Here's an draft of a story from my life that I wrote last year:
If you know me, you will be astonished to find that once upon a time, I absolutely refused to read the Harry Potter series. Let me take you back years and years, to when Harry Potter felt like a villain....
“No! No! I will not read it! No!” I yell to my sister. She looks at me with a I-can’t-believe-you-don’t-want-to-read-Harry-Potter look on her face. She shakes her head, then tries for the thirteenth time to convince me to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.
“It’s a really good book series,” she says. “I know you’ll love it. Trust me Megha. I know you really well, Don’t I? Come on. Megha please re-”
I started protesting for the thirteenth time. “No! No, no, no!”
“Okay, okay, fine. You don’t have to read it.” I immediately stop arguing and smile.
“Yay!” I say, skipping away.
“But dad will read it to you,” my sister says under her breath. She goes to find my dad, although I don’t know it. I skip upstairs to my room and start reading The Magic Tree House #10. Meanwhile, my sister asked my dad to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone to me before bed. My dad agrees.
A few minutes later, he calls "Megha! Get ready to go to sleep!” I quickly close my book and put it on my bedside table. I curl up under my blanket, shaking with excitement. My dad walks in with a book under his arm. He curls up next to me. Then he starts reading. I didn’t even notice what the book is. As soon as the first sentence rolls off his lips, I know I am going to love this book. And I do. As dad comes to the ending of the first chapter, I am almost asleep. I stay awake long enough to hear the title of the book:
“Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.”
“No! No! I will not read it! No!” I yell to my sister. She looks at me with a I-can’t-believe-you-don’t-want-to-read-Harry-Potter look on her face. She shakes her head, then tries for the thirteenth time to convince me to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.
“It’s a really good book series,” she says. “I know you’ll love it. Trust me Megha. I know you really well, Don’t I? Come on. Megha please re-”
I started protesting for the thirteenth time. “No! No, no, no!”
“Okay, okay, fine. You don’t have to read it.” I immediately stop arguing and smile.
“Yay!” I say, skipping away.
“But dad will read it to you,” my sister says under her breath. She goes to find my dad, although I don’t know it. I skip upstairs to my room and start reading The Magic Tree House #10. Meanwhile, my sister asked my dad to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone to me before bed. My dad agrees.
A few minutes later, he calls "Megha! Get ready to go to sleep!” I quickly close my book and put it on my bedside table. I curl up under my blanket, shaking with excitement. My dad walks in with a book under his arm. He curls up next to me. Then he starts reading. I didn’t even notice what the book is. As soon as the first sentence rolls off his lips, I know I am going to love this book. And I do. As dad comes to the ending of the first chapter, I am almost asleep. I stay awake long enough to hear the title of the book:
“Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.”
