Up In The Air Junior Birdmen - Girl Scout Camp

After many decades, I still have fond memories looking back on my scout camp experience. I was probably 10 or 11—at that vulnerable age just shy of the terrible teenage years.

I went to camp two years in a row and the first year was, by far, the best. Although, the 2nd year taught me much more about life and relationships.

The first year, four of us friends who grew up together, went to school together and played sports together, resided for two weeks in a three-sided Gypsy Camp cabin. While there was some mild bickering amongst our quartet, we remained fiercely loyal to each other and pretty much stuck together. As I remember, we came in 2nd in the end-of-camp talent contest performing a skit to the tune of Junior Birdmen.

This is the way I remember it:

Up in the air Junior Birdmen
Up in the air upside down
Up in the air Junior Birdmen
Keep your noses off the ground

When you hear the doorbell ringing
And you have your badge of tin
Then you know, Junior Birdmen
That you sent your box tops in.

(If you have another version, please post it!)

The 2nd year wasn't quite as much fun. We graduated to the next level; a full-size cabin with 8 scouts, one of which was the daughter of the head counselor. "Lynn" (not her real name - I'm afraid she'll find me and beat me up, again) was a real, uh...snot. It was either done her way or she ran to her mother to squeal on how mean we were being to her. Like the four of us who grew up together, "Lynn" had 3 life-long friends in the cabin with her. Only difference was, they couldn't stand her either.

As stressful as that was, I learned some valuable lessons:

1) Those in charge are not always kind to the masses.
2) Life is not always fair.
3) I'm never going to be able to get along with everyone.
4) I can rise above injustice and have fun in spite of disagreeable people.

So, to all you Junior Birdmen out there..."Keep your noses off the ground!"

I have no idea what that means, but it seems like a good way to end this blog post.

I'm the author of the 'Tween time-travel series, Cynthia's Attic.

Download the series on Kindle today!

Mary Cunningham Books
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My Secret Wish - Time Travel

My secret wish is to travel back in time, have adventures and solve mysteries with my ancestors. Hmmm...sounds like a great book idea. Wait! I've already written it!

Cynthia's Attic series takes 12-year-old best friends, Cynthia and Gus (me!) through time from 1964 to 1914 and beyond. They even manage to make a trip into the future in The Magician's Castle.

A couple of reasons led to writing the books. A recurring dream I had for over 20 years about a mysterious attic was one. When realizing the dream took place in the attic of my childhood friend, Cynthia...well, you see where I'm going.

But, the main reason I've enjoyed writing the books is the ability to have adventures with my ancestors. I always regretted not paying more attention to my grandparents' stories about "the good ol' days." There are so many things I'd love to ask them, today. Unfortunately, they're all gone and many family stories died with them.

That didn't stop me from writing about the real disappearance of my g. g. grandfather who disappeared while taking a flat boat loaded with produce down the Mississippi River (Curse of the Bayou), or my g. grandfather's music store that came in handy when the circus needed an organ for the evening performance (The Magic Medallion).

I've written adventures about my dad, who was a teenage cave guide, my g. grandmother, who had to deal with running the family farm after her husband disappeared, and even my dog, Molly who died halfway through the writing of The Magician's Castle. I was so devastated over her death, that finishing the book was in question until a friend suggested I write her into the story. She quickly became my favorite character.

So, I guess my wish would be to really travel back in time and talk to my ancestors and listen to all the stories they'd have to tell. But, until someone invests a real time machine, or finds a magic trunk (besides the one in Cynthia's attic!), guess I'll be content to have adventures with them through my stories.

Mary Cunningham Books
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The Cadbury Egg - A Favorite Easter Treat

"Here comes Peter Cottontail...hoppin' down the bunny trail." Bringing Cadbury Eggs, I hope! Or, any kind of rich chocolate.

To my everlasting joy and appreciation, John Cadbury opened his first chocolate shop in Birmingham, England in 1824. Do you think he had a clue what an addicting little product the Cadbury Egg would become? Probably not, but how many of you out there have snuck into your children's or younger siblings Easter baskets to swipe one or ten?

At least our consciences can be clear knowing we're doing something really good for our moods, or bodies and our overall well-being. Chocolate, especially the dark kind, also gives us reasons to woof down dinner to get to dessert. Preferably a Cadbury Egg; a delicious combination of rich chocolate and creamy filling. Now, if they would just make dark chocolate creme eggs, I'd be in Heaven! Those little mini eggs just don't cut it.

So, what's your favorite Easter indulgence? Do you eat chocolate for pure satisfaction, or for medicinal purposes? (Yeah, right!)



Mary Cunningham Books
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Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning, 'Tween Fantasy/time-travel series, "Cynthia's Attic," women's humor book, "WOOF: Women Only Over Fifty," and several short stories.

Stitches - A Mother's View

I've always prided myself on being tough when it comes to blood and guts. I was an interested spectator as a surgeon dug a cyst out of my ring finger. "If you get light-headed, just look away," he'd said. "Nope. I want to see what it looks like," I'd answered, calmly and curiously as he proceed to stitch up my knuckle.

My husband, on the other hand, can see my leg hanging by a thread after a chainsaw accident (No! This didn't really happen. Just giving an example, here) and carry out life-saving measures, but blood spilling from any part of his body? He's on the ground, passed out cold.

But, back to me. As I mentioned before, I'm usually tough as nails when it comes to blood and injuries. Tough, that is, until it came to my 10-year-old son and his first bike wreck. I heard the crash on our front sidewalk and ran to the door just in time to see him standing on the porch, shock on his face, holding his chin.

I persuaded him to let me look at the injury. His chin was hanging open and the only thing visible was blood and bone. I rushed him to the doctor, at least I think I did. Fortunately, it was Saturday afternoon, and we arrived just as the office was getting ready to close.

As the doctor led the patient back to the surgical room, I was told several stitches to close a pretty bad wound would be needed — at which time I almost passed out in the empty waiting room. The nurse smiled and said, "Why don't you sit down and wait. It won't be long.''

I imagined all sorts of horrible things and braced myself for screams of pain coming from my son. But, none came. All I heard was a calming voice talking through the cleaning and sterilization of the injury, and then on to the procedure of putting in the stitches. When all was done, I heard the doctor say, "You're all set to go, John. You've been very brave."

I sighed with relief until he went on to say, "Now, if we can just figure out how to get your mother home."

Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning 'Tween fantasy/mystery series, Cynthia’s Attic.

She is also co-writer of the humor-filled, women's lifestyle book, Women Only Over Fifty (WOOF), along with published stories, Ghost Light and Christmas With Daisy, A Cynthia's Attic short story.

Mary Cunningham Books
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My First Favorite Book - Forever Amber???

So, maybe this wasn't my first favorite book! As most young readers, I devoured Nancy Drew and even read The Hardy Boys. I read every young reader sports biography I could get my sweaty little hands on — from Aaron to Zaharias.

But, I'll always remember Forever Amber by Kathleen Winsor, the historical novel that was banned in Boston, among other places. I was almost 15, and getting bored with the reading material available in my small town library. In those days, the Young Adult category was non-existent.

Enter: The head librarian who also happened to be my dear aunt! She noticed my frustration with age-appropriate books and started stashing books under her desk that she thought I might like. Books that my mother would've fainted dead-away had she known, even though my aunt was careful to suggest books that had no erotic content or 4-letter words. Mostly just romance. As I remember, "heaving bosom" was about as bawdy as it got.

I read everything from Tolstoy to Belva Plain. But, the beautiful, historically relevant, Amber St. Clare still haunts me. Unfortunately, it isn't the romance that I remember most about the book, but, instead, the Great Plague! These were the first vivid accounts I'd read of this horrific event, but, don't worry, I'm keeping them to myself on this post. If you want to know more about the "rat plague," Google!

But, plagues aside, I have a decision to make. I'm torn between wanting to read Forever Amber again, after all these years, or simply keeping the memory of this special book and my special aunt in my heart.

What's your advice?


Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning 'Tween fantasy/mystery series, Cynthia’s Attic. Her children's mystery series was inspired by a recurring dream about a mysterious attic. After realizing that the dream took place in the home of her childhood friend, Cynthia, the dreams stopped and the writing began.

She is also co-writer of the humor-filled, women's lifestyle book, Women Only Over Fifty (WOOF), along with published stories, Ghost Light and Christmas With Daisy, A Cynthia's Attic short story.


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Cynthia's Attic Blog
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Quake/Echelon Press

Pet Mayhem - Tomato Juice...Anyone?

Several years back, my husband and I, along with our adopted dog, Molly, vacationed in Maine at the summer home of long-time friends. The Northeast landscape was new to South Florida Molly, and she was captivated by the trees, the lake and the unusual scents.

We arrived late that evening, so Molly didn't get to do much exploring, but the next morning was another story. I opened the door and leaned down to snap on her leash a split second too late. She took off running, into the neighbors yard and under a small out building. The next thing I heard was a yelp and then I saw Molly crawl sheepishly out from under the building, her eyes blinking and squinting. The closer she came, the more obnoxious she smelled.

Since I've always had a pretty keen nose for scents, I knew instantly she'd been skunked! We were scheduled to stay three more days with our friends, but how could we possibly ask them to put up with our stinky dog? That's where the tomato juice comes in. "Best thing to kill the odor," we were told at the local food/everything store. So, we bought every can they had. Come to think of it, the cans on the shelves didn't look like they'd moved in months...not until we were told of this sure-fire remedy. Hmmmm....


We soaked poor Molly in tomato juice, then rinsed her in the cold, Maine lake. Even though it was mid-summer, trust me, you don't want to be anywhere near water without a wetsuit. But, that's the price you pay for chasing black and white-striped "kitty-cats."


In case you're wondering, the tomato juice didn't kill the smell. It lingered for weeks on Molly and all through our friends' vacation home. We did get a thank you from them a few months later. Seems that their string of summer guests didn't stick around as long as they had the year before, and they had more time to enjoy the peace and serenity of their vacation home.


Molly spent the rest of her vacation exploring the rocky lake which was fine with us. The more time she spent outdoors, the better!

Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning series, Cynthia's Attic.

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Echelon Press

Winter Sports - My Style!

If you're expecting a blog post about Participation Winter Sports, think again. I was born in Southern Indiana, people! Not exactly the home of Hans Brinker, Hans Klammer, or Wayne Gretzky!

Ponds rarely froze during the winter, so ice skates and hockey sticks weren't high on my Christmas list. "So," you're probably asking, "just how did you fill those cold, rainy, Indiana winters?

Note hint in previous paragraph. I'm from INDIANA. We play BASKETBALL! And, when we're not playing, we're watching! I'd love to have a dollar for every Friday and Saturday night I spent screaming my lungs out in a high school gymnasium, cheering on the Panthers. If you haven't experienced Hoosier Hysteria, then you've missed out.

"We've got spirit! Yes we do! We've got spirit. How about YOU?!"

Guess I have another reason for looking back so fondly on those days of hot gyms, buttered popcorn and bleachers full of screaming fans. My dad inspired my love of basketball and all sports. From the time I was about six years-old, he took me to games, home and away, and patiently explained the rules. He also explained how the men in the black and white striped shirts were mean, evil people who blew their whistles and consistently made bad calls on our team.

So, there you have it. My description of Winter Sports. Now, if you'll excuse me, my Hoosiers (Indiana U.) are ready to play on TV. I'm all set. Potato chips, dip, Diet Coke with Lime and plenty of throat lozenges for all the screaming I plan to do at the referees. Here's to you, Dad!

If you want to read a really good story about Indiana basketball, you can buy "Ghost Light!"

11-year-old Jake McMillen wants, more than anything in the world, to play varsity basketball for the Panthers, just like his late, Grandpa Max. One big problem. While Jake inherits his grandfather’s love for the game, the McMillen height passes him by.

Not only that, “old people” like his grandmother, keep taking up too much of his precious practice time. He knows she’s sick, but being dragged along to her steamy apartment by his mom, cuts into that afternoon’s pick-up game at the Island basketball court.

After getting totally humiliated during the game by star player, Quinn Parker, Jake gets a ghostly message that changes his outlook toward his grandmother’s illness and inspires him to pursue his dreams.

Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning 'tween fantasy/mystery series, Cynthia’s Attic. She is proud to announce the release of book four, "The Magician's Castle." Her children's time-travel series was inspired by a recurring dream about a mysterious attic. After realizing that the dream took place in the home of her childhood friend, Cynthia, the dreams stopped and the writing began.

She is also co-writer of the humor-filled, women's lifestyle book, "Women Only Over Fifty (WOOF)," along with published stories, "Ghost Light" and "Christmas With Daisy," A Cynthia's Attic short story (DEC 2009).

Mary Cunningham Books

Cynthia's Attic Blog

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Gus's Unique Talent in Cynthia's Attic

Hey, everyone! And, Happy Thanksgiving (almost). Mary Cunningham was supposed to post today, but since she's busy getting ready for the big dinner tomorrow, I said I'd fill in for her since I want nothing to distract her from cooking that turkey!

For those of you who don't know me, I'm Gus. My given name is Augusta Lee, but don't call me that unless you want a kick in the shins. Other than my limitless appetite, I have a pretty special talent. I don't supposed I need to keep it a secret since there are already four – count 'em – four books about me! And, my time-traveling side-kick, Cynthia, of course.

Our latest adventure take us on a very special trip to Swiss castle in the early 1900s to look for clues in the disappearance of a magician's assistant. This may not sound like much of a challenge, but, if we don't find her then Cynthia's family could face personal and financial ruin! We can't let that happen, now can we?

So check out Cynthia's Attic: The Magician's Castle. In fact, check out the whole series! Thanks to me and my very special talent to travel from place to place through a magic trunk, you'll be glad you did.

Oh, and check out the cool video below!


Buy Cynthia's Attic Series on Amazon

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Cartoon Crazes from the 60s

From the Road Runner, Chip 'N Dale, Foghorn Leghorn, Snagglepuss, Quick Draw McGraw, Sylvester and Tweety Bird (Who can forget Granny?), Rocky & Bulwinkle foiling Boris and Natasha at every turn, to Underdog. Who doesn't love the old Saturday Morning Cartoons?

Use your imagination when reading these famous Foghorn Leghorn phrases:

"Fortunately I always carry a spare set of feathers." or the famous, "Now looka I say looka here." "Go, I say go away boy, you bother me." Can't you just hear him? I never got tired of hearing his western twang.

But, as much as I loved Chip 'N Dale, Bulwinkle and Underdog, my alltime favorite cartoon character was Tweety - aka, Tweety Bird, Tweety Pie - who appeared in 48 cartoons in the Golden Age of Cartoons.

Tweety is, for the most part, a good-natured character happily spending life in his cage or a nest. That is until Sylvester starts slinking around, threatening him, he can become downright devious. And, if Tweety fails to stop his arch-enemy, then it's Granny to the rescue - the little old, bun and bustle-wearing spinster whose weapon-of-choice is an umbrella.

In doing research for this blog post, I tried to pull up current favorite Saturday cartoons and couldn't find any! Are there good cartoons out there? Please, somebody clue me in. Who is the new Tweety Bird, or Mighty Mouse, or Underdog?

Leave a comment with your favorite! Meanwhile, enjoy this stroll down memory lane.

Meanwhile, check out Saturday Morning Cartoons DVD from the 1960s on Amazon

Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning, 'Tween series, "Cynthia's Attic," co-author of the women's humor/lifestyle book, "WOOF: Women Only Over Fifty," and has several published short stories, including Ghost Light available on Kindle, and new release, Cynthia's Attic: Christmas Daisy. Pre-order - Echelon Press

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Directly from the publisher Echelon Press
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or visit my website: Mary Cunningham Books

Magic and Mayhem in Cynthia's Attic!

Cynthia and I may not have understood the term, "magical mayhem" before our time-travel trips through the old trunk in her attic. But, that all changed when we met our 12-year-old grandmothers in 1914, encountered a shape-shifting Puma named SuRana in the Louisiana Bayou, and ran our "invisible selves" all over a steam ship crossing the Atlantic Ocean.

Our latest adventure, "The Magician's Castle," has taken mayhem to new heights. Here's a little background:

Sebastien the Great, a magician whose fiancée, Kathryn, disappears through the magic trunk, vows revenge. If Cynthia and Gus don't find a missing page from the “Book of Spells,” Cynthia’s family could face financial and personal ruin.

Follow this time-traveling duo as they journey back to a 1914 Swiss castle where Eva, Sebastien’s grandmother, gives them clues on where to begin their search. Their journey takes them through miles of tree tunnels, an enchanted garden ruled by a cranky rock monster, and even high in the Alps. They get the surprise of their lives when they're sent 50 years into the future, have a shocking encounter with another set of best friends, and receive a fresh set of clues that could lead to Kathryn's return. But, at what price?

So, as you can see, magical mayhem is getting pretty ho-hum for Cynthia and me. Evil pirates? Bologna-loving alligators? All previous journeys must've been leading up to the latest one. Time-traveling into the future? Nothing prepared us for the face-to-face surprise we discover in 2014! No, I'm not gonna give it away.

Discover the Magical Mayhem for yourself!

I'm proud to announce the release of Book Four in the award-winning series, "Cynthia's Attic" will be released by Quake (Echelon Imprint) DEC 2009!

Buy the first three books on Amazon and pre-order "The Magician's Castle." Echelon Press

Mary Cunningham

True Life Mysteries - The Bermuda Triangle

*No, it's not Ground Hog Day and I'm not Andie McDowell (I wish!) or Bill Murray, so in case you think you're seeing double...you are! Pam Ripling and I must have great minds, because we think alike! Therefore, we both posted on the same subject. Enjoy this 2nd story about...

The Bermuda Triangle, also known as The Devil's Triangle, has been the subject of controversy and mystery for decades. The most familiar boundary has as its points somewhere on the Atlantic coast of Miami, San Juan, Puerto Rico and Bermuda with most of the accidents concentrated along the southern boundary around the Bahamas and the Florida Straits.

According to legend, strange happenings have been documented as early as Christopher Columbus who reported his compass showed unusual readings in the Sargasso Sea, and have continued through the centuries.

Perhaps the most famous story has been the DEC 5, 1945 disappearance of Flight 19, a group of 5 TBM Avenger Navy bombers that took off from the coast of Fort Lauderdale, FL. It is claimed that the flight leader was heard saying, "We are entering white water, nothing seems right. We don't know where we are, the water is green, no white." Although wreckage of similar planes have been found, whatever happened to Flight 19 remains a mystery.

Many explanations have been offered from UFO's, to methane gas, to rogue waves. The only things more plentiful than the number of disappearances of ships, planes and people, are the number of explanations!

Everything you'd ever want to know about The Bermuda Triangle!

What are your favorite theories? Got any new ones??


Mary Cunningham Books
Cynthia's Attic Blog

I'm proud to announce that Book Four in the award-winning series, "Cynthia's Attic" will be released by Quake (Echelon Imprint) DEC 2009! Buy the first three books on Amazon and pre-order "The Magician's Castle." Echelon Press

Feature Author: Sam Morton

Sam Morton is the author of Betrayed, a new release from Quake!

From the Back cover:

It’s an election year and Senator Ben “Pitchfork” Stevens from Texas made a campaign promise to stop illegal immigration. He virtually has. Problem is, people trying to cross the border seem to disappear. That’s a dilemma for 15-year-old Austin Pierce whose father is a political consultant and whose best friend, Rico Alvarez, happens to be in the United States illegally. When Austin discovers Rico’s beautiful cousin Veronica helps people break the law and cross the border from Mexico, he faces a decision: should he help his friends or try to stop the senator? Either path could lead to danger, even death.

And here's an excerpt from between the book covers:

"No. Your friend has come to our town—to our country—and I'm interested in what our American friends believe about our culture." Veronica's steel gaze locked into Austin. Even in the low light of the setting sun, he could see the glint in them.

But it seemed this girl had no interest in being friendly and Austin refused to be intimidated. He cleared his throat so his voice would be firm. "Well, I guess I just didn't expect to see all the retail stores here carrying all the familiar products, and whew, the Super Wal-Mart really threw me for a loop! I mean is there a place in the world those guys don't go?"

Rico put his palms out toward his friend attempting to quiet the rising tension and volume of their voices, both to no avail.

"I suppose you expected to come to some third-world dirt village, where the women grind corn and hand-pat tortillas around an open fire, and the men dress up like mariachis and sing the Mexican Hat Dance!" She swept her hands in each direction. "Or maybe you thought you'd find a bunch of gang bangers cruising around with handguns in low riders with bandana's half covering their eyes. Sorry to disappoint you, but that's more prevalent in Los Angeles—you know, the one in the United States."

"That's not what I meant," he said, his voice louder than he intended.

Her head seemed to swivel and she pointed an accusing finger in Austin's direction as she continued her rant. "Take a moment and look, Señior Pierce, and you'll see we're much the same. We have email and the internet, cable and satellite TV…surprise, surprise, surprise."

He cut her off, hands raised. "Exactly what did I do to piss you off, Roni?" Austin threw his hands apart and arched his brows, too. "I mean I hadn't even said hello before you turned your nose up at me like I reeked.”

The two had inched closer, squeezing Rico between them. They sat for a moment in an electric silence until Rico finally broke it.

"I can tell you exactly why she doesn't like you," he said.

Austin's eyes widened, the confirmation that the gorgeous cousin really disliked him striking a blow. Veronica's expression changed too. Her cheeks reddened and Austin thought her pupils glowed red. If the fire in them were real, Rico would be a block of crusted ash by now.

"She doesn't want you to know…"

"Rico do not …" she said through gritted teeth. Balled fists hung past her trousers just inches from the curb.

Her cousin ignored her. "She doesn't want you to find out that she has been helping people here cross the border illegally since she was twelve.

want more? click here for the first three chapters!

Readers are raving:

“I liked it so much, I read it three times!” - Jaylen Suther, 10^th-grader, Irmo, S.C.

“Armed with a powerful story, stunning language, and a belief that right must triumph, Sam Morton weaves a tale of laughter, passion, and fury in Betrayed. Don’t miss a word. Sam is an author on the move.” - Pat Conroy, bestselling author of The Prince of Tides, Beach Music, and The Great Santini

Best, Worst, and Craziest Aspects of being a writer—

The best part for me, without question, is the creative process. I have complete control of the story—who lives, who dies, what takes place in the action, the emotions and reactions of the characters. I especially like, when it’s time for a bad guy to get his due, coming up with exceedingly painful and humiliating ways for the bad guys to die. I think I have an over-developed sense of justice!

The worst part of writing for me is always having to figure out how to have something go on behind my main character’s back without him knowing it, but at the same time letting the reader know. Some writers find that easy to do. I find that it takes a deftness of skill I’ve not yet mastered and have to work at.

The craziest part of being a writer—and I’ve talked to enough writers to know I am not alone—is that, as much as I love the creative process, when it comes time to put my fingers on the keyboard and write, I do almost anything to avoid it! I do laundry. I clean the kitchen. I’ll even re-organize my office. I believe I’m intimidated to some degree. Writing makes us all vulnerable, and even though we have back space keys and delete buttons, once you’ve written it, at least in an emotional sense, it’s out there and hard to take back.

What's next for Sam and Austin?

Austin will have another fabulous adventure. He will see a wrong and try to make it right. He will encounter the wrath and resistance of those committing the wrong, and his life, and those of his friends, will most definitely be in danger. Will he survive it this time? Will his friends? You’ll have to read to find out!

You can buy your copy of Sam's book early at Quake, or Amazon, visit him at his website or follow him on Twitter and facebook.

Leave Sam a comment or question here at Teen Seen today and connect with this amazing talent!

Thanks Sam!

Soaked

Most of my friends agree that amusement parks are, quite simply, awesome. The legendary eighth grade trip to Hershey Park in June was no exception. (It might have had something to do with Hershey not only having the coasters but also Chocolate World.)

When my grade streamed off the buses upon arrival, the sky was providing a constant drizzle, but I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t let rain detract from the experience (I figured this would be easy, since I love rain). My friends and I grouped up and, after determining we were all “Jolly Ranchers”, hit the park.

The drizzle steadily turned to rain, which alternated between large drops and a soaking deluge. Ponchos sprouted up everywhere, but all I had was my sweatshirt, which turned useless pretty quickly. Most of my friends were wearing sneakers, but my best friend and I were in flip-flops, so we were slipping all over the walkways. After a while we gave up ducking for cover every time it poured and instead took those chances to get in lines. One of the most vivid memories I have of that trip is spinning around on the Claw and cold raindrops splattering my cheeks as I laughed. (Instead of screaming on thrill rides, I laugh my head off—if you’re ever next to someone on a roller coaster who seems to be in a fit of hysterics, she’s not insane, she’s just me.)

By the time we made the trek to Chocolate World for dinner I knew the true meaning of “soaked to the bone”. That, however, made the experience so much more memorable than a regular sunny day would have been—and now any time my mom tells me to “take an umbrella” I can say, "I survived Hershey Park—this is nothing!"

Kieryn
I'm the youngest Quake author ever! Look for Rain, coming soon from Quake!

I could go on and on about the rivalry with my brother, like how he used to shove me into a footstool when I was five or six, then sit on the lid until I almost passed out from lack of oxygen (which may account for my claustrophobia). But, I think I'll stick with the rivalry with Cynthia's brother and sister.

As you probably know, Cynthia and I are best friends, and have been since day-one. Her sister is seventeen - five years older, so we always make it a point to stay out of her way. As far back as I can remember, we never caused her one minute's trouble! So, why does she consider us more annoying than the red clay she scrapes off her shoes at the front door? What'd we ever do to her?

Just because we occasionally play records (full blast) while she's practicing her precious piano. Or, maybe, once or twice lose phone messages from her precious Rodney (ICK!).

Her brother's job is to pester us at every opportunity. I'll never forget spending one cold winter night at Cynthia's house. She had an electric blanket that I thought was pretty cool. Okay...maybe it was hot. Whatever. Anyway, before we went to sleep, her brother opened the door and whispered, "Gus. Be sure you don't move a muscle during the night or that blanket will catch on fire." I don't think I closed my eyes all night.

No matter how hard we try, we can't seem to get back at him. Any suggestions?

Your friend, Gus

(also known as Mary Cunningham)

For a limited time: Buy Ghost Light eBook from Echelon Press and a FREE copy of The Missing Locket, Book One in the Cynthia's Attic Fantasy Adventure series, will be included with your download. (both stories are in the Ghost Light file.)

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Discover the Magic in Cynthia's Attic ('tween time-travel series)

Schools, students and Sparrows

Sparrow Club (www.sparrowclubs.org) was introduced to our school a few years ago by my Language Arts colleague, Laura Queen.

The organization itself started several years ago when a Washington teacher’s son was diagnosed with cancer, and his insurance was unwilling to cover the cost of the treatment to save his life. When one of his students, a misfit boy with health problems of his own, emptied his bank account of fifty dollars to give to his teacher, it started a chain-reaction, and kids throughout the community eventually raised a quarter of a million dollars to pay for the treatment to save the life of their teacher’s son. Tragically, the misfit boy who started the whole thing died shortly after.

In the years since, it has flourished, giving schools the chance to ‘adopt’ a single child (their Sparrow) and do all kinds of things to raise money for him or her. But it isn’t so much a fundraiser as it is an opportunity for kids to think beyond themselves and perform community service to aid a single ailing child in need. When Laura first introduced the club to the staff, I was skeptical, especially since it had been my experience that the kids at my school were largely indifferent to anything beyond themselves.

How wrong I was. When we were first introduced to our Sparrow, a 13-year-old with leukemia, the outpouring was enormous. How the club works is this...kids go out into the community to perform community service (i.e. volunteering, cleaning up parks, etc.), and for every hour they work, sponsers contibute $10 help help the Sparrow’s family with medical costs, travel, etc. In addition, we held several events at the school (staff vs. students basketball, bake sales, car washes), and all the proceeds went to this single child we adopted. All told, we raised over $15,000, nearly all of it through the initiative of the students at our school, who thought beyond themselves and rallied for a welfare of a single child. Best of all...our Sparrow was eventually cured!

D.M. Anderson
http://www.dmanderson.blogspot.com

Viva La Mexico!

That's probably nowhere near right - or correct. But that's okay because the point of the blog isn't whether I'm bilingual (though the answer's obvious). This week we're all about the vacation here at Teen-Seen.
I spent most of my childhood summers with my grandparents in California (very cool for a kid from Nebraska) and we did lots of cool things during my annual vacation from school and parents. I even got to choose where to go for my twelfth birthday (Mexico)!!! I remember my grandma navigating and my grandpa insisting on the 'shortcut' and seeing parts of the country (two countries, really) that I never would've seen otherwise. We did Disneyland and Mt. Baldy and the Ringling Brothers circus along with all sorts of things like the drive through the Wild Animal Park of San Diego...yeah summers were AWESOME!


But every summer started with the me and the 'rents on the annual trek from Lincoln, Nebraska to our church Family Camp in Colorado Springs, Colorado. We would drive all day from Lincoln to Ogallala. Dad would ALWAYS roll down the windows as we passed cattle farms and say 'smell that money!' We'd stay overnight in Ogallala, take in dinner and the Wild West show complete with a gun fight and a singing and dancing in the saloon. Then the next morning we'd drive into Colorado, eventually finding our cabin in the shadow of Pike's Peak.

It was the only place I ever saw dad smoke (the pipe kept the mosquitos away). There was the impromptu Christmas in July when it actually snowed (enough to have snowball fights at the main lodge). And oh, the fond memories of learning to play guitar and autoharp, and memorizing the silly lyrics to songs that would drive dad crazy all the way home.

Yup, all those experiences - and more - had significant impact on my life. Now the memories even impact my books. Bleak predictions aside, California has NOT fallen into the ocean in my fictional 2096 just because of those great times!

Hope your summer brings you incredible memories!
Regan
author of Justice Incarnate, the Pixie Chicks and more...available at Quake!

Nuts!

Diet? I don't need no stinkin' diet!

So many PET PEEVES, so little time. Okay, here’s the latest.

Squirrels. And, no, I don’t consider them pets...just peeves! Not ordinary squirrels. These pests climb my almost three-story deck to feast on sunflower seeds meant for the cardinals, golden finches, woodpeckers and various other colorful birds that are, in turn, meant to entertain us.

Instead of yellow, red, and blue birds, we get ugly gray squirrels hanging on the feeder...feeding their ugly appetites.

It’s gotten so bad, that my husband spotted one the other day spread-eagled, all four feet clinging to the feeder...fast asleep! The brazen little varmint got so dang full, he had to take a nap!

Imagine his surprise when sweet dreams about rivers of acorns were interrupted by a plastic flyswatter bopping him on the head. Mr. Piggy Squirrel turned into Rocky, the Flying Squirrel.

I can just hear him complaining about the management: “What kinda B & B is this, anyway? Can’t a guy have some lunch and take a little nap in peace?”

Please...anyone, let me know if you have a solution, or if you just want to post your pet peeve of the week. Comments always welcome!

Author, Mary Cunningham is the author of the award-winning series, “Cynthia’s Attic.” The fourth book in the series, The Magician’s Castle, will be published by Quake, Dec. 1.

Use The Clutch!

My first car! Okay, so it belonged to my mom & dad. And, no, neither one of those men are my dad. I just didn't have a decent picture of the real thing...okay??

"Use the clutch!" Words that still echo in my ear coming from Mr. Cato, my high school driver's ed instructor.

Clutch? I don't see no stinkin' clutch! Which is probably why the "training" car with the manual (on the steering column back then) transmission died halfway up the steep Southern Indiana hill. (In case you're unfamiliar with the terrain, the southern part of the state is known for rolling hills and valleys.)

"Put on the brake," he said, through clenched teeth. (Mr. Cato had virtues. Patience was not one)

Note 1: He was also the varsity basketball coach, known for ripping off his sports jacket and hurling it to the sidelines within 10 seconds of the start of the game.

"Now, ease out on the clutch as you push down on the gas pedal."

Clunk! Clunk! Sputter! Sputter...die....

(Sigh) "Put on the brake...again. Ease up on the clutch and give the car some GAS!!"

"Yes sir." I gulp, glancing sideways toward the passenger seat. Whew. Mr Cato is in a short sleeve shirt. No jacket to hurl toward me.

Meanwhile, Jimmy, Pat and Crissy were in the back seat, laughing hysterically...which wasn't helping my concentration. I shot them a dirty look, which brought on more laughter and a couple of snorts.

Finally! I made it up that hill, only to encounter another steeper climb on the other side. I exhaled. Can I possibly make it up a second hill? But, then it came to me. More speed! No need to use the clutch. This driving thing won't get the best of me!

I floored it! Up that hill, down another and up the next. Yep, I'm getting the hang of this.

Mr. Cato's death grip on the dash and silence from the back seat, said it all.

Note 2: Don't try this at home! Back in my day, the roads were practically empty and we had all the real estate in two counties to practice our driving skills. And, in case you're interested, here's a real picture of my first car! In black and white because we didn't take color Polaroids in the "olden days." F-85, red (see pic at top) and white Oldsmobile with red bucket seats, and automatic transmission.

Got a story about your first driving experience? Leave a comment!

Mary Cunningham, author Cynthia's Attic Series
Mary Cunningham Books
Cynthia's Attic Blog

Gossipy Minds Want To Know

Gus and Cynthia "Dishing The Dirt"

Cynthia and I don’t gossip, never did. We just get mad at each other and say stupid things. But, plenty of our friends do. And, this is waaaay back in the 60s! We'll gossip about things like: “Cindy’s wearing Tom’s letterman jacket!” Or, “I saw Mike walk Linda to Geometry class.”

Gossip is more difficult in mine and Cynthia's time. You actually have to physically whisper in someone’s ear! Ewwww! Oh, sure we always have the phone, but it's impossible to say anything private with my nosy brother eavesdropping. And, believe it or not, I can't take the phone into my room because the receiver is connected by a cord! I know. Hard to imagine.

You guys have it so easy today with email and texting.

“OMG. Did u c C n T :-<>” (for those of you over age 30, the symbol :-<> shows surprise).

I may just be an old-fashioned, 1960s twelve-year-old (soon to be thirteen!), but the statement above seems to lose something in the translation. On the other hand, texting might keep flu bugs from spreading. Waaahh...choooo!

Still, Cynthia and I are gonna have to study this texting thing. I just figured out that lol doesn’t mean, “lots of love!” Now, there’s a gossip topic! Think of all the people I woulda thought were sending me “love” before I realized they were laughing with (at) me! LOL!

Getting off the gossip track, so I’ll bring this puppy back around (somehow).

Do you like gossip, as long as it doesn’t involve you? Or, is gossip always mean? What’s your favorite way to gossip? Ear-to-ear ? Text-to-text?

Gossipy minds want to know.

BFF, Gus

Mary Cunningham Books

Quake

Cynthia's Attic Blog

Can I get paid to game?

"You'll never make a living doing that."

I don't honestly know if parents still say that. Do they? My parents said that to me when I became obsessed with martial arts. This was back in the day when kung fu movies had just hit the United States and martial arts were still a relatively unknown activity. But if parents still say that –and about video games–I might beg to differ, slightly.

My kids, their cousins, and their friends grew up with video games, from the early days of Atari with a buddy sitting side-by-side to the now global-spanning MMPORPG sessions that can easily involve players from a bunch of different cities or countries, let alone the gamer sitting in the next chair. And are any of them making a living at it? Well, let me tell you about my nephew.

Games are his life and competition is in his blood. He was the kind of kid who would happily change the rules of a game if he started losing too badly. Since this usually happened at his house, his word tended to be law. He played board games, tried football, martial arts, and hockey, and he still loves skateboarding, but video games were his real love. Fortunately for him, though not the most outstanding student in high school (between you, me and the hall monitor, I think he was bored most of the time), he did have an innate ability for math and for physics.

When he graduated high school, he set his sights on a vocational school that promised a software engineer degree in 18 months (that's right, 18: count 'em) and tough as it was, he finished. (It's called Full Sail. Check it out!) Upon graduation he was hired as a programmer for audio at one of the biggest game companies in the country. This suited him for a whole number of reasons. For one thing, it was about games. He was surrounded by like-minded individuals. For another, because the game was the thing, to borrow a phrase from Shakespeare, other things he might consider unimportant were also deemed unimportant by his employer. Like a working dress code. My nephew goes to work in a hoodie, his sweatpants, and his flip-flops, and it doesn’t matter because he knows his job and he's darn good at it. Not only that, the first company he worked for was the kind of place that closed shop and sent all the employees to see the first Spiderman movie on opening day because Spiderman was going to become a game. And to top it all off, he makes more in a year than I ever will unless I wake up one morning and find I've morphed into JK Rowling. Well, okay, he doesn't make as much as all that. But he can certainly hold his own against all his former classmates who commute downtown and wear suits and ties. Especially since he recently allowed himself to be hired away to another company at still a higher salary rate.

Am I preaching here that everyone can make a living in video gaming? Of course not. But I have a feeling if you really love games and are willing to work for it, you'll stand a better chance at earning a living doing that than I would have at becoming a female Bruce Lee.

Talk about gaming for a living.

*Click on Riddick to Pre-order the new Atari Game

Ophelia Julien is a Young Adult author who currently lives in Illinois. Her short story, HUNTING SPIRITS, will be released from Quake in April 2009.