Scot’s note: Veronica Moffet turns sixteen next month. I stopped by her house to visit with her folks the other day. Veronica was hunched on a chair in the corner of the room pouring through her old journals. I liked what she had written and I asked her if I could post some of them in a blog. She hand-picked a few, and here is the first one, from over four years ago.
My dad’s out of town again. Sometimes it seems like he’s out of town more often than he’s here, especially when it’s book tour time. I used to think it was cool that my dad was an author, but now, not so much. Maybe if he didn’t write these weird graphic novels, it would be better. Seriously, if he wrote something for normal people, I wouldn’t have such a problem with him being gone. It’s not that I miss him of course, it’s just that when he’s gone Mom focuses her entire laser-like momattention on me. When he’s here, it at least gets spread out a bit.
Plus, if he wrote for regular people, then maybe he could make a decent living and I could finally get all the stuff I’ve needed for all this time! Yeah, that’s what he needs to do. He could write stuff that’s less bizarre and then maybe even I could be the star! He could still have the stories take place in this mythical land he made up called Enos, but I could be the one going on adventures and having fights with horrible monsters and I would totally beat the snot out of them. And maybe there even could be romance, you know, between me and some cute guy(s) and stuff.
Yes, that’s what he needs to do. When he gets back from his book tour I’m going to tell him that he needs to change direction. He’ll see that what I say makes sense and he’ll say “What an excellent idea Veronica, I wish I had thought of that myself.” And maybe he’ll even give me a cut of the royalties (because I’m sure they will be big) and I’ll be able to go to Nordstrom and buy those shoes that really aren’t that expensive, no matter what anyone says.