Deep

Chapter 1brbrBirdiebrbrHere I am again, floating in a warm bubble bath, hoping for something heinous or preposterous or even gruesome to happen. I need that, to write my book. If it weren't for the number one rule, "Write about what you know," I'd have written my book already.brbrEach time I sink to the bottom of the tub, my eyes bulge, my hair billows like scarlet seaweed, and new ideas burst in my head. Like colorful bubbles-like jets of brilliance-like hatchling wordpearls! My brain's like one of those magic crystals you drop in water and it turns into something fabulous.brbrIf I wanted to write a book about thirteen years of pleasantness mixed with disappointment, it would already be done. That's my life. I go to school, play soccer in the rain, try to keep my parents and my best friend, Kirin, entertained-and I take a lot of bubble baths.brbrYep, that's me. Birdie Sidwell: a small, brilliant person, who's no trouble at all to those around her.brbrEven my teachers love me. I get A's on all my stories.iVivid,/iis what they say about them. Next to my similes and metaphors they writeiOriginal! Quirky!/iOf course the stories are just practice for my book. My book will beibig./iHuge! It will have action and terror and maybe even sex! Publishers will beg me for it, movie producers will call me on their cell phones, and other bestselling authors will be my friends-brbr"Birdie?" Mom was tapping on the bathroom door. Her bathroom door, actually. I have my own bathroom, but hers always seems nicer. "Clean yet, honey? It's been an hour. . . . Your dad's hoping for a shower before bed."brbr"Clean as diamonds, Mom."brbrI flopped over on my stomach, sighing heavily as water lapped over the edge. "Your tub is a paradise of coconut oil."brbr"Yes, but you've got coconut oil in you