Chapter 1: Middle School Writing Contest

A Chapter by CarmenT

Lydia wants to enter a writing contest to see how good of writer she is compared to others her age.

Lydia had her head going up and down as she loudly clacked the keys on her computer. Grandma Francine slowly walked up behind her. “Grandma, you’ve been doing that since I was five,” Lydia said, still looking at the screen. She closed the page on the computer screen and then stood up the face her grandmother.
    “Come on. Dinner’s ready.” She followed Francine downstairs. Grandpa Edward was perched over the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables with a large knife.
    “Careful with that knife,” Francine murmured setting up the table just as Lydia sat down. For dinner they ate mashed potatoes, salad, and chicken. The aroma of the chicken made her mouth water. She loved chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. Every Friday night Francine and Edward cooked chicken and mashed potatoes.
    Grandma Francine asked her about school when they sat down for dinner. “Oh, it’s fine,” Lydia mumbled. She shoved a big spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth to avoid any more answering questions. But she could tell by the way Francine looked at her that she knew what had happened.
    She gave Lydia a stern look. “Lydia, you know I don’t want you signing up for any writing contests.”
    “But why?” she groaned. “I want people to know how good I am at writing!” Her mouth was still full of food as she spoke. Loudly, she dropped her spoon on her plate.

Francine stood up and Grandpa Edward looked up at her, slowly chewing his chicken. “You know why I don’t want you in these contests!” she cried. “You know I don’t like you entering these contests! All they do is prove some writer better than all of the others! Everyone is unique and that’s why every ones writing is different!” She took her half full plate to the kitchen sink and then walked up to her bedroom on the second floor.

Grandpa and Lydia sat there at the table in silence for a while. They never really talk too much. He mostly smiles at her when she might be feeling a little bit down. His smile was the type of smile that would make you smile on your worst days.

Right then he smiled at her and then whispered, “I’ll go talk to her.” Lydia followed started to follow him upstairs but then he gestured her to stay downstairs. Once she heard the door slam behind him, she knew he was in their bedroom and she carefully tiptoed up the stairs to eavesdrop on them.

Pressing her ear to the door, she began to listen.

“Please try to cooperate with your granddaughter for once in her life,” Edward whined.

Grandma Francine exhaled loudly. “I am trying! But you know how teenagers act these days!” Lydia could almost hear her grandmother pacing around the room like she always does when she’s frustrated.

“Francine, she doesn’t even act like a teenager! She acts way older, like a responsible adult! And I have decided to give my blessings to her no matter what she does because I know someone like her would make the right decision!” That was probably the first time in Lydia’s life that she actually heard her grandfather yelling. He almost never yelled and he hardly ever talked around her.

Then Francine was quiet for a minute or two. When she spoke again her voice was hushed and it almost sounded like she was crying. “I do not want my granddaughter competing in these stupid competitions proving anyone better or worse than someone else.” Lydia could hear her sitting down on the bed in a loud way like she was exhausted. “I know she has the talents of a forty-year-old author at thirteen, but this just isn’t a good idea.” She sighed.

“Francine, this is a great opportunity for her to be recognized as a great writer,” Edward almost whispered. “Let her. She believes in herself enough to do it.” Lydia took off down the stairs making quite a racket. She hoped they were too involved with their conversation that they wouldn’t hear it.

After about five minutes of resting on the couch, watching television her grandmother called to her. “Lydia, did you already sign up for the contest?” she asked from the bedroom. Lydia went upstairs more quietly and opened the door.

“No,” she replied looking down at her feet. Grandma Francine patted her on the back and sent her back down the stairs so she could continue to argue with Edward. Nervously biting her nails, Lydia tried to watch television and not think about who was going to win the argument.

When he came downstairs he swooped into the living room with her and sat down on his special leather chair. “Sorry, but your grandmother is powerful woman,” he whispered apologetically. At that point she knew Francine had won the argument and she couldn’t enter the contest. It had been her lifelong dream to be an author. And to get it all started she wanted to enter a middle school writing contest to see how good she was against other people her age. She was almost sure she was the best. Her grandmother was a famous writer and she had her talents mostly come from Francine. I want to know if I’m the best, Lydia thought. I’m entering that writing contest no matter what my grandmother says.

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