JACK’S PROBLEMS By Spencer, age 10

Pancakes
Jack scoops the batter up.
He pours it on the pan and oil spatters everywhere.
Flames rise and steam flutters across the hallway.
Chase
Jack chases his dog.
He slips on his chessboard and crashes into the stove.
Jack’s blood drips like water onto the burners.
Steam and smoke whoosh up to the ceiling.
Race
Behind the starting line, Jack stretches.
The referee points the gun it the air and pulls the trigger. BOOM!
Jack digs into his pocket and pulls out some metal things.
The pieces rattle and their hooks stab the ground.
He picks them up and puts together a jetpack.
CLANG! 
A bird poos on the referee’s head and
he covers his eyes with his hands, 
and runs to the bathroom.
On Jack’s last lap, the jetpack runs out of gas.
The ref sees him from the bathroom and blows his whistle.
Jack ignores him and keeps on going.
Emptying The Trash
Jack goes down to the basement to dump the garbage.
The can is full of rotten food and dirty napkins.
Red and green eyes glow in the dark.
A monster roars. 
Jack throws the can and runs up the stairs.
He turns on the light and the monster
disappears into the trash can.
Bus Ride
Jack looks out the giant window and sees a meteor.
A red oval with a flaming tail shoots across the sky.
Jack calls 911.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
Jack shouts, “A meteor is coming.”
“That is not a meteor. It is the sun.”
“Oops,” says Jack.
About the Author
Hi, my name is Spencer. I live in San Francisco with my mom, dad and brother. I am ten years old. Soon I will be in middle school. I am also the author of Kim Goes to Hawaii and My Confusion. My favorite book we read in Room 2 is The Hobbit because it has a lot of war and a dragon. I like writing poetry because you can make a few words say a lot.

MY CONFUSION By Spencer, age 9

My confusion lives in the North Pole
because he likes 
cold places.
He wears toilet paper
because he wants to be a mummy.
He swallows 
vanilla ice-cream
because he loves white.
He loves white because it is nothing,
and nothing doesn’t hurt his head.
He breathes fire
to burn the people
who put him in jail.
He breaks windows 
because he needs the glass for protection.
I wish he would go to sleep.
About the Author
My name is Spencer. I am nine years old. I live with my mom, dad and little brother. Some day I want to be better at math. If I were a season, I would be summer because I like vacations. If I could go back in time, I would go to the year 1912 so I could watch the Titanic sink. I am also the author of Kim Goes to Hawaii.

KIM GOES TO HAWAII By Spencer, age 8


Kim is hungry. He walks into Cala Foods and touches the donuts. He gets sick. He gets a stomachache and he throws up in aisle seven. He hates aisle seven. He hates every aisle, except the watermelon aisle. He gets a cart and starts looking for watermelons. He loves watermelon because he is allergic to every other food in the world.

It is winter. Watermelon is out of season in California. Kim decides to go to Hawaii. He travels there by airplane. When he gets there, he goes to a farm to look for work. The man there says, “You can work here on Mondays, Fridays and Saturdays.”

“Ok,” Kim says.

“Each day you come, you get fifty dollars.”

“Ok,” Kim says.

“On Mondays you have to milk cows. On Fridays you have to plant plants and on Saturdays you have to get eggs.”

“Ok,” says Kim.

On his first day of work Kim asks the man, “Can I eat watermelons?”

“When you are done Kim,” the man says.

At the end of Kim’s first day the man says, “It is getting dark Kim. You have to go home.”

“I don’t have a home in Hawaii.”

“Oh,” says the man. “You can come home with me.”

“Ok,” says Kim.

Kim and the man walk to his house.

The next morning is Tuesday. “I do not have to go to work,” Kim says. Kim folds a toy gun out of paper. “Boom!”

“Be quiet Kim,” the man says. “You are too noisy.”

“Sorry,” says Kim. “Can I have the watermelon yet?”

“They are not done growing. They will be done in May. It’s still December now.”

“Fine,” says Kim. “My birthday is Monday.”

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know what year I was born.”

“Why not?” says the man. “Where are your parents?”

“They are dead.”

“When did they die, Kim?”

“When I was six.”

“How?”

“A stranger shot them.”

“Tell me the story, Kim,” says the man.

“My mom and dad were walking with me on a street where a lot of strangers lived. I saw a man with gold earrings and a gun. I was about to tell my mom and dad but it was too late. They fell on the ground. The stranger smelled like rotten cheese and when I smelled him, my asthma was cured, but I got terrible food allergies after that.”

“Then it’s time to go to the doctor,” said the man.

“NOO!” said. Kim. “I do not like to go to the doctor.

“Too bad. You have to or else you will die. The watermelons won’t be ready to eat until May.”

“Fine,” said Kim.

The man brought Kim to the doctor.

“Hi,” the doctor said to Kim. “Follow me.”

Kim followed the doctor into a little room.

“Where do you want your allergy shot?” the doctor said.

“On my stomach.”

“Okay, pull up your shirt.” The doctor poked the needle into Kim’s stomach.

“Ouch,” Kim said. “That hurts.” Kim felt his body changing. He felt his insides moving. “I don’t have to eat watermelon anymore.”

About the Author

Hi, my name is Spencer. I am eight. I live in San Francisco with my mom, dad and my baby brother. I am good at jumping high on my bed. I can almost touch the ceiling! Some day I want to be good at taking care of my baby brother. Right now it’s hard because I have so much homework. My earliest memory is of the time I ripped up my mom and dad’s important papers. I was so little, I didn’t know they were important. If I got one wish, I would wish for a baby sister because my baby brother hits me a lot.