I love writing letters. Old school style, with a pen and pretty paper. Can’t we all just un-plug for a minute? A long time ago, people wrote books long-hand… I like the way books smell when they’re new. Also when they’re old and dusty, like on my aunt’s bookshelf. She has lots of cool books from a long, long time ago. But the stories are still really good. I sometimes imagine I am the girl in the stories. That it’s me who has the adventures and precious jewels. Really, I’m just okay, just average in many ways. I have a little brother who bothers me, and an older sister who I have to share a room with. Sometimes I don’t like her because she can be really mean to me. My parents work hard, and they are too tired to read all the books I want them to. So, they don’t understand me all the way, total. Sometimes I wish I had a friend who knew about all the stories I know. We could talk about them, and imagine a whole other life together. I believe I have a good imagination. I would like to know how to make all the things I imagine come true.