especially when I'm reading. Don't you? Sure you do. And what better place to do it than the library. (As long as you're not laughing too loudly--it is a library after all, and you don't want to be shushed!)

Not that you guys need an excuse to read, because I know you are all constantly reading and writing. But it's kind of nice to have an official reason to saddle up to a good book in the library. So, what are some of your favorite humorous books?

Well anyway, if you'd like to participate in the official Teen Read Week, you better hurry off to the library because it runs from October 14-20. (I know, I know. Bad WORD bloggers! We should have told you sooner. Sorry, we were just so excited about our awesome 1,000 word writers that we just plum forgot.) But there's always time for reading!

Are you still waiting around? Get yourself to the library and read!

Many thanks to the students of Ms. Runyan's 8th grade class from Atlantic Middle School in Iowa. They sent in their very fabulous and creative poems based on the following picture. Writing magazine published the photo as part of its September 1,000 Words feature. Great job!

Nothing Left
Touching the sun,
Feeling like you're controlling the world,
But it's all backwards.
Black is white,
White is black.
Nothing seems the same.
You’ll never feel the same,
You won't feel like anything is working.
Nothing works,
But yet it all works,
And you just don't know it yet.

--Derek Von Seggern

What?
God,
Is that you?
Is that the star the angels sent down?
Are you sending a message?
Why are you playing with my mind?
Is this a sign?
God, who are you trying to attract?
Am I messed up?
Am I just crazy?
Is this the end of the world?
Whom am I kidding?
I’m just a teenager from earth
Without a darn clue.

--Anthony Robinson

Phenomena
The eclipse so high,
Just hanging in the sky.
Trying to capture its strength,
For as long as its length.
Changing the world,
If only for a moment.
Making white look like black,
But in minutes its back.
Taking your hand from the sky,
As the world passes by
When you came inside
The outside world died.
You get back to your job,
As your heart starts to throb.
The phenomenon was forgotten.

—Paige Kennon

The Black Diamond
The white hand glows bright.
The black diamond burns all night.
They join day and night.

--Malachi Wickman

 

The Dark World
There was a young lad,
Who indeed was very sad.
The world was so dark and cruel,
And that my friend is not cool.
The boy wanted some color back,
In the town that was certainly whack.
After many years,
And many tears,
The color was back,
And that ...
Is that.

--Sara Forster

Seeking the Darkness
Looking up at the evening sky,
I thought I saw it way up high.
The darkness swallowing up the sun,
As though the light had been shunned.
It was frightening there at first,
But soon I had such an insatiable thirst!
The thirst for darkness, to disappear,
Away from the light, there was nothing to fear.
I wondered vaguely, maybe if,
I could reach there, up there,
To make it shift.
So that I wouldn't be so tempted to feel,
That black darkness touch,
That shrouds like a veil.
So engrossed in my thoughts was I,
I did not take heed of those clouds in the sky,
They poured their black raindrops in their wake,
So that the ground below me seemed of a lake.
But this lake was dark, fearsome and swift,
But I soon felt that it was a gift.
I wanted to jump, to fall through the dark,
To reach the inner depths of the black water’s heart.
I must step back, away I must race!
But of course, the darkness held me in place.
Against such beauty, all reasoning is gone,
My twilight kingdom, I've waited so long.
You held out your arms to welcome me,
Here I must stay, I could never leave.
And when I reached for that cold embrace,
I felt the darkness enveloping my face.
My eyes and hair turned midnight black,
My skin so cold not a diamond could crack.
Quite suddenly the sky shone a white light,
Bright as the gods, to banish the night.
Angelic figures descended the skies.
The heavenly fighters shining up high.
A battle cry tore from my lips,
I drew the sword that hung at my hips.
I leaped in the air to fight my light foes.
We fought for an eternity,
Despite my everlasting woes.
At last the sky was black and cold,
I was left standing in battle throes.
I smirked heavily when the twilight,
As brave as it be,
Looked as one surprised might,
And welcomed me.
But forever deep down,
In my sorrowful heart,
I knew that light wore a crown,
Just like the dark.
And evermore, even after the world's ended.
Light and darkness shall always be contended.
But I would fight,
I would not take flight.
Just like those of you,

Who battle for light.

--Mistery Fleagle

Being October, there's really only one thing worth talking about, and that is postseason baseball. However, being that the Yankees choked for like the third year in a row, I really don't have much to say. Grr.

The Red Sox are currently tied in the bottom of the 9th against the Indians in Game 2 of the American League Championship series. I say, Grr again, sir. The only reason for me to watch is with a hope that they do not make it to the World Series. But I digress...

The point of this bloggy (or at least the point we try to make) has not a whole lot to do with sports and everything to do with reading; which is why, at this late hour I am reminded of last night's game, and of Mr. Stephen King.

King was at the game last night. He's a die hard Boston Red Sox fan. But for some odd reason, he wasn't paying much attention to the action on the field. During the 4th inning, his team had the bases loaded. Everyone at Fenway was on their feet cheering, thumping, eager for a hit. Everyone, that is, save for King. You see, King was reading. That, my friends, is devotion to the written word.

The odd moment was captured by the video cameras and a broadcaster subsequently, went into the stands and interviewed King. It turns out that he was reading a book called The Ghost, by Robert Harris. The book isn't even out yet. However, King was devouring it while the Red Sox continued to plow their way toward a win (Boston took Game 1 by a score of 10-3, Grr).

What does all this mean? Is it any wonder King likes to read? Come on. Be serious. Anyone who has woven 5 sentences together to tell a story knows that the more you read, the better your writing becomes. And the Master of Horror probably knows it better than anyone.

There has been some talk already about King's devotion to the Red Sox (or lack thereof). I don't put much stock in it. The man is obviously a huge fan. But he's also a bibliophile. He's addicted to words as much as he is to baseball. Personally, I think it's cool that he can marry his two passions. Granted, the whole scene could have just been a setup to promote Harris's book. So what? When's the last time you saw a television advertisement for a book anyway? Think about it...

Anyway, it's 1:00 a.m. and the Sox and Indians are still tied in Game 2 (11th inning). I think I'll sign off now before the inevitable game-winning, clutch homer by Papi. Sigh. Does that guy ever not save the day? Harrumph. Maybe I'll just go read something.

Word.

Dim the lights and cue the dramatic music.

Tonight ... on The Great Book Publishing Challenge ... we'll decide which novel will be published. Will it be the romance? The mystery? The western? Your votes decide. So, who will be ... the next great American novelist?

Does this sound like a reality show you'd watch? It might sound silly, but some publishers are running American Idol-style competitions to publish books. An article on NPR talked about how a social networking site ran this competition, and it actually found very talented people to get published.

I think it's great that people are getting excited about writing. And this is definitely a way to get your foot in the door of the publishing world.

But I wonder what the "audition" round would be. Instead of wannabe singers screeching "Unchained Melody," would it be wannabe writers sitting in front of a computer, staring at a blank screen? Would it be a video clip of a person stuffing his manuscript into an envelope and getting a paper cut? (Ouch!)

Would you enter a contest like this? You know what, I think I would. Of all the reality shows out there, this seems like it would be the one with the least amount of humiliation. No eating pigs' brains, no vying for the love of a washed-up 80's singer, no singing. And the chance to become a published author. Sounds pretty good to me.

If you entered this contest, what would you submit? A poem? A short story? Your biography? Hey ... wait a minute. No need to even enter a contest. [Shameless plug alert] You can be published on this very blog! Yay! Go on and e-mail your masterpiece to word@weeklyreader.com.

Jessica, out!

Spotlight fades to black as credits scroll over the screen.