the girl can write

Four of our six family members are taking creative writing classes this summer from Kevin Lucia, author and fellow church member.  Here's a sample from my 12-year-old's first assignment. I was pretty darn impressed when I realized this was her first draft, a session that lasted all of a half an hour. See what you think!

(The prompt: a man in a tutu is up in tree, how did he get there?)

My Father Took Ballet

by Natalie Murphy

My father is an interesting man; 

he has a hook instead of a hand.

When I said, "Papa, I would like to take ballet."

He said, "For your first lesson, I will come and stay."

When I got to my dance school (named Too-Loo),

my teacher taught me a dance from Peru.

But my father shouted "No way!

I paid for my daughter to learn ballet!"

"Okay," my teacher sneered, "but only

because you came all the way here."

My teacher taught me to twirl and spin,

and then my father decided to join in.

When I saw him twirl and spin,

I decided I shouldn't have let him join in.

When recital day came, my teacher was very stressed.

(It didn't help when daddy's hook tore her purple dress.)

Teacher chased papa out the door and through the theater.

When the audience saw and gasped, mama made sure no one could see her.

Daddy was chased down the street by Mrs. Lee,

when they got to the park, he climbed up a tree.

"Come down from there!" Mrs. Lee shouted.

"No! Not ever!" my daddy pouted.

Mrs. Lee returned and we danced our ballet, and

she made it clear papa could no longer come to rehearsals and stay.