by James Howe
Contents
Dear Howie Monroe
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 1: “A Sunny Day”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 2: “The Strange Sound”
Chapter 3: “The Terrible and Creepy Transformation of Delilah!”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 4: “That Strange Sound you Heard was a Flying Saucer!”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 5: “Delilah, the Intelligent Squirrel”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 6: “The Horrible Fate of Centerville”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 7: “The day The sky Turned White”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 8: “Delilah to The Rescue”
Chapter 8: “Delilah to The Rescue”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Howie’s Writing Journal
Howie’s Writing Journal
Chapter 8: “Delilah to the Rescue!”
Chapter 9: “Drool for Your Life!”
Howie’s Writing Journal
Howie Monroe and the Doghouse of Doom Excerpt
About James Howe
To Marvia Boettcher, who has the best laugh west of the Mississippi
—J.H.
For Mary Jane
—B.H.
Dear Howie Monroe:
I am in receipt of the manuscript of your book, It Came from Beneath the Bed! I found the tale gripping and would be honored if you would allow me to publish it. However, I believe it would work best as part of a series. Please send me another book as soon as possible. When I have received it, I will send you a contract and a check.
Sincerely yours,
The Editor
HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL
Wow! Uncle Harold sent my first book, It came from Beneath the Bed!, to his editor, and he’s going to publish it! Now I’m not just a writer, I’m author!!!!
The only problem is, I have to write another book.
Writing one book was Fun. But having to write another one sounds like work!
What if I used up all my ideas on the first book? what if I never have another idea again? Ever?!
Wait a minute, I can’t give up before I even start. Let’s See. The first book was called It Came from Beneath the Bed!, So maybe I can call the Second one It Came from Behind the Refrigerator!
or It Came from Inside the Garbage can!
or It came from Around the Corner of the woodshed when the moon was Full and the zombies Howled!
Good one. or . . .
I’m getting a headache. It came From too much thinking!
Who am I kidding? I’m not an author, I’m just a lovable, adorable, Smart, and talented wirehaired dachshund puppy who got lucky.
What if I were an author, though? I mean, like a person author? what would it be like to be someone other than me?
What if I could be turned into someone else?
But why? Why would somebody want to turn me into anything other than the lovable, adorable, smart, and talented wirehaired dachshund puppy that I am?
Uncle Harold, who has written a whole bunch of books, says the best Way to make a Story happen is by asking lots of questions.
So, okay, what if there was somebody who wanted to turn cute little puppies and other people into something else?
And what if whoever it was came from someplace really far away? Like Cleveland. or mars.
That’s it! I know what my next book will be!
Who says Writing is hard?
Invasion of the Mind Swappers from Asteroid 6!
By Howie Monroe
CHAPTER 1:
“A SUNNY DAY”
It was a sunny day in the peaceful little village of Centerville. Howie, a lovable, adorable, smart, and talented wirehaired dachshund puppy (who was also humble), was on his way to his friend Delilah’s house.
It sure is a sunny day, the observant puppy thought. On a day like this, nothing can go wrong.
Just then, he heard a strange sound. Was it thunder? Impossible! Howie shrugged and continued on his way until he spotted Delilah basking on her back on the sidewalk in front of her house. “Delilah!” he yipped.
“Howie!” Delilah yipped back.
It was wonderful how easily they communicated.
“I was hoping you would come over today,” Delilah said, putting her paws on the ground instead of up in the air, where they’d been just moments before. “Do you want to play Rip-the-Rag? Or how about Knock-Each-Other-Down?”
How could Howie decide? They were both his favorite games! “You choose,” he told Delilah.
Delilah sighed. “Oh, Howie,” she said, “you are such a gentleman.”
Howie had to agree.
Delilah tossed her blonde ears and cocked her head to one side. She thought and thought. Finally, she said, “Thinking is hard work.”
Howie nodded. Delilah was beautiful, but not very bright. “Take your time,” he told her.
Delilah thought some more and finally said, “I think we should play—”
But her sentence was cut off by the strange sound Howie had heard on his way over. “Thunder?” he wondered aloud.
“I don’t know how to play that one,” said Delilah. “Will you teach me?”
“No,” Howie said. “I was talking about that strange sound. Did you hear it?”
“Oh, that,” said Delilah. “It’s probably just a lawn mower.”
Howie shook his head. “It’s not like any lawn mower I ever heard. I think we should go investigate.”
“All right,” said Delilah. “But then can we play Rip-the-Rag?”
“Sure,” Howie told her as they set off in the direction of the strange sound.
Little did he know that they might never play Rip-the-Rag—or any of their favorite games—again!!!!
HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL
I showed my first chapter to Uncle Harold.
I said “so what do you think, Uncle Harold? Huh, huh, huh?”
He said, “I think you’re using too many adjectives about a certain character just the way you did in your -first book, but I like the way you ended the chapter. The cliff-hanger is excellent”.
I’m glad he liked my cliff-hanger, but I’m beginning to suspect that Uncle Harold has a hang-up about adjectives.
Then he asked me if the strange sound was a can opener. I figure he asked that because he was hungry. Of course, Uncle Harold is always hungry. I am too. We’re dogs. But it’s not a can opener.
Oh, even though Uncle Harold didn’t say anything about it, I decided I’d better change Deliah’s character. My real friend Delilah (who is beautiful and smart, too) got angry with me after I wrote my first book because of the way I’d made her character kind of stupid. I promised I’d make her smarter in this book.
So I guess I should go back and rewrite the last chapter. But I don’t want to. I’m lazy.
Uncle Harold says this is not a good trait in a writer.
I reminded him I’m am author now. He said I need to watch out for arrogance. I told him if I saw any coming at me, I’d duck.
He didn’t laugh. I think his hang-up about adjectives is making him lose his sense of humor.
CHAPTER 2:
“THE STRANGE SOUND”
“That was fun, pretending to be dumb,” said Delilah as she jogged alongside Howie. “But you know that I’m really smart, don’t you?”
“Of course,” said Howie.
Delilah said, “Do you know what twelve to the fourth power divided by seventeen is? I do. Do you know who the sixth president of
the United States was? I do. Can you spell antidisestablishmentarianism? I can.”
“Watch out for arrogance,” Howie said.
Delilah ducked.
Soon they came to an open field.
“Listen,” said Howie, whose keen ears had picked up the strange sound again.
Delilah squinted. “I hear it, too,” she said. “It sounds larger than a lawn mower. But it is definitely the sound of something moving. I would say that whatever it is, is moving a fraction less than the speed of sound itself. Of course, the speed of sound is not a constant. It varies depending on the medium in which it travels. If we assume that the sound we are hearing is traveling in the medium of air, then we must take into account such factors as air pressure, the temperature, and, obviously, the purity of the air itself, which is no small matter given the effect of pollution these days. Now, at sea level—”
“You are too smart,” Howie said. “I’m going to have to revise you.”
Delilah had no answer to this.
Just then, a weird voice said, “Cease, earthlings!”
Howie and Delilah looked around. There was no one in sight. They took a few more steps into the field.
“I repeat,” said the weird voice. “Cease, earthlings!”
“Wh-h-ho said that?” the brave but momentarily flustered Howie demanded.
“It is I!” came the answer.
“Whoever it is knows the rudiments of good grammar,” Delilah whispered to Howie.
Howie made a mental note to revise Delilah soon.
“It’s coming from over there,” Delilah pointed out, indicating a large tree to their right.
Howie followed Delilah’s gaze. “Trees don’t talk,” he observed.
“That is true,” the weird voice responded. “But I do!”
Suddenly, a squirrel scampered down the trunk from where it had been hiding among the tree’s branches.
“It’s just a squirrel,” said Howie.
“Yes,” said Delilah. “But that is no ordinary squirrel. That is a squirrel . . . FROM ASTEROID 6!!!!!!”
CHAPTER 3:
“THE TERRIBLE AND CREEPY TRANSFORMATION OF DELILAH!”
The squirrel threw back its head and chortled menacingly. In the process, it began choking on a nut it had forgotten was stored in one of its cheeks, but that little episode didn’t last long.
“So!” it said, spitting out bits of nut. “You are a smart earthling! You know I am from Asteroid 6!”
“Of course,” Delilah said. “Anyone who has ever studied intergalactic biology recognizes a squirrel from Asteroid 6 when she sees one!”
Howie looked at Delilah in amazement.
“Well,” said the squirrel, “that is where your so-called intelligence has played a trick on you!”
“What do you mean?” Delilah asked.
“Yeah, what do you mean?” Howie echoed. “My girlfriend’s intelligence is not so-called. It’s real!”
Delilah sighed and fluttered her long and beautiful eyelashes. “Did you call me your girlfriend?” she asked. “Oh, Howie!”
“Oh, Delilah,” Howie said.
“Oh, brother,” said the squirrel from Asteroid 6.
Howie and Delilah continued to gaze into each other’s eyes.
“I’ll wait,” the squirrel said.
“Oh, sorry,” said the romantic but also level-headed Howie. “You were saying?”
“Why say anything when actions speak louder than words?” said the squirrel. A blue circle of light began to shimmer in the center of his forehead.
Howie and Delilah were riveted to the spot. Not only that, they couldn’t move.
The blue light grew brighter and brighter, and then . . . SUDDENLY, IT SHOT OUT OF THE SQUIRRELS FOREHEAD AND WENT STRAIGHT TO DELILAH’S FOREHEAD! In a flash, the light was gone!
“Delilah!” Howie, the emotionally sensitive yet manly puppy, cried out.
“Help me, Howie!” Delilah’s voice cried back.
But her voice wasn’t coming from the puppy at Howie’s side. It was coming from the squirrel!
HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL
Uncle Harold says he thinks what I’ve written is good, although he pointed out that I called Chapter 2 “the Strange sound,” but never told what the strange sound was. I said I’d fix it, no problem. (Writing is easy.)
Then he said he liked the part where Delilah’s voice comes out of the squirrel, but he wondered if my readers would believe that a squirrel could talk in the first place. “Who ever heard of talking squirrels?” he asked.
I Said, “Who ever heard of talking dogs?”
“Good point,” he Said.
So, let’s see, I have to come up with a way to let the reader know what the strange sound is, and, oh yeah, I’m definitely going to have to make Delilah not so smart. I mean, where does she come up with all that Stuff about the speed of sound and intergalactic biology?!
CHAPTER 4:
“THAT STRANGE SOUND YOU HEARD WAS A FLYING SAUCER!”
“That strange sound you heard was a flying saucer!” said the squirrel. Except its voice was coming out of Delilah’s mouth.
Howie looked back and forth between Delilah and the squirrel. Which one was which?
“Are you the squirrel from Asteroid 6?” he asked Delilah.
“Yes,” said Delilah—or the puppy formerly known as Delilah. “But I’m not really a squirrel, either. I swapped minds with a squirrel. And now I swapped again with your friend.”
“Then who are you really?” Howie asked.
“I told you, he’s a squirrel from Asteroid 6!” Delilah shouted out from where she was hanging upside down on the tree trunk.
Howie’s head was spinning. He was thinking it would be a good time for a nap, but he didn’t want to lose the reader’s interest.
“That is where you are wrong, Miss Smarty Pants!” said the squirrel (or whatever he was) from Delilah’s mouth. “You may think you know so much with your intergalactic biology, but I am not a squirrel at all. I’m a Mind Swapper from Asteroid 6!”
There was a thundering roar like a herd of buffalo or the anger of the gods on Mount Olympus or what it would sound like if you lived underneath a bowling alley.
Suddenly, there, in the middle of a field of wildflowers on a beautiful summer’s day in the peaceful little village of Centerville, where up until this moment life had been normal and calm and people left their houses unlocked and kids played outside until dusk when their mothers called out, “Tommy, Susie, dinner!” and they would come running (if their names were Tommy or Susie)—there, there, before Howie’s amazed and befuddled (yet piercing and highly photogenic) eyes, a giant object the shape of a food dish, glowing with a blinding white light, rose up and hovered in the air.
“That,” said the Mind Swapper from Asteroid 6, “is the Mother Ship.”
“Where’s the father ship?” Howie asked. “Stuck in traffic?”
Apparently, the Mind Swapper from Asteroid 6 was not in the mood for a joke. “Silence, earthling!”
Without warning, the Mind Swapper bolted in the direction of the Mother Ship.
The brave and courageous, not to mention daring, Howie had no choice but to follow. It may have been a Mind Swapper, but it was wearing Delilah’s body.
“Wait for me!” cried out the equally brave and courageous, although not quite as daring, Delilah, who was wearing the body of a squirrel.
A door opened on the side of the glowing spacecraft.
“Enter!” said an echoey voice that sounded like it was coming from inside an overturned garbage pail. (Howie knew this from the time he’d gotten stuck inside an overturned garbage pail and had had to endure the sound of his own incessant barking bouncing back at him.) (Until it occurred to him to stop barking.) (And knock over the garbage pail.) (And go home.)
Steps lowered to the ground. The Mind Swapper ran up the steps. Howie gasped as he watched Delilah—or her body—disappear from sight.
“Enter!!” the overturned
-garbage-pail voice commanded.
“Don’t!!” Delilah (the squirrel) called out.
Howie put one paw on the first step. He felt himself being pulled against his will toward the inside of the flying food dish. He had to save Delilah!
But who was Delilah? Was she the beautiful puppy harboring the evil mind of the creature from Asteroid 6? Or was she the keenly intelligent brain trapped in the body of a tree-climbing rodent? And if Howie went aboard the spacecraft, what would protect him from having his own mind swapped? But if he didn’t go inside the spacecraft, how would Delilah’s body and mind get back together? But if he did go aboard, would he be taken to Asteroid 6 and never see his family again? But if he didn’t go aboard, would he regret it for all the days of his life? (And if he doesn’t stop asking all these questions, will we ever get to the next chapter?)
Suddenly, the spacecraft began to shake.
“Too late!!” cried the voice from inside.
Howie tumbled backward onto the ground as the steps were sucked back into the Mother Ship and, with a great roar, the spacecraft lifted up, up, up, and then . . . vanished before his eyes!
The air was full of silence. And pollen.
Howie sneezed. “Delilah . . .” he called out weakly.
“Right here,” said a voice behind him.
Howie turned and saw that Delilah (the squirrel) was nibbling on something she held in her tiny paws.
“These acorns aren’t half bad,” she told him. “Care to try one?”
HOWIE’S WRITING JOURNAL
Oh, great. Now Delilah’s not speaking to me again.
“A squirrel?” she said. “you’ve turned me into a squirrel? And before that, you made me as stupid as you did in the first book, and then you made me so smart I sounded like I had a computer for a brain! You know what I think your problem is, Howie? I think your problem is that you don’t know how to write girl characters!”
