
“Yeah, not exactly superhero-like, I know. My only super powers are teaching Middle-School kids and writing Indie YA novels. And those are powers that are easily ignored by the truly evil ones,” said Mickey, as if there were actual wisdom in his stupid, purple Mouse-Head.
“Well, you did write a pretty good novel in that last teacher story you wrote. It might make a difference if a few of the right people read it and understand what you are trying to say about education.”

“You’d have a pretty good point there if anybody ever read the danged thing. I have given away paperback copies, and now it’s free this weekend while so many people are stuck at home with lots of reading time and no reason not to click on the link to get it free for their Kindle or free Amazon cloud reader. Of course, it hasn’t even been reviewed one time. Not even by Page Publishing who supposedly edited and printed it before I moved it to Amazon.” Mickey had an ironic twinkle in his eye as he said it.
“Mickey, you are not very good at promoting your books. It is day two of the free book promotion, and you have only given away four copies.”
“I know, I know…” he said with a sigh. “But it is a pretty good story. The title character teaches English to sixth graders. And she is not only tasked with teaching some unique and somewhat challenging kids in the classroom, but she has to deal with difficult parents, an even-more difficult principal, and the fact that her little brother grew up to be a wizard and told the local invisible fairy kingdom that she was the key to helping them defeat the chaotic forces of evil from the fairy realm. You know, the same problems almost every teacher has.”

“It sounds like a book worth reading. And I should know. I have read the danged thing completely from beginning to ending about seven times. Of course, five of those times was because I wrote the previously-danged thing and needed to proofread it more than twice.”
“So, I am now trying to exert the full might of the Mickey and his miraculous super powers on you, the wonderful few who will actually read this dumb blog this far, but still haven’t clicked on the link. It is free, after all. What do you really have to lose?” Mickey shouted into the air of the internet.
Crickets were all we heard on this end.
Something Unexpected
I finished up a final proofread and formatting project on the novel I am re-publishing on Amazon, Magical Miss Morgan.
And, you know what? The story made me cry again. An unbroken record. It is about the fifteenth time I read through it. And every single time, the little three-inch-tall fairy is killed again, and I can’t keep my eyes dry.
He’s not even based on a real person as so many of my characters are. It’s not like it is someone I know and love. It’s a fairy. Not even remotely real. And I’m the one who decided he had to die in the story because because good comedy stories always end with at least one main character dying… Don”t they?
But I can’t help feeling things about the characters in my stories. I don’t love them all. I hate some of them. But, they’re the ones you are supposed to hate. They are villians, bad guys, characters based on real people who hurt me in real life.
It’s not just my stories that make me feel. I have read Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities twice, and both times Sydney Carton made me cry. I read Dickens’ Old Curiosity Shop only once. And Little Nell made me cry so hard I could never reread that book. And there’s Simon in The Lord of the Flies, and, of course, the old Yeller dog in Old Yeller by Fred Gipson… I’m a sucker for heroic deaths and tragic losses. They touch and twist my little blue heart.
But I cried for the fifteenth time, and I survived it. I will probably cry again if I read it again. That is what life is like. That is what fiction is for. To make me think and feel and… love.
Magical Miss Morgan will soon be back in print.
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