There was a girl, who, for her whole life, enjoyed reading and writing. Her mother and father had always read to her and taught her how to write, but now she was sad because her mother was no longer here with her. Her father was sad too, and he didn't talk to her very often anymore.

And so, the girl did more of what she was capable to do. She spent hours writing, for she knew one day she could be a writer. But was she brave enough to share her stories with everyone she knew and strangers?

And so her days passed: without attention or speaking, but going on adventures in her imaginary worlds. All this happened, but one day, her father stopped by her room to ask what she was doing. "Writing and reading," the girl responded plainly.

The father gave her a quick nod of approval, and then, when the girl was about to turn her attention to the story again, he said, "Do you have a finished book?" The girl nodded.

    "Maybe you should think about publishing it," the father said, and walked away, perhaps to do work again. That gave her an idea. Maybe she should!

The girl quickly searched through her thick stack of papers for her best story, and she mailed it to a publishing company called Scholastic. She was anxious to receive a message back, and she hoped they would accept her manuscript. In the meantime, she was very, very bored.