Dear Ben,

Greetings from New York. You'll never guess where I'm off to right now! NYU is letting aspiring authors read their works to a crowd this afternoon and I've been working on a story to read! I am so excited! I need to leave soon to ensure that I get to read my story, it's first come, first read, and they only allow twenty people to read their stories today. (I won't be here for the next date, so it has to be today!) Wish me luck! Maybe there will be a publisher in the crowd and I will get noticed!

Love your sort-of girlfriend,

Mallory

Ever since the day I went to the American Girl Place and the woman had treated me like a little kid, I had been in a totally stale mood. But then I discovered a flier that NYU was hosting a reading for aspiring writers and for the past few days, I had been writing like mad to come up with the perfect story. Luckily, since I already had my characters and plot in mind, it didn't take me too long to write. I was inspired by the last time I was in New York and had drawn two mice named Ryan and Meaghan Mouse. I had a great idea for an adventure they could have! It was eight pages on notebook paper, front and back (with a few illustrations, of course). I had gone over it a million times to make sure it was perfect, and once I was satisfied with it, I wrote the title on top with "By Mallory Pike" in a sparkly gold pen. That case, if there was an important person in the audience who wanted to take a look at my story, there would be no way they could miss my name!

Now I had to pick out my outfit. I had to look super chilly, after all I would be reading my story in front of a bunch of New Yorkers, and everyone knows that New Yorkers are the most dibble people in the world. I finally decided on a denim skirt that went to my knees and my I Heart NY t-shirt. (Nobody can hate somebody who loves New York!) I tried to tame my fizzy hair by placing a denim headband over it and put on my horseshoe earrings. I knew I would never look as sophisticated as Stacey or Claudia, but at least I was looking pretty dibble!

I left an hour early. Mrs. Brewer was going to drive me there, then pick me up later. "Good luck with your story, sweetie," she said to me before I got out of the car. I thanked her and headed to the auditorium where the readings would be held.

Outside the large room, was a line of people signing up to read their stories. I was the youngest there, so far.

"How old are you, young girl?" asked a woman as I entered the line.

"Thirteen," I lied. Thirteen is just so much more sophisticated than eleven!

She chuckled. "Well, I think it's great you're here to read your story. It's always nice to have a diversity of ages. And what is your name?"

"Mallory Pike."

"And will you be reading fiction, non-fiction, or poetry?"

"Fiction," I replied. "And it has pictures…if that makes a difference."

"Well, I don't know if all the audience will be able to see the pictures," she said. "What's the title of your story?"

"Adventure in the Park," I answered proudly. I thought it had a certain ring to it and would make a great movie title. (Hey, maybe some film production company executive would be in the crowd and want to make my story into a movie!)

"Wonderful, you will be the third person to read today. They'll call your name when they're ready for you."

"Thank you," I said before taking a deep breath and heading into the auditorium.

I found a seat near the front on the aisle, so it would be easy for me to get up when my name was called. It didn't take long before all the seats were filled and there were even people standing in the back. It was definitely a full house!

A man in a suit gave a boring introduction, then the woman who talked to me outside the auditorium introduced the first reader. "Here to read her poem entitled, "Unbroken Spirit," is Tanzie McCall."

There was soft applause as a college girl dressed in all black with dark make-up and long black hair walked up the steps to the stage and stood in the center. There was silence for a few seconds except for a few people coughing and the rummaging of paper. Tanzie stared straight ahead.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?" she screamed.

I cowered in my seat. I wasn't allowed to use the f-bomb and now this girl was using it in front of all these people. I hope her mother wasn't at the reading!

"YOU MAY HAVE RAPED MY BODY!" she kept on screaming. Why did she have to be so loud? Didn't she know she could have used a microphone? "YOU MAY HAVE RAPED MY MIND! BUT YOU WILL NEVER RAPE MY SPIRIT! BECAUSE I AM FREE FROM YOU! I HAVE AN UNBROKEN SPIRIT!"

Tanzie kept on screaming her poem (which, let me tell you, would result in a failing grade at SMS if anybody ever tried to turn that in!) and I kept on cowering in my seat.

When her outburst was over, there was massive applauding and whistling and a few people even stood up. Huh?

The next girl looked to be about eighteen. She was black with long legs and tiny braids in her hair. I bet Jessi will look like her when she's eighteen. (Eighteen seems so far away! When I'm eighteen, I'll get to rule the world!)

"My name is Kenya and I'll be reading an excerpt from my story which has yet to be title," she told the audience. Clearing her throat, she began to read: "His hands, smooth and brown, glide down my body, wet, and glistening with sweat."

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

"My breasts are firm like peaches and his hands are like a farmer, trying to find the most ripe."

Oh, boy. This was getting slightly embarrassing. I was glad the room was fairly dark so nobody could see me blushing.

"Lustful. Sensual. Passionate. These are the words to describe how I feel when I feel his pulse, vibrating inside of me."

Suddenly I became very interested in my story in front of me and concentrated on that.

Finally, when Kenya was done with her (pornographic!) story, it was my turn next.

"We have a special young lady reading a story that she wrote and drew all by herself!" the woman said as she introduced me. "Please welcome thirteen-year-old Mallory Pike, who will be reading her story, 'Adventure in the Park'!"

There was a scattering of applause as I held my head up high and walked up the stairs and stood before the mike on the stage. I looked out into the audience and suddenly got very nervous. There was a lot of people there! But I thought of Jessi and how she was brave to dance in front of huge crowds and if Jessi could do it, then so could I! You are a winner, Mal, I reminded myself. You can do this. Your story is totally dibble and everyone here will think so as well.

I cleared my throat and began to read:

"Once upon a time there was a mouse named Ryan Mouse. Ryan Mouse wore a cap and a baseball jacket. He did not have very good eyesight, so he had glasses. Ryan Mouse loved to play baseball. He often played with his other friends in the field. Ryan lived in the field. He had a girl friend named Meaghan Mouse who live in a town. Meaghan Mouse was a very fashionable mouse, like all mice from the town were. She wore a huge sweat shirt and high-tops. Meaghan liked to wear lots of jewelry: she had her ears pierced and wore lots of necklaces."

I looked up to see if the crowd was getting excited about my story, but all I saw were bored expressions. How could they not love this story? What's more loveable than a mouse that wears clothes? Hello, have these people never heard of Mickey?

I was done with the first page, so I lifted the notebook up so they could see my drawing of Ryan and Meaghan Mouse. Then I continued reading:

"One day Meghan Mouse came to visit Ryan and they had a picnic in in the park. They had a meal fit for a rat." (I paused, waiting for people to laugh, but there wasn't a peep). "There was cheese and bread and all sorts of yummy treats. Only their meal was ruined when an evil gnome with ugly warts and fangs and claws decided to show up! 'Rawr, I'm hungry! Give me your food!' the evil gnome shouted to Ryan and Meaghan. 'No!' squeaked Meaghan. 'You can not have our food, you big mean gnome!'"

"This story sucks!" somebody from the audience shouted and a bunch of giggling followed.

"Shhh," said the woman who was announcing the readers. "She's only thirteen now, let her finish."

I did finish my story, but I read with a lot more trepidation and doubt. There was only a handful of applaud and certainly no standing ovation. Well, if these people wanted foul language and erotic images in their stories, they certainly weren't going to get it from Mallory Pike. I'm a good girl and good girls write about cute little field mice!