My One and Only Brush With Fame

I won't lie.

I've got some kick-butt stuff in my room.

Including but not in any way limited to: posters, useless knick-knacks, a giant stuffed cow, a typewriter, etc. 

And this light switch.

But I've acquired most of these things from rather mundane places. Wally World. Mail order. Random antique stores and flea markets I stumble into.The only thing with an interesting story behind it is wedged between the books on my shelves, inside the front cover of Walk Two Moons.

Firstly, one of my favorite authors of all time is Sharon Creech. I've read nearly all of her books, and as a wee tot, lived and breathed her stories. Her characters are brilliant and everything naturally intertwines in simple and lovely ways. One day, struck with a chronic boredom that hung over me as darkly as the plague, I decided to take action and take my day into my own hands. Which meant I did some hardcore research on the internet in the form of consulting the almighty Google “what to do when bored”. And benevolently, the search engine bestowed answers upon my weary soul. “Write a letter to your favorite author!” And I was all like mmkay. So I did.

I said all the usual things. Ur books r gud. How do u write gud? Ur kewl. Write back plz kthxbai. I slapped a stamp on that piece of practical literary genius and shipped it off into the unknown, completely unsure if the hour or so I'd spent constructing it would be a total waste of time.

Several months later on a similarly dreary, boring day, I received a response in the mail. Lo and behold, heavens above, my name was on the envelope and hers up in the left hand corner, written by hand with the same fingers that had typed out some of my favorite novels of all time. I tore it open with mad fervor, disbelieving that this could actually be happening, someone I really admired and who had won various Newbery awards had written a letter to me, some random kid who was really bored and had nothing better to do but hope for it, man I was excited.

To be honest, I was a bit let-down when I gutted the envelope and frantically looked over its contents. It was a form letter, a generic response to the fan mail she received, covering all the basic answers to the regular things a little kid with a pen might have to say/ask of her in a letter. Everything I asked her. But I was  overjoyed nonetheless, because she signed all the little papers inside and wrote me a little note at the top of one page:

“Hi, Elizabeth-

Thanks so much for your great letter—I hope this and the enclosed sites answer your questions. Good luck w/ your writing!”

So. Pretty good, for an eleven-year-old kid.

Months passed. I got bored again. But a couple of Sharon Creech books fixed an afternoon of that, and her book The Castle Corona gave me so many happyfeels all I wanted was a sequel. I was desperate for one. So I was all like “POWER TO THE PEOPLE” and wrote her again, asking if she would ever consider expanding her fantastic book in the form of a continuation in a series? I highly suspected it was not to be, but at least I would know, if she decided to answer this annoying little kid who kept pestering her.

Less time than before passed before I received a response in the mail. It wasn't another hefty envelope, but a postcard with a cute little polar bear stamp, and it felt more personal this way because everything had been written by pen this time. By “everything” I mean my address and the couple of sentences she scribbled down, but that was enough to make me explode with joy.

“14 Dec '11

Dear Elizabeth-

Thank you for your beautiful letter. Although I hadn't planned to write a sequel to Castle Corona- you never know!

xxSharon Creech”

So yeah. This is the closest brush with fame I've ever had. I keep all of the papers inside their original envelope and in the front cover of the first book of hers I read. Hey. Could be valuable, someday. Not that I'd ever sell my precious correspondence.

Have a fantastic week,

Elizabeth

P.S. The only other real interesting thing I have with 

something of a little backstory are these two posters. One my dad rescued from being thrown out in Quebec City, and the other came from a tiny little festival in Florida. They look pretty similar, don't they? I think they're really awesome. XD