Ah, childhood! Do you remember those endless summer days, romping through the golden or green fields, hanging out with your friends, spending your lawn-mowing or paper route money on the whims of youth? Do you recall your past and growing up in sepia tones, with blurred edges and starburst filter lighting?
Yeah, I don’t either.
My childhood was a blend of Norman Rockwell and Stephen King. I’ve written some of them down. The events are accurately portrayed as I can remember, though names have been changed to protect the victims. I hope I’ll keep adding to these, but for now they’re complete and ready for an anthology, except for the necessary editing, of course. But I offer them for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!
No criticism intended here at all. From a kids POV, it might be memories instead of memoirs. Memoirs is a very grown-up word.
I understand what you mean. It’s a memoir though, because they’re stories of my childhood told through my adult eyes. Not really intended as a kid’s or YA book. 🙂
What does YA mean? I’m working my way down the list. Just love the spider in the grass crawling on the Ryans. Very funny. Oh and the mouse. I used to have one in my desk at work. A real little one. He used to open my crackers and munch away at night. I started leaving him food and water. Don’t say it…
I won’t say it. “YA” means “Young Adult” — like Twilight was, or think Nicholas Sparks’ A Walk to Remember. 🙂