This week hailed reading week; a week off from uni. Any English student will know all too well that reading week means hard graft- not exactly the half-term we’re used to. However, this week I spent my days lounging around doing 0% reading and 0% assignment-writing, so you know, pretty productive and all that. Today, I’ve arrived back at uni with a sickening fear at the fact that I now have a pretty dense pile of work to get through this next week to make up for the lack of motivation during my days off. So naturally I’ve decided to write a blog post this evening, because it’s not like I’ve got anything else I should be doing. Pah.
Anyway, one day this week, I decided to distract myself from assignments by clearing out my room at home, giving it a lil spring clean if you will. It was a classic case of Maddie procrastination, because clearing out my room feels super productive, and I got an absolute ton done- I just didn’t focus my energy on doing the work that was more important (aka said assignments lol). In one of my desk drawers, I came across a few notepads that I’d owned since v young. Intrigued, I opened one of them and oh my goodness, I found some true beauties- diamonds in the rough. I am being utterly sarcastic here, because inside these notepads were a treasure trove of stories that lil old Maddie between the ages of 7 and 9 decided to write, because Maddie aged 7-9 wanted to be an author. It’s hilarious that I am now doing an English and Creative Writing degree.
So from the ages of 7 to 9, I came up with a character called Crazy Maizy (should have been Maisy, but small Maddie decided that the ‘z’ in crazy needed to match up with the character’s name). Sometimes I would decide to be grammatically correct and call her ‘Maisy’, but other times I preferred the indie version. Crazy Maizy went on many adventures, of which I wrote about in a ton of short stories. They’re all equally hilarious and equally awful and today I thought I’d share one of my talentless pieces, just for the fun of it.
This particular ‘story’ is written from Crazy Maizy’s sister’s point of view and in this story, said sister decides to run away to the circus, because she is fed up of her family. Rest assured, there’s a lovely lil happy ending, because I’ve always been a sucker for romanticising life. I wrote this when I was 9. I’ll include pictures of the actual manuscript (ha) and a grammatically-correct version that I’ll type out here, just for ease of reading. I may interject present day a little, just to rip the shit out of my authorly attempts. Enjoy!
The Runaway Girl ~ by 9-year-old Madeleine Mae
I have always dreamt of working at the circus. There was a circus in a field, a stone’s throw from our house. We went to see it. It was amazing. I can remember seeing the clowns throwing custard pies at each other, again and again. That made me laugh until my eyes started to water. [I love how I’ve begun by saying that I laughed so much that I felt physical pain, and then probably decided that clowns throwing custard pies at each other (albeit ‘again and again’) wouldn’t elicit that much laughter.]
I was only four then. My little sister wasn’t even born. It was probably a good thing because she’d spoil the show by chatting all the time.
My sister Maizy is such a chatterbox. We call her Crazy Maizy. Seriously, she’s like, hyper. She’s got too many E Numbers in her. [This gal has sass: ‘she’s like, hyper’]
My dad’s football crazy. He’s got loads of football memorabilia, from t-shirts to World Cup sticker books. You name it, he’s got it. My mum is so cringe-worthy. When I went to my friend’s house for a sleepover one night, she had to kiss me on the cheek and say that she’d packed Mr. Croc and his blanket. Also, she wears horrible, old fashioned clothes. She thinks that trousers that have funny patterns on are in. But, they’re not. If she goes shopping on her own she comes back with a top that’s not even my size and has Winnie the Pooh on it. So, that’s my family for you. Yes, I admit that they are a bit on the weird side. [The hilarious thing is that 9-year-old me actually had a crocodile cuddly toy called Mr.Croc- why, I do not know.]
Oh yes: one more person to talk about. The magnificent and wonderful- maybe that’s not right. The stupid and most weird girl, me. This is my profile:
Name: Chloe Thompson [One of my closest friends in Primary School was called Chloe]
Age: 10 and a 1/2
Best friend: Ellie Meek [Again, one of my closest friends in Primary School had the exact name ‘Ellie Meek’ – I clearly couldn’t be bothered to think of original names here]
Pet: Mum doesn’t let me have one
Nickname: Cuckoo Chloe (which I hate) [I like alliteration surrounding my protagonists, don’t I]
Favourite song: Do not know, because Maizy stole my radio off me!
Favourite food: Cake, and more cake!
You want to know why I hate myself? Well, that’s the story I’m just about to tell. [And what a segway that is – 9-year-old me, I applaud you]
It all started one Saturday night. I had just got back from a party. We settled down to watch Money or No Money. It’s a game show where you win money, or you don’t win money. Anyway, as I was saying, we settled down to watch the show. [I have hilariously put my own take on Deal or No Deal here]
“Mum,” I said, sadly.
“Not now, Chloe,” said Mum. “We’re watching the show.”
“It’s really important” I said, impatiently. “When I was at the party, Ellie, my best friend, was being well mean to me. She said I had tasteless fashion.” [Honestly cannot imagine a 10-year-old saying the word ‘tasteless’- to be honest, I’m surprised I even thought to use it whilst writing this aged 9 hahaha]
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Mum. “You’ll be friends again tomorrow.”
“Mum, it isn’t like that!” I screamed. “Me and Ellie have been best friends since pre-school. We haven’t even fallen out until tonight!”
“Calm down,” said Maizy, sarcastically.
“How am I supposed to calm down?!” I shouted. “Like you’d ever know how to calm down! You are a selfish, ugly pig!” [I love how I’m just going through all the adverbs in the thesaurus here to describe the way in which the characters are speaking- first I screamed, now I’m shouting lol]
“Chloe, now you’re getting angry. Stop it at once!” shouted dad. “Go to your room until you’re ready to say sorry to Maizy!” [Oh, now we’re all shouting]
“I’ll go to my room to pack my suitcase and leave to the circus. And I’m not coming back!” [Here’s the bombshell- the climactic moment!!!!]
“Go ahead,” said Maizy. “See if we care!”
I ran upstairs crying. I knew there was a circus coming to town that night. [How convenient for the story lol]
When everyone was asleep, I crept downstairs and made my way to the circus tent. Mum and dad didn’t think I’d actually run away to the circus, so in the morning they got a big fright when they saw I was gone. Maizy started doing her fake cry to get mum’s attention. Mum didn’t listen, though. She rang 999 and asked for the police.
I was hiding by the circus tent. I heard a policeman ask a clown if they’d seen me. [Clearly, the only act I could remember being at a circus was a clown]
All of a sudden, it all came back to me. [I remember ‘all of a sudden’ literally used to be my fave phrase]
What a fool I’d been! Why did I want to run away from my lovely little suburban house, my cute sister, my football-crazy dad and my cringe-worthy mum? I loved my life as it was, without any changes. I ran all the way back home with my suitcase in my hand. [As I said, ofc there’s a happy ending]
Mum was really pleased to see me. “I wondered where you had go to!!” she said, worried. I ran to Maizy and gave her a hug. She looked puzzled. “What’s up with you?” she asked. “You normally pinch me!”
“At least you’re safe and sound now!” said dad.
“If there’s anything we can do to prevent you from running away again?” said mum. [The fact that these parents are rewarding their child for putting herself in danger and running away baffles me]
“Well, there is a few things…” I started.
Since then, mum has stopped being so cringe-worthy and has listened to my advice on fashion. Dad has thrown his collection of football memorabilia away and Maizy has stopped being that hyperactive. Oh, and Ellie is friends with me again. So maybe I wouldn’t call myself the most stupid and weird girl. I’d call myself the most happiest and luckiest girl in the universe! [‘most happiest’ is really not an okay phrasing]
And watch this space- there’ll be some more stories about me soon! You bet!!! [Sadly, there were plenty more to come]
J.K. Rowling who, eh?