Building Word Power copyright 2026 by Don Taco

copyright 2026 by Don Taco

 

Building Word Power

Chapter One

 

 

         My name is Kanesha. I'm eleven years old. This is my first book. I'm going to try to be a writer. No, that's wrong. I'm going to be a writer. That's better. I read a lot, so it makes sense to me to try to emulate what I admire. Aren't those great words? My English teacher, Mrs. Valker, (not like Valkyrie, or Walker. Like Whacker,) has us learn five new words a week from a book called, "Building Word Power." It's a boring book. It's just words, and their definitions. Nothing happens. Nothing gets described. No insights into the human condition are offered. But they're difficult words, and it's supposed to benefit us to learn them. We get quizzed on them every Friday. It might be on this weeks' words, or on any of the older ones. It's not easy. The class struggles with it. Even me, and, like I said, I read a lot. I already know a lot of words, because I've seen them in books. Sometimes, I have to stop, look a word up in the dictionary, back up a page, and start again. But less and less often. Learning words isn't easy, but I think it's a good thing. And fun. A lot of my classmates don't think it's fun, and call me a weirdo. So be it.

         My mother despairs a bit about how much time I spend reading. She values reading, of course, but she thinks we should all be well-rounded and go out and play and get exercise as well. I'm the oldest of five, and we're all bookworms. Mom drives us all to the public library every Saturday morning in the station wagon, and we stock up on books for the week. But she has imposed a strict limit of seven books for the week. So we cheat. We consult, and we each pick our seven, and then we pass them around and read each other's books. My next youngest brother, Danelda, and I benefit the most from it, because we're older, and our tastes run along the same lines. We have nearly devoured the entire Science Fiction section of the library, and don't even bother any more with the Young Adult shelves, which tend to be trivial and condescending. Except, of course, the series about the shy stegosaurus, who could hide by standing still and disappearing into the cliffs, and was only friendly with two particular schoolchildren. We read those books over and over. Wishing we were those two children, I suppose.

         The inspiration to move from reader to writer came when the library had a special event, a Meet The Author session that featured a writer my brother and I were very fond of. He wrote stories that weren't 'for children,' but were often about children, as if, somehow, he had managed to grow up without forgetting what it was like to be young. Simple stories about incredibly important things that adults forgot or never understood, such as what it was like to get a new pair of sneakers early in the summer. Of course, there were copies of his book for sale, and after he spoke for a while we all lined up to have them signed. I don't know what sparked it, but when I got up to the table, I calmly said, "I'm going to be a writer." He cocked his head, considered me briefly, set down his pen, clasped his hands together, looked thoughtful for a moment, leaned in, and spoke. "Well then," he said, "I'd better give you some advice. This is a bit of a two-edged sword. Writing probably won't make you rich. Be sure you have a way to pay the bills. But, never let it interfere with the writing. The dream is the important thing." He picked his pen back up, and asked my name, then wrote on the flyleaf, "To Kanesha, (he even spelled it right without asking,) The dream is the important thing." 

 

         That will be the title of my book.

 

         The Dream Is The Important Thing.