You Think it Can’t Happen? How My Two Picture Books Were Stolen by a Major Publisher

When I was in eighth grade I wrote a short story for our English teacher, Mr. Eul, a malevolent-looking man with a low brow and small beady eyes. We joked that he moonlighted as an axe murderer. But he was even scarier as an English teacher. He snapped girls’ bras in the hallway and terrorized us with menacing-sounding exams called “evaluations,” which turned out to be ordinary multiple-choice tests.

A few weeks later, Mr. Eul returned our stories. When he came to my desk, he stopped.

“You didn’t write this,” he said, holding up my work.

“Yes, I did,” I said. But my voice sounded very small, and Mr. Eul looked big. He also looked like he was enjoying himself.

“I don’t believe you.” His voice was hard, accusing.

The classroom was quiet. Everyone was watching, waiting to see what would happen next. Mr. Eul leaned over, his eyes boring into mine. “I’m going to keep this story so you won’t try to use it again in high school,” he said.

I couldn’t find the words to explain that I would never “use” a story again when there were so many new ones waiting to be written.

According to my teacher, my story was too good for me to have written. Inside, I was seething. Just wait. Someday I’ll be a real writer. Then you’ll be sorry!

I did become a “real” writer of children’s books, essays, and a memoir. I have published many picture books in rhyme, and…