The Secret Language

As a writer, I often try to think back to when I was ten years old to see what was going on inside my head. Nothing much in the way of bad happened. I remember playing with lots of Barbies, and of course, making their clothes. I remember cutting out figures from the Sears and Eaton's catalogue and creating my own paper dolls. I spent hours, no days, creating wonderful wardrobes for let's say, travelling to the Far East or maybe just to Toronto for the Royal Winter Fair.
But I also remember reading.

Growing up on a farm, miles from my nearest friend and with only the CBC as the choice television channel, I had lots of time to read.
During the summertime, my family would pack up the car and head to Keppoch, our little Island Camelot. We'd stay in a run down cottage and I made sure I packed my books. I remember loving The Secret Language by Ursula Nordstrom. I loved everything about this book. Girl travels to a boarding school, meets another girl, midnight feasts and secret languages ensue...you get it. Yummy stuff for a young farm girl. I marvelled at the ability Mrs. Nordstrom had for creating such a wonderful book. I think in many ways, traces of inspiration from The Secret Language snuck into my subconscious when writing my own book. I want girls to read "Greenwood Girls" like I read "The Secret Language."

My birthday is coming up and for my own personal pleasure , I ordered second hand copies of The Trouble with Jenny's Ear by Oliver Butterworth and The Secret Language .

I plan to set them both on my daughter's bedside table. I won't force them on her and even if she does read them, she might not find them as enrapturing as I did. With the selection of amazing books on store shelves, and the hyped up level to which authors write to hook their readers, I doubt the old style books will even appeal to many of today's kids. But I'll try.

Le-le- le- bosa! (translation for today's readers: Awesome)