I stare at my empty project on Scratch. What in the world do I write? I could write fantasy, but I have to think of all the goblins and elfs and mermaids and other magical characters and that hurts my brain a lot. I could write nonfiction, but I have to see all the articles and texts and facts and that will tire me out. I could write realistic fiction, but I have NO FUDGING IDEA what it will be about. Then it hit me - what if I write an autobiography? I could tell readers about my life: the events, the suprises, the drama, written by the one and only me! Then it hit me again - I'm too young; Nothing good has happened in my life. "What the fudge do you mean, Sarah?" My mother asked. "Plenty of things happened in your life. You went to visit your aunt, you made a big speech about the Civil War, your birthday 2 weeks ago-" "I GET IT! But nothing awesome, is what I mean." My mom smiled. "I know for a fact that you're awesome." She kissed me on the cheek. "Now get to bed." UGH. My mom didn't even give me any good ideas. all she gave me was flattery! For the rest if the night, I thought as hard as I could to end my writer's block. Eventually, I drifted off into my very, VERY weird dream. I dreamt of being a superhero: Saving the world from bad guys, all that stuff. But I had a sidekick named Lorrie. She helped me through anything, whether it was something small like helping a cat that got stuck on a tree or something big like saving people from a fire. Before I even knew it, I woke up and it was morning with a blue and sunny sky. I stretched. But then I realized someone else was in the room. She had a green cape and bodysuit that both had a red "L" nice and big on it. She also had brown hair in a bun and was a little taller than me. She smiled and said, "Hey, boss." TO BE CONTINUED...
