When
I attended Rutgers University for my M.L.S. degree, I took the additional
courses needed to specialize in becoming an educational media specialist—a
fancy description for a school librarian. I took a course in children’s
literature and another in young adult lit. Both courses required reading a huge
number of books and reviewing them. However, I very much enjoyed doing this.
As
to young adult literature, I often felt the novels were better written than many
of those for adults, something our professor said as well. So it’s no surprise
that I decided to write some of my own. As an English teacher at the high
school level I taught novels like J.D. Salinger’s THE CATCHER IN THE RYE,
Harper Lee’s TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, and Golding’s LORD OF THE FLIES. These are
just a few of the classics of YA literature worthy of note. I believe every
author should try writing at least one meaningful coming-of-age book.
My
novel THE DEVIL AND DANNA WEBSTER has proved popular with readers. It was
written for teenage girls, as was STACY’S SONG. But the truth is that adult
readers can and do connect with these books as well.
Black
Opal Books has now brought out WITCH WISH, my current YA novel. I think it will
be a good read for adult readers as well as teens.
Here’s
something about the book:
Val
Williams believes she will never be as pretty or as popular as her older sister
Ailene. When Ailene dumps her on an unfamiliar road after an argument, Val
decides to ask directions of the only person she sees, an old woman engaged in
a garage sale. Val purchases a music box which the old woman claims has magical
qualities and will grant Val one wish. Val wishes that that her sister would
stop being so perfect.
When
Ailene starts acting weird, breaks up with her boyfriend, stops talking to her
friends, starts dating a “bad” boy, and cuts classes, Val is troubled. Val
begins to fear she caused all this to happen by making her wish. She suffers a
guilty conscience. How she goes about setting matters right makes for some
unusual complications and surprises.
Excerpt (prior to editing):
PROLOGUE
My sister Ailene pulled the car
to the side of the road, reached over and opened the door on the passenger
side.
“Get
out right now!” Ailene spoke through gritted teeth.
“No
way!”
“Yes,
way. You’re an obnoxious brat. I don’t have to put up with you, and I won’t for
another minute.”
Maybe I
had gone a tad overboard in the rude department today, but she’d deserved it. I
had to stand and wait while she giggled and gossiped with her airhead friends
by the lockers for what seemed like forever. I stood there being ignored and
feeling like a leper. Then finally when she finally turned to me all she said
was: “Come on. Hurry up.” Like she’d done me this great honor giving me a ride
home.
Now she
was all indignation. Well, I wasn’t going to stand for it. “I’m not getting out
of the car,” I said.
Unfortunately
Ailene’s taller and weighs more than I do. She shoved me out, hurled my backpack
after me and drove off, burning rubber. She didn’t even look back. So there I
stood at the side of a rural road with no idea exactly where I was.
Ailene
had veered off the main highway when traffic stopped. There’d been an accident
on the highway. No way of getting through any time soon. That pissed her off
too. She’s not the most adaptable individual.
It was
a warm afternoon. I didn’t mind walking, but the road was totally unfamiliar.
I’d have to travel back in the direction of the highway. From there, I could
find my way. Maybe my sister had done me a favor. Anything was better than
being around her. She found me annoying but I felt the same way about her.
As I walked, I fantasized.
Cheerleader shot dead at football
game--mystery as to who pulled trigger. As a student of journalism I
considered this possible headline. Were I to murder my sister, I wouldn't want
to be caught.
Don’t
judge me in haste. If you had a sister like Ailene, you'd probably hate her
too. I’d like to say Ailene was nasty, selfish and spoiled, but it wouldn't be true.
I have my share of faults. Lying isn't one of them. The truth? Ailene was polite,
intelligent, beautiful, and even charming—when it suited her.
So why
did I hate her? Maybe because she was everything I wished I could be but didn’t
think I ever would be. Someone like Ailene, who was so much better than most
people, you envied, idolized or hated her. It wasn’t easy living in the same
home with perfection day after day.
A house
came into my line of vision. It was an old Colonial with white clapboard
shingles and black shutters that had paint peeling. There was an old woman
sitting in a chair with all kinds of items set out on folding tables in
cardboard boxes. I guess she was having a garage sale. I figured I’d stop and ask
for directions back to the highway. She was kind of creepy looking dressed all
in black. But she was the only person around. So I walked over to her. She
stood up, smiling through crooked yellowed teeth.
“I’m
kind of lost,” I said.
She
nodded. “I can see that.” She had dark, penetrating eyes. She studied me in an
eerie way that made my blood freeze.
“Can
you direct me back to Route 516?”
“Certainly.
But first why don’t you look at these things I have for sale. They are unique.”
“Sure,”
I said, figuring to humor the old gal.
I began
looking around. She had a lot of weird stuff, old crap that I had no interest
in. But I figured if I offered to buy something I maybe could get the
directions quicker. So I glanced at the stuff on one of the tables. A polished
wooden box caught my eye.
“I see
you like my music box. Actually, I have a bit of a collection.” She picked up
the box and wound it up. “It plays Fur
Elise by Beethoven.”
I
listened and liked what I heard. “How much does it cost?”
“Whatever
you can afford.”
I was
surprised. I checked the pocket of my jeans. I had some allowance money with me
but there wasn’t much. “I’ve only got four dollars.”
“Just
the right amount,” she assured me. “There is just one thing about the box
itself.” She hesitated. “You see, how should I put this, the box has a certain
unusual quality. If I bestow ownership upon you, the music box will grant you a
wish.”
I
blinked and stared at her open-mouthed. Clearly the old lady was a few slices
short of a loaf.
“Sure,”
I said, trying to appear agreeable and humor her. “Great.”
“You
don’t believe me, do you?” She gave me a knowing smile. Then she laughed,
except I swear it sounded more like a cackle. The wind lifted her long, steel
gray hair giving her an otherworldly look. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. But I
think I should warn you. Once you open the box and make a wish out loud, you
won’t be able to take it back. You get only one wish, you understand. So think
carefully about it. Make certain you wish for something you truly want.”
You can also read more about the novel here:
https://black-opal-books.myshopify.com/products/witch-wish
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DRB3VVH
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/witch-wish/id1401568260?mt=11
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/witch-wish-jacqueline-seewald/1128937209?ean=2940162153894
Comments welcome!
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