If my teacher was a witch….

I picked up a flier at work a while back advertising a writing competition for kids.  A local author was launching a book on Halloween had organized it, and we handed it to Milo one evening.

“A competition….what would I get if I win?” he asked.  He’s Mr. Competitive.  You’d never get him writing a story just for the fun of it, but if given a challenge, he might rise to it….if the incentive was strong enough.

We read the flier more thoroughly.  “You’d get a book, and a book for your school library,” Jeremiah informed him.

“Hum,” he shrugged.

“I’d buy you pizza if you won,” Jeremiah offered.

“And I’d buy you ice cream,” I countered.

We both figured the chances were remote.

He perked up.  He likes pizza and ice cream.  He got several big pieces of scrap paper, folded them in half, stapled them like a book, and got to work.  For the next several afternoons he worked.  It’s amazing what incentives will do.

When he was finished Jeremiah suggested that he could type it.  He was surprisingly keen, and laboriously got to work.  A page in I offered to transcribe if he dictated, and that same evening he sent a Google Doc link to the author.  Such a Gen Z.

Here’s the story he produced (imagine colorful formatting added):

If my teacher was a witch

By Milo Shaw.

I was walking to school when I saw my best friend william. when we got to school I found a broomstick and a cauldron next to it and there were foot steps that lead to a cat. On Mrs Adams’ desk i saw lots of potions I reminded william that we had a reliever today. I took a piece of paper and drew a picture of the broomstick, the cauldron, and the cat. 

“I think that our reliever is a witch,” I said. 

“A WITCH!” shouted william. “I hate witches!” said william.

“What was that you said, Mr william?” said the witch. 

“um, no ma’am. I said that witches are cool, not ugly or anything like that,” said William.

“So are you the reliever?” I asked.

“Yes, I am,” said the witch. “We are going to learn how to make potions.”

I had one more look around the  room to see if there was anything else different about the room today.  “Hey, look at the witch’s evil grin on her face,” I said to William. “I saw a bottle of  frogs on a shelf.” 

SHE’S GONNA TURN US INTO FROGS!!!”  said William.

set off to work.

When I was trying to catch them I remembered something that my dad told me.  He said “If you ever meet a witch, use its spells against them.” Ok, I will.  And then I quickly snatched the witch’s wand.

“No, you thief!” said the witch.  “Why should I have ever trusted you?  Please don’t curse me with bad luck forever.”

“Ok,” I said, “but you have to put my friends back to normal.”  “What was that you said, little boy?” and she turned him into a frog.  Then she turned everybody else except me into frogs.  

“I wonder what she’s going to do with me,” I thought.

“Hey you, with the brown hair,” she said.  

“Me?” I said.

“Yes you, come over here.”

“Um, ok,” I said.

“Would you like to be my assistant?” said the witch.

“Oh yes, please! What are we going to do next?” I asked. “Make a potion to heal my dad?”  

“Yes, yes we are, you read my mind,” said the witch.

“So what do we need?”

“Lots of frogs,” said the witch.  “Catch all of them!”

“But those are my friends,” I said.  

“It doesn’t matter about them,” said the witch.

“Ok,” and I set off to work.  When I was trying to catch them I remembered something my dad told me.  He said if you ever meet a witch, use its spells against them. Ok, I will!  Then I quickly snatched the witch’s wand.

“No, you thief!” said the witch.  “Why should I have ever trusted you?  Please don’t curse me with bad luck forever.”

“Ok,” I said, “but you have to put my friends back to normal.” 

And with that she clicked her fingers, and my friends were back.  

Just then the principal walked in and said, “Oh my word, how did I not come here first.”  He got his phone out and dialed 911. Two minutes later the cops came and arrested the witch, but no one knew that the witch had an extra wand.  With that, she turned the whole world into a giant frog. It kept moving, so when I fired the wand, the frog would move, so it hit something else and made that a frog.  One hour later the cops finally caught the witch and got her into prison so that she could not get her wand, because she accidentally left it in the car.  

The End. 

The writing was due 25th October, and he was immediately keen to hear if he had won or not.  He is an optimist, his father’s son!

It wasn’t too many days later that the momentous email came–he HAD won in his age category.

Milo: “I was surprised that I writted four pages,” he reported.  “I like writing.”

The competition was a book launch for the author, so she came to the school to present her new books to Milo and to the school library.  Quite a proud moment for an 8 year old.  He was chuffed!

Turns out the publicity of winning a writing competition–the author visiting one’s classroom–was almost as good as the pizza and ice cream. Almost.

 

 

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