Caribbean Children's Fiction

CHUBBY

2018-09-06T15:21:00.001-05:00

CHUBBY

© HAZEL CAMPBELL 2017

12 stories in12 months

Prompt: JOY | Wordcount: 1500 |

I looked up when I realized that Miss Williams was talking to me. "Some of us know so much we can be doodling while I am teaching."

I quickly closed my notebook, but knew that she would demand that I show her what I had been drawing and then ridicule me before the class.

And she did. She called me to stand in front of the class and laughed at my half-drawn superhero. She showed the class and said, "Pity our chubby friend here can’t be as handsome and athletic as these figures he likes to draw."

The class tittered nervously. They all admired my drawings but knew that Miss Williams wanted them to laugh at me. If they didn't, the whole class would be in trouble. She made my time in grade four the most unpleasant year I ever spent in school. I don’t know why, but it seemed that she disliked fat children, and me most of all. Because of her, everybody in Grade four called me Chubby. Much later in life, I realized that teachers can be bullies, too.

I disliked her as much as she disliked me. So much so, that on Teacher's Day when we were supposed to honor our teachers and tell them thanks by way of gifts, I got a small revenge.

My mother had given me a bouquet for my teacher. I didn’t know their names, but I thought the flowers were pretty - red and white and orange. I wished I didn't have to give them to Miss Williams. When we were all lined up to enter the classroom with our gifts, I looked around and saw Mrs. Kirkano, our janitor.

Mrs. Kirkano was very kind to all of us. She didn’t scold if someone got sick in the classroom and she had to clean it up. She would break up a fight without reporting it to the teacher. She would listen to our problems and help when she could. She knew that Miss Williams gave me a hard time and I think she was sorry for me. That morning, something in my brain said that she was more deserving of the bouquet than the teacher who didn't like me. I broke from the line and ran and put it in her hands.

"Here, Mrs. Kirkano," I said. "You deserve this more than any teacher." I was the only child in my class who didn't have a gift for our teacher that day, and I think that made matters worse for me, but I didn’t care.

The next day, Mrs. Kirkano handed me a paper bag. "I made donuts last night," she said. "These are for you. My grandmother taught me to make them like this. I think you will like them."

When I looked inside the bag, I saw that these donuts had no holes in them. They were covered with a dusting of fine powdered white sugar. I told her thanks and as I was walking away, she said, "Hey, Chubby, you won't be chubby forever." I gave her a disbelieving smile.

I don’t know if Mrs. Kirkano's words were a prayer, a prediction, a hope, or just encouragement. Whatever it was, in my memory it marked a turning point in my life. It started with me sharing one of the donuts with my friend, Harvey. This was something I would never have done before. Then, I stopped being afraid of gym classes and by the end of that school year, I was getting noticeably smaller, so much so that my mother had to buy me new clothes, and even though she complained I knew she was pleased. The impasse between me and Miss Williams continued until my family moved from Desoter, and in grade five I met a new teacher and made new friends who didn’t call me Chubby.

*****

Fast forward many years later. Now a struggling artist on my way to an exhibition, I was passing nearby Desoter and decided to see how the town had changed. I still had a sweet tooth that led me to stop at a cake shop which I didn’t remember from when I lived there. I immediately noticed donuts similar to the ones Mrs. Kirkano had given me. I had never forgotten the heavenly feeling in my mouth when I bit into it, nor the soft-flowing filling setting my tongue dancing with delight. The proprietor of the shop turned out to be one of my old Grade four schoolmates, who didn't recognize me until I reminded him of the name Chubby, and our teacher Miss Williams. Nobody who passed through her class ever forgot her cruelty – given or escaped.

I asked him about these special donuts and he told me that they were produced by a bakery nearby. I ordered one with my coffee and time reversed to that chubby little boy savoring the taste of Mrs. Kirkano's donut. Charlie said that they were very popular in the county and sold out very quickly. I was lucky to have one of the last batch he had received that day. Curious, I asked him to tell me more about the bakery. He asked if I remembered Mrs. Kirkano, the janitor, and said she had started it but her daughter now ran the business. I asked for directions and he said, "Turn right three blocks down. You can’t miss it, about a mile in. There's a big sign which says Home of Chubby's Donuts. They give you joy."

I knew I was in for an emotional experience even before I stopped at the bakery. Underneath the sign was a poster in a glass case which told the story of the origin of the bakery.

The Legend

One day a small chubby boy came up to me, handed me a bouquet of flowers and said I deserved it more than his teacher. I was so touched that I went home and baked a batch of the extra special donuts from the recipe my grandmother had taught me. Next day I gave this little boy who they called Chubby two of the donuts. It was lunchtime and I will never forget the joy on his face when he tasted my donut. That set me thinking. The next day I resigned from my job as janitor at the school and started making my donuts for sale and so the business was born. That little boy reversed my doubts about making use of my Grandmother's gift of her unique recipe. He brought me joy. Thank you Chubby. Each donut is dedicated to you.

I was wiping my eyes when a teenager opened the glass door and asked, "Can I help you, Mister?"

I could barely answer, but I told her I would like to speak to the owner of the bakery. She told me to come in and spoke into the intercom: "Mom, can you come here, please. Someone to see you."

Somehow I expected to see an old Mrs. Kirkano. Instead, a middle-aged woman approached me. Her expression said she didn't like being disturbed.

"I . . . I was expecting to see Mrs. Kirkano," I stammered.

"Oh dear," she replied. "Mum died a few years back. Maybe I can help you?"

I didn’t know where to begin so I just blurted out. "I used to go to Desoter Elementary. They used to call me Chubby."

It took a minute for the information to sink in. Then she exclaimed. "You are the boy! You are that Chubby!"

She looked at my trim figure (sweet tooth notwithstanding) and couldn’t make a connection.

"Yes," I said. "I was the fat boy who gave her the bouquet because she really deserved it more than my teacher."

She came across and hugged me. "Mother would have been so pleased to see you. She often spoke of you and wondered what had happened to you. Did you read The Legend?"

"Yes," I said, my eyes threatening to spill tears again. "She gave me a present, too," I said. "More than the donuts. She said I wouldn't be Chubby forever, and that started me on the right track."

"What a present to give a fat boy. Donuts!" She laughed. "But Mum was like that. She always saw the potential in people. Come," she told her daughter, "Take a picture of us."

So we posed, standing close and holding hands like brother and sister.

I never reached the exhibition. Instead, I returned home and started a painting of a small chubby boy handing a woman, standing beside her mop and bucket, a bouquet of pretty flowers wrapped in shiny paper. They are looking at one another with mutual admiration.

The painting won first prize in a national competition, and my career took off. From beyond the grave, Mrs. Kirkano had also given me joy. I sent a copy of the painting to Chubby's Donuts bakery. I hope they put it in the glass case with The Legend.

******

New Cover

2018-07-23T08:47:00.000-05:00

CHANGED THE COVER ...... FOLLOW THE PEACOCK . A chapter book adventure. The peacock in the story is white.They are beautiful, but is it a 'duppy' peacock? Its antics are certainly strange.
myBook.to/whitepeacockinmaze

Pet Sanctuary

2018-07-12T03:09:00.001-05:00

"It's Raining Cats and Dogs"

Once upon a time, there was a big, dilapidated house on a hill overlooking a small village. Only a grumpy grandfather and his grandson, George, lived in this house. The boy wanted a pet, either a cat or a dog, he pleaded. But Gramps was firm. “No pets!” he said. “No fish, no turtle, no hamster, no bird in a cage. And certainly not a cat or a dog.”

So, George, began to paper the walls of his room with pictures of cats and dogs wherever he found them – in books and magazines and newspapers. They became his wallpaper pets.

There were small cats and dogs, big cats and dogs, and many sizes in between. George gave them names. He talked to them, and imagined himself playing with them. Some nights, just before he fell asleep, he heard faint meows and gentle barking. This made him smile.

One night, a terrifying storm tore off the roof of the old house. Gramps and George took refuge in the cellar. Rain soaked the walls of George’s bedroom and melted his pet pictures. But, as the pictures peeled off the walls, the cats and dogs began to come to life. They ran to the cellar for safety. Gramps was shocked when George greeted them by name as they appeared. They surrounded him with their wet, furry smell, each trying to lick his hand or get a pat.

It had indeed rained cats and dogs that night.

Eventually, the cats and dogs overran the village as they increased in numbers. George, who became a vet, regularly visits his old village and his beloved cats and dogs. They return his love. George pays the few villagers who still live there to take care of his friends, and they renamed the village, Pet Sanctuary.

author.to/hazeldeecam

Check this

New book in the 4 Jamaican Musketeers series

2018-01-21T00:18:00.000-05:00

Book 1 Shiney is Missing getBook.at/Jamaicanmusketeers

The Adventures of Porty, Atty, Ram AND Darty. Four Jamaican Musketeers

The original three musketeers from the 7th Grade, do not want to recognize fellow student, Darty, as a fourth musketeer. He gets them into trouble and can be quite annoying. But he does lead them into exciting adventures.

Book 1 Shiney is Missing getBook.at/Jamaicanmusketeers

Book 2 Great House Ghosts myBook.to/musketeersbook2

NEW

Book 2 Great House Ghosts myBook.to/musketeersbook2

Update on writing fantasy for our children

2016-11-18T13:52:00.000-05:00

The joyful thing about fantasy is that there is no limitation on your imagination.

AND

There are no new stories, just different ways to tell them!

For example, as enchanting as some of our Jamaican River Mumma stories are, perhaps she could do with an update. What if she had hair extensions or Rasta locks and a name change to Sista Tall Hair? What could happen when, intrigued by dance hall music, she wants to come on land to dance (sounds a bit familiar?) What other characters would you put in that story? Would she go online to a search engine to find out how to change to human form? Or how to dance with a fishtail? Or start her own dancehall sessions on the reef?

What if our Cinderella (new name) falls in love with the prince who is the son of King Dudus? The glass slipper might be a lost cell phone instead! – "Call to be picked up at 12 o'clock", but her credit was stolen by the jealous sisters! ( The I-Twos!!) The ball of course would be a dancehall session. What adventures would she have? And could she influence change in the 'kingdom'?

There are no new stories, just different ways to tell them!

These three ebooks make an attempt at this. Check them and tell me what you think.

What if a genie washed up on a Jamaican beach in a shell instead of a bottle?

https://www.amazon.com/Whitni-Bondi-Pirate-Genie-Campbell-ebook/dp/B01DEC2EXG/

Here are the adventures of three Jamaican musketeers. Make that four musketeers when Darty joins them.


https://www.amazon.com/Shiney-Missing-Porty-Jamaican-Musketeers-ebook/dp/B00QWFM4F6/

The school play adapted from the story of Red Riding Hood becomes real life for Sasha with strange consequences.

https://www.amazon.com/Just-Play-Sasha-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B0155JHSXM

This story of Mr King's Daughter has its genesis in an Anancy/Anansi story.

https://www.amazon.com/Mr-Kings-Daughter-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B00ESEWI6I/

My New ebook for children- Follow the Peacock

2016-10-19T08:27:00.001-05:00

My New ebook for children 8 to 12 years.
An easy read story

https://www.amazon.com/Follow-Peacock-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B01M6UVYRZ

Phillip and Jodi have quite an adventure in a new high tech maze in Fi Mi Fun Park. It's so intense Jodi vows that nothing else will ever frighten her in life again. The white peacock, George, is quite a tricky one.

An easy to read story.

check it here:
https://www.amazon.com/Follow-Peacock-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B01M6UVYRZ

My ebooks for children on amazon

2016-08-29T09:20:00.000-05:00

ebooks can be read on your computer or phone by downloading a FREE app from amazon

Take a 'look inside' my ebooks for children on amazon. Enjoy reading with your children

It's Just a Play, Sasha

A sort of Red Riding Hood story

https://www.amazon.com/Just-Play-Sasha-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B0155JHSXM

Whitni and Bondi, the Pirate Genie

A genie washes up on a Jamaican beach - and meets his match in eight- year- old Whitni

https://www.amazon.com/Whitni-Bondi-Pirate-Genie-Campbell-ebook/dp/B01DEC2EXG/

Shiney is Missing: Porty, Atty, Ram & Darty (4 Jamaican Musketeers)

Three schoolboy musketeers, Porty, Atty, and Ram are joined by a very irritating fourth boy they call Darty as they set out to find the missing girl, Shiney

https://www.amazon.com/Shiney-Missing-Porty-Jamaican-Musketeers-ebook/dp/B00QWFM4F6/

ENJOY with your children

Somebody loves DROG, the Jamaican Dreggen

2016-07-26T16:04:00.000-05:00

Somebody really likes my DROG

New review on amazon
Top Customer Reviews
5.0 out of 5 stars
" AWESOME!
By Tomatomama on July 16, 2016
Format: Paperback
WONDERUL! A tale that all children should read. JUST GREAT! LOVE IT.
Thank You Hazel D. Campbell for another wonderful adventure"

https://www.amazon.com/Drog-Dreggen-Story-Adventure-Begins/dp/9768245158/

2016-07-01T10:51:00.004-05:00

When a FAIRY TALE becomes a SCARY tale

I changed the cover of my children's ebook It's Just a Play, Sasha.
Read the first part here
See amazon page
https://www.amazon.com/Just-Play-Sasha-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B0155JHSXM/

2016-06-23T06:53:00.000-05:00

Get a quick read of Part 1 of Mr King's Daughter here. I hope you like it enough to buy a copy.

For many years I would pass a street vendor who always wore a crown. I suspect that when one crown wore out he made a new one as they looked like props from the theatre. For many years too, there was a small sad looking girl, presumably his daughter, helping him to sell their goods on the sidewalk.

I often wondered what that crown did for him and eventually this story evolved, not exactly his, but perhaps out of his dreams .......
So stories are born - sometimes.

read the extract here
https://read.amazon.com/kp/embed?asin=B00ESEWI6I&asin=B00ESEWI6I&preview=newtab&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_Ii8AxbX9WC25W

Climbing Dunns River Falls - an extract.

2016-05-05T18:45:00.001-05:00

Joe said he would be our guide up the falls as he had climbed it many times. Aunt Candi decided that she would not do the climb, but walk along the stairs and take pictures of us. Some of Maya’s friends wanted to join us.

“No barefoot, and no slippers” Joe warned. “It’s too slippery.” We waited while they went for their sneakers, which he said would be okay. Then, as we had seen other parties doing, about eight of us, boys and girls held hands and formed a human chain, like rock climbers, to go up the steep waterway.

As I stood at the foot of the falls, staring up at the tumbling, noisy, foaming water I felt a bit afraid. I was holding Joe’s hand, but I remembered the saying that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Since I was always a klutz at sports, I feared I might be that weak link. I would have preferred being last, but Joe insisted. He wanted me near him, just in case.

“Is it dangerous?” I asked.

“Not really. But don’t try anything foolish. And that goes for all of you,” he told the rest of our chain. Not that they were noticing him. They were all busy talking and laughing and deciding who would hold whose hands.

Climbing was tricky. We had to go along the paths where the water was not rushing down too strongly. It was cold and a bit scary in places. We had to choose each step carefully. Every now and then I slipped and lost hold of Joe’s hand. He helped me to get up and we continued climbing. Sometimes we had to pull strongly to help each other over a tricky patch. It was exciting, but I was glad when we reached a calm area where we could rest in the pool.

A tourist party was ahead of us, but we were climbing faster than they were, so we overtook them and wove in and out of their long chain. It was a large party with about 30 persons. They had come to the beach by boat and they were having a ball. There was a guy with a camera taking shots of them and he would shout, "How you feeling?” and they would answer very loudly, “Hot! Hot! Hot! It seemed that was how they were expected to answer - meaning they were enjoying themselves.

While we were still passing them, one of Maya’s friends answered "Wet! Wet! Wet! The tourists laughingly took up that as their response. Then they started to shout different response words like "Cold! Cold! Cold!" and "Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!" They all seemed to find it funny, but I don't think their guide was too happy about it.

Occasionally, we glimpsed Aunt Candi on the steps which ran beside the falls. She was calling to us, laughing and taking pictures.

We were climbing so fast that by the time we reached the second pool where we could rest, I was quite tired. Maya said that she too was tired, so we decided to end our climb at that point and join Auntie Candi who was looking on from the little pavilion overlooking the water. I guess it must be an exit point for tired climbers as there was a little opening for us to get up the steps to the pavilion.

Maya's friends wanted to continue the climb, so they went and joined the tourist group. Aunt Candi had our bags and I was able to towel dry and put on my tee shirt. Joe left us and returned with some bottled coconut water, which we sat and enjoyed as we watched other climbers going up the falls.

What a day! Nowhere in my nearly thirteen years of life, rooted in a Small Town USA could I ever have imagined the kinds of fabulous experiences I was having on this vacation in Jamaica. I smiled as I imagined what my friends back home would say if they could see me now. I was glad Auntie Candi was taking so many pictures, for I know they would not believe me.

Joe said he would be our guide up the falls as he had climbed it many times. Auntie Candi decided that she would not do the climb, but walk along the stairs and take pictures of us. Some of Maya’s friends wanted to join us.
   “No barefoot, and no slippers” Joe warned. “It’s too slippery.” We waited while they went for their sneakers, which he said would be okay. Then, as we had seen other parties doing, about eight of us, boys and girls held hands and formed a human chain, like rock climbers, to go up the steep waterway.
   As I stood at the foot of the falls, staring up at the tumbling, noisy, foaming water I felt a bit afraid. I was holding Joe’s hand, but I remembered the saying that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Since I was always a klutz at sports, I feared I might be that weak link. I would have preferred being last, but Joe insisted. He wanted me near him, just in case.
   “Is it dangerous?” I asked.
   “Not really. But don’t try anything foolish. And that goes for all of you,” he told the rest of our chain. Not that they were noticing him. They were all busy talking and laughing and deciding who would hold whose hands.
   Climbing was tricky. We had to go along the paths where the water was not rushing down too strongly. It was cold and a bit scary in places. We had to choose each step carefully. Every now and then I slipped and lost hold of Joe’s hand. He helped me to get up and we continued climbing. Sometimes we had to pull strongly to help each other over a tricky patch. It was exciting, but I was glad when we reached a calm area where we could rest in the pool.
   A tourist party was ahead of us, but we were climbing faster than they were, so we overtook them and wove in and out of their long chain. It was a large party with about 30 persons. They had come to the beach by boat and they were having a ball. There was a guy with a camera taking shots of them and he would shout, "How you feeling?” and they would answer very loudly, “Hot! Hot! Hot! It seemed that was how they were expected to answer — meaning they were enjoying themselves.
   While we were still passing them, one of Maya’s friends answered "Wet! Wet! Wet! The tourists laughingly took up that as their response. Then they started to shout different response words like "Cold! Cold! Cold!" and "Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!" They all seemed to find it funny, but I don't think their guide was too happy about it.
   Occasionally, we glimpsed Auntie Candi on the steps which ran beside the falls. She was calling to us, laughing and taking pictures.
We were climbing so fast that by the time we reached the second pool where we could rest, I was quite tired. Maya said that she too was tired, so we decided to end our climb at that point and join Auntie Candi who was looking on from the little pavilion overlooking the water. I guess it must be an exit point for tired climbers as there was a little opening for us to get up the steps to the pavilion.
Maya's friends wanted to continue the climb, so they went and joined the tourist group. Auntie Candi had our bags and I was able to towel dry and put on my tee shirt. Joe left us and returned with some bottled coconut water, which we sat an enjoyed as we watched other climbers going up the falls.
What a day! Nowhere in my nearly thirteen years of life, rooted in a small town, USA could I ever have imagined the kinds of fabulous experiences I was having on this vacation in Jamaica. I smiled as I imagined what my friends back home would say if they could see me now. I was glad Auntie Candi was taking so many pictures, for I know they would not believe me.
- See more at: https://scriggler.com/DetailPost/Story/35330#sthash.fxjeNX6u.dpuf

Fun on the beach at Dunns River Falls

2016-05-03T09:05:00.000-05:00

An extract

To get to the beach we had to go steeply downhill through a lush park with a craft village, different kinds of snack counters, First Aid and police posts and an army of attendants all willing to assist visitors. Joe seemed to know many of them so we often stopped to greet and be introduced to various persons. Even those he didn’t know nodded and said howdy. Most Jamaicans are friendly. You don’t have to know them, they’ll stop and talk to you anywhere, anytime.

“If your trucking business fails, you can make a living as a tour guide,” Auntie Candi told Joe.

He laughed. “I’ve thought of it.”

As we went down the steps we could see and hear the rushing water of the falls; steep in places, looking scary in others with lots of overhanging tree branches, and here and there a few calm pools, where people who were climbing the falls were resting.

“Want to climb the falls?” Joe asked.

I looked at Maya. “I’ve never climbed it,” she said. “But since we’re doing so many touristy things. I might as well.”

Finally, we reached the beach, another beautiful stretch of light brown, powdery sand with palm and almond and other trees gnarled and twisted by the wind, but with clear blue waters stretching out into the distance. There were buoys marking the limit for swimming and the end of the falls roaring into the sea. Maya and I quickly stripped to our swimsuits which we were wearing under our clothes.

As it was a school holiday, a lot of young persons were on the beach; some seemed to have come prepared to spend the day. They had picnic baskets, drinks and beach balls. Some were in the sea having a good time.

Joe rented a couple of beach chairs for us, but before we could settle on a spot for ourselves, I heard some voices calling, “Maya! Maya! Over here!”

Maya shaded her eyes and started waving. A group of children from her school rushed over. They were in swimsuits and seemed to have already been in the water as they were all wet.

One of the girls, whose name was Heather, welcomed me enthusiastically. “Hey, Lori, if I knew you were coming, I’d have brought the skipping ropes.” I had been teaching them how to jump double dutch when I visited their school.

I smiled.

“Come,” they invited us. “We were just setting up for volley ball over there.”

I looked at Auntie Candi, who waved us to go on. She was already plastering sun blocking cream on her skin and preparing to stretch out on her towel on the beach chair.

I didn’t learn the names of all the kids, but they were very friendly. I am not a fan of ball games, but since there were no rules, and all you had to do was to try to get the ball over the net, I joined in. Teams were as many players as wanted to join in the game. At one time we were about ten a side. Since there was no competition and no coach, in fact what we were playing should NOT be called volleyball at all. I didn’t feel pressured and was soon running from side to side, bouncing into the others on my team trying to get at the ball and screaming: “Get it! Block! Over here! Mine!” and things like that with the best of them.

Then we played a game of tic tac toe in the sand – boys against girls.

They drew a very large square in the powdery sand. The boxes for the X’s and O’s were very large, because the X’s would be occupied by girls and the O’s by boys. It was great fun. We sat cross-legged in the boxes when chosen to do so, and were all mixed up. (Us girls spread our towels across our legs to be decent since we were in swim suits.)

While the teams were deciding which box to ‘mark’, those of us inside had to keep moving our upper bodies to the music from somebody's box. In no time we were moving together as if choreographed, since, if you moved the wrong way, you bumped into somebody. Maya and I were chosen to play several games. There was one boy who kept bumping into me. Somehow, he always seemed to end up in a box next to me. I realized he was doing it deliberately, but couldn’t bother to take him on, I was having too much fun.

Again I had that strange feeling of being in a movie. Neither team won a game because everybody kept shouting instructions, so the teams were able to block one another successfully.

After a new set of players joined us, Maya and I went for a swim. The water felt refreshingly cool. I was having so much fun, I never want to leave this place, I thought.

In a quiet moment swimming, I wondered why I was enjoying everything so much, including the games, until I realized that one of the things I liked about this vacation, was that none of the young people (except Maya) knew me. So, I could do anything I wanted without fear of being judged. I could be myself, or NOT myself, if I wanted to. Here I was nobody’s sister, I was not an A student, nor the worst at sports. If anyone criticized me behind my back, what would I care?

Then Joe called us to come out of the sea if we wanted to climb the falls.

One Strange Place

2016-04-23T09:46:00.002-05:00

Laurel got awake when her hand suddenly fell off the side of the bed and it felt as if her body would follow.

Where was she? For a moment, she thought she must still be dreaming. But no, a sun ray shining through the window was toasting her toes. There were strange noises coming from somewhere outside; even stranger odors of cooked food floated in through the open doorway.

Where was she? She stretched out her other hand and drew it back quickly as it encountered a warm body.

"What the …” she began, then shut up as she realized that it was her sister Barbs curled up close to the wall against which the bed rested; so close she looked as if she was planning to climb it.

Laurel looked around the room and sat up, suddenly remembering. They were in Jamaica. They had arrived late last night at this house after a long drive from the airport. The last part of the journey had been over some bumpy, dark, scary, winding roads. She had been too tired to take much note of her surroundings when they finally arrived. First misgivings about the sparsely furnished room with the small bed she would share with Barbs were soon dissolved by bone weary tiredness into sound sleep.

But now, she was wide awake and ready for action. Swinging her long legs off the bed, she ran to the window, wrestled with the strange way it was latched at top and bottom, opened it and looked out. She saw that she was on the top floor of a two storey building overlooking some kind of square with a tiny park in the centre. The height gave her a panoramic view of the surrounding area. A clock tower took up much of the space in the park. The clock was obviously not telling the right time as it could not possibly be twelve o’clock – noon or midnight. When she looked back after a few minutes the hands had not moved.

“Time stands still here,“ she mumbled. “Not a good sign.” She watched a rooster chase a hen across the park. This was one strange place.

She continued examining the scene before her. What looked like a small, old church stood off to the left of the park. Dilapidated tombstones surrounded it. A narrow road ran almost directly below her window, wound itself around the park then led off into the distance The road was bustling with honking cars and small buses driving on what looked like the wrong side of the road. There were people standing chatting in little groups, calling loudly to one another, or walking briskly to unknown destinations.

It all seemed a bit unreal – the bright sunlight, the noise, the laughter, the colorful summery dresses of the women, men wearing short pants and merinos ; some of them with red, yellow and green wool tams on their heads. Laurel felt as if she was watching a movie. Any moment now the sound track would start; perhaps Bob Marley singing ‘One Love’, and the people on the street would start dancing.

She watched for a few minutes more but, of course, nothing like that happened.

“Barbs! Barbs!” she called to her sister. “Wake up! Come look at Jamaica!”

A still sleepy Barbs joined her at the window “Far out! What a strange place,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “Where’s the beach and the sea"

“Somewhere … nearby, I hope,” Laurel answered, although all she could see in the distance were little greenish-blue hills and behind them higher hills touching the sky.

Just then, a weird, very loud animal noise started from somewhere to the right of the little park.

“What’s that?” Barbs asked in alarm.

A second animal joined voice with the first. The noise penetrated the square and bounced off the walls.

“Look!” Laurel said, pointing to two pack animals tied to poles outside a large wrought iron gate to the right of the park. A sign above the gate read Churchtown Market. People were unloading baskets from a pushcart.

“Two donkeys musn’t bray at the same time,” Barbs said.

Both girls started giggling. It was one of their Aunt Candi’s expressions that she had brought from Jamaica to America. They had heard her use it many times.

“Now I know what Aunt Candi means,” Laurel said as the noisy braying continued.

“Laurel! Barbs!’ A voice called from somewhere inside the house. It was their Aunt Candi’s voice. “Get dressed. Breakfast’s ready.”

Laurel looked down at the striped ‘sensible’ pjs she was wearing. She couldn’t even remember getting into them. Perhaps Aunt Candi had helped her. “Omigosh! she thought. Had she come to Jamaica to turn into a baby?

After a little exploration, the sisters found a bathroom nearby and got dressed. Then, following the sound of their Aunt Candi’s singing they found her in a spacious kitchen with breakfast laid out on a table set for four.

And what a breakfast it was! The girls knew about some of the Jamaican foods which their Aunt Candi would cook from time to time and which they didn’t particularly like. The table seemed to be groaning under the weight of two large plates piled with roasted breadfruit slices and a big dish of ackee and saltfish, which if you didn’t know better, you could mistake for scrambled eggs with bits of brown stuff in it. There were slices of buttery yellow avocados, and peeled oranges in a large bowl.

Laurel moaned soflty,” They’re going to kill us with food.”

“Er… er Cereal please, Aunt Candi,” Barbs said.

“Aw, come on girls! You remember we discussed this. You promised to be adventurous and try the local dishes. Dulcie got up early to make sure you would get an authentic Jamaican breakfast, first thing this morning.”

“Where is Cousin Dulcie?” Laurel asked, as she cautiously eyed the dish of ackee and saltfish. That was the name Aunt Candi had told them to use for her. “We didn’t get to see her properly last night, we were so tired.”

“She went to open the shop . It’s on the ground floor, right beneath us. Today is Saturday you know, a very busy day as many people come into town to buy goods. As soon as the girl who helps her comes in, she’ll come back upstairs and I’ll introduce you properly. She said not to wait for her to eat.“

Her eyes were bright with excitement as she blessed the meal and started sharing food unto their plates. She was obviously happy to be in Jamaica. In fact, Laurel noticed that she seemed to have shed her Principal-of- their Wetherby-Junior-High-School look for a more relaxed, almost girlish look. She could imagine this new-look Aunt Candi who was dressed in a bright floral blouse, long brown shorts, and sandals giggling with Cousin Dulcie and other friends over old Jamaican times and jokes.

Aunt Candi’s excitement had been climbing steadily since she had received a letter from Cousin Dulcie and decided that it was time she visited her birth country, Jamaica. Laurel and Barbs had been very excited when she invited them to come along. They had never traveled abroad, and to make things even better, they were going to Jamaica, about which they had heard so much from their Aunt Candi.

All the advertisements on television about Jamaica showed lovely white sand beaches, luxurious hotels and people having lots of fun. Laurel just knew that she would have many, many exciting tales to share with her friends when she returned to America.

They were in Jamaica to have fun! She hoped fun was 'just around the corner' as Aunt Candi would say.

Scarcity of Illustrators for children's books in Jamaica

2016-04-05T10:10:00.002-05:00

Please correct me where I am wrong.

As a writer of books for children, especially for self- publishing, I have found that there are very few good illustrators for children's stories in Jamaica. And that those that exist are very expensive - as they should be. Scarce goods and services always cost more. But children's books do not sell in great numbers, and cannot be priced to accommodate the very high costs of illustrations.

It's not that our artists can’t draw. They do very well on ads and flyers and other commercial productions, but there seems to be a lack of interest in the much narrower area of illustrating children's stories.

Two problems I have encountered, in particular. First, the artists don’t have the time or are unwilling to invest the time in reading the story, so they often misinterpret. No matter how precise the art brief, it's in the story proper that one gets the feel for what the illustrations should look like. I have had to re-write sections of my stories to match the illustrations, where the artist will not or cannot get it right. (The stories I could tell you! Many arrogantly feel you should take what they give you.)

I believe in giving the artist scope for their own imaginative input, so if I say a living room, at night, the characters have put a mattress on the floor and are eating snacks and watching TV; I expect to get a scene which reflects this - chairs pulled away, a picture on the wall, or a window, somewhere - snacks will include drinks etc. Not a so-so bare room with the characters sitting stiffly on the mattress watching an isolated TV, with one bowl of something orange in it.

For one of my stories which takes place over a summer holiday, I had to point out that the girl would not be in the exact same dress every day. (A very old-time dress at that!) The artist couldn't be bothered to note or ask what a child would wear for exploration over the holidays. The boy also had on the same clothes all summer - I am not making a comment on that.

Second is we don't seem to be able to produce that magical quality that children find attractive. The illustrations often lack depth and that magical look of characters and settings.

When I go on the Internet, on facebook and on sites for writers and illustrators, there are many, many illustrators showing off their wares, many at reasonable cost as they try to break into the market. If I tell a local artist to check book covers on amazon, for example, and see what is being produced for children, I often get a look which says I have lost my senses. But, there would be instant criticism for using a foreign artist. Dare I say that our artists (too many of them) are unwilling to invest in the imagination - theirs and others. Could it be that the majority are male and too macho to illustrate for children??

As usual, I don't have any answers to the questions I ask. Maybe your experience is different (I hope so). But right now we do not have many choices for good, affordable illustrators for children's literature in Jamaica. Take a survey of illustrations for children's books on amazon, for example – not just the covers, but 'look inside' the ebooks as well.

I am deliberately not putting up any illustrations. I would like you to research and judge for yourself.

2016-03-27T14:16:00.000-05:00

My new children's ebook

Fun! Fun! Fun!

www.amazon.com/Whitni-Bondi-Pirate-Genie-Campbell-ebook/dp/B01DEC2EXG/

Children's books- distribution and attitudes

2016-02-02T09:15:00.001-05:00

Magnus the Mongoose

Caribbean children's books (perhaps this only relates to Jamaica) - distribution and attitudes.

Miss Bettina's House & Jenny and the General

Until our writers are able to solve the vexing problem of distribution (including promotion) within the Caribbean (and further afield) writing will remain only a hobby and the overwhelming number of books for pleasure reading for our children will continue to come in from abroad. It is just too costly to get homegrown books widely distributed (even within the Caribbean); the Internet (ebooks), and print-on-demand notwithstanding. Also since our markets are reputedly too small to allow trade books to be profitable, we have to find a way to woo the larger markets abroad. (Actually, even our bookstores discriminate against local books and that's a whole nother story).

But when it comes to getting books into the 'foreign' markets, the other problem I have encountered is a reflex resistance to our material (except, perhaps, for a lucky few). It's part of the general resistance to diverse/multicultural literature that some are now complaining about. The excerpt I share below sums up the kinds of assessment I have seen or received from efforts to get the gatekeepers interested in ordering local books.

The diaspora doesn’t support in any significant way either. If you are not writing folk or nostalgic pieces, forget them.

Here is part of the reply I received for books I sent to a teaching library abroad for assessment.

"Their comments (the librarians) were as follows: the books, some containing patois/non standard English, were hard for average American children/non Caribbean to read/comprehend. The themes were sometimes "harsh" as things like animals not being fed/ghosts etc. were not kid-friendly etc. Basically, these books were appropriate for a specialized market that could relate to the content/themes etc. Thank you for sharing them all and best of luck from (our) Library Department! They returned the books to me."

"Ghosts not kid friendly" ??? I leave you think about that assessment.

Well, I am not 'feeling sorry' for myself and other writers, just pointing out that these problems are stubbornly still with us. But we are pressing on. Innovative ways will have to be found to get our books into the hands of the children. Maybe some writers have even found them. Hope so.

With publishing opportunities so scarce, more and more writers are self-publishing or linking with very small publishers who can be more innovative in their selling tactics

Helen 'Billy Elm" Williams has some other relevant comments and has compiled a list of current Jamaican books for children on her blog at http://marogkingdom.blogspot.com/2014/08/books-by-jamaican-authors-for-children.html

January16 is APPRECIATE A DRAGON DAY

2016-01-15T09:31:00.002-05:00

January16 is APPRECIATE A DRAGON DAY.

Meet DROG, a Jamaican Dreggen, cause he couldn't really be a dragon, could he?

https://www.lmhpublishing.com/children/drog-dreggen-story-bk-1

Drog scares Grandma. Shannon has to convince her Drog is harmless, cause he needs her help.


https://www.lmhpublishing.com/children/drog-dreggen-story-bk-1

or on amazon at

www.amazon.com/Drog-Dreggen-Story-Adventure-Begins/dp/9768245158/

ENJOY

DRAGONS ARE FUN

Dragon things to do

Write a story about your very own dragon! Where does it live? What does it eat? How does it spend its day? Does it have friends? Who are they?

What would your dragon look like? Draw and colour it?

My books for children - Quick reference

2015-09-23T09:06:00.000-05:00

My children's books with links

Miss Bettina's House

Miss Bettina's abandoned animals need to find someone to take care of them and protect them from the village rascal who wants to steal her house.

link1
link2

Bernie and the Captain's Ghost

Six orphans are invited to spend their summer holiday in a rural part of Jamaica. There they encounter an adventure which challenges their physical and mental capabilities.

link1
link2

Ash the Flash

How can Ashton run faster than Usain Bolt?

link1
link2

A Goatboy Never Cries

Johnny gets a quaint pet ‘Gringo’, which changes his plans for the summer holidays in surprising ways.


link

Drog A Dreggen Story book1

Drog is a Jamaican dreggen. He lives in Dreggae Land and can speak only in rhyme. When Shannon and Grandma visit him he has a big lump on his head.Can they help him?

link

Juice Box and Scandal

Juicebox and Scandal is a collection of three exciting stories on the environment featuring colourful Jamaican characters and scenarios

link

Ramgoat Dashalong

RAMGOAT DASHALONG is the name of a 'bush' used to make tea in Jamaica. The title story in this magical collection of stories, it is pure exciting fantasy.

link

Tilly Bummie
Jamaican stories from country life and city life, drawn on the author’s experiences and the child.

llink

My Ebooks for children

Follow the Peacock

A new maze with the odd name of 'The Curious Labyrinth' has opened in the children's park. Jodi and Phillip sample its challenges which are strange enough to make Jodi exclaim, "Nothing else will ever frighten me again!"

link

Whitni and Bondi, the Pirate Genie

Whitni is on holiday with her Mom at a beach cottage in Jamaica. While walking on the beach she discovers an unusual looking shell and takes it home. She puts the shell to her ear to listen to the ocean, but, instead of the ocean, she hears a voice saying, 'Sing to me"

link

It's Just a Play, Sasha

Sasha gets the part of Red Riding Hood in her school play, but she is a very imaginative girl and the details of the play begin to intrude on her real life and create a bit of confusion for herself and others in her village..

link

Shiney is Missing

Shiney is missing. Has she run away or been kidnapped? Unknown intruders are preying on their school canteen and computer lab at nights. Is there a connection? The three 7th grade Jamaican musketeers, Porty, Atty, and Ram set out to solve these mysteries.....along with Darty, a fourth very amusing character.

link

For Young Adult Readers

Mr. King's Daughter

An Anancy story with a YA twist. Wealthy Mr. King is the richest man in his village. But his daughter is very unhappy. He thinks getting a husband will make her happy and devises a nutty plan to find the right man.

link

Rocky Road

The teen years are rocky enough without the added temptations of drugs and criminal friends, as Ricky, Jason and Collette find out in this YA story

link

My Publishers

LMH Publishing

https://www.lmhpublishing.com/about

Carlong Publishing (Caribbean) Ltd

http://www.carlongpublishers.com/

My Amazon Page

Picture book - first draft

2015-09-15T05:57:00.003-05:00

FOR DISCUSSION

Noah wants to be a Super Hero

September 2015

Noah wants very much to be a super hero. But he is only five years old and the littlest one in his family. Noah thinks that if his mom and his dad were superheroes, he would be a super hero too.

His dad is fixing his car in the driveway. "Are you a super hero?" Noah asks his dad.

"You bet I am," his dad replies. "I go to work every day and take care of all of you,"

Noah thinks that is not what super heroes do.

"Am I a super hero, too?"

"Pass those tools for me." Dad replies. "Then you can be a super hero."

Noah gives his dad the tools, but that doesn't make him feel like a super hero.

Noah goes to his mother. "'Mom," he asks, "Are you a super hero?"

"Yes," his mom replies. "Everyday I cook, I clean the house, I do your laundry, and take care of all of you."

Again Noah thinks that is not what superheroes do.

"Am I a super hero, too?" Noah asks.

"Help me take out the garbage. Then you will be my super hero."

Noah helps his mom take out the garbage, but he doesn't feel like a super hero.

Noah goes to his big brother, Nigel, who is playing a video game.

"Nigel," he says, "How can I become a super hero?"

"Wash the puppy for me. That will make you a super hero."

Noah has fun bathing the puppy, but that doesn't make him feel like a super hero.

He goes to his sister. "How can I become a super hero?"

"Clean my shoes for me," she says. "That will make you a super hero."

Noah puts more polish on himself than on the shoes. He doesn't feel like a super hero.

After dinner, his mother gives him a chocolate bar, because he has been so helpful. He goes next door and asks his friend, "How can I become a super hero?"

His friend replies, "Give me half of your chocolate. That will make you a super hero."

Noah shares his chocolate with his friend, but he still doesn't feel like a super hero.

Noah goes home and goes to bed. He is quite tired. He thinks of all the things he did that day. He still longs to be a super hero.

Next day, at school, he asks his teacher, "How can I become a super hero?"

"Well," Miss Robotham replies, "Are you helpful?

Noah thinks about all the things he did for his family.

"Yes," he replies.

"Are you kind?"

He had shared his chocolate bar with his friend.

"Yes." He nods.

"Are you loving?"

He loves his family. He had given his mom an extra tight hug before leaving home that morning.

"Yes."

"Then you are a super hero," his teacher says. "Just by being yourself, helpful, kind and loving. Those are the qualities of a super hero."

"I am a super hero? Really?" Noah smiles.

Noah goes to his desk, takes out paper and his crayons and begins to draw the costume he wants to wear to show that he is a super hero.

Conversation
Should Noah be a bit older ? 6 years instead of 5 because of the tasks he helps with?

Is the 'lesson' too obvious?

New children's story on amazon

2015-09-10T08:13:00.000-05:00

New children's story on amazon
Only 99 cents


http://www.amazon.com/kindle/dp/B0155JHSXM

Sasha gets the part of Red Riding Hood in her school play, but she is a very imaginative girl and the details of the play begin to intrude on her real life. When her mother sends her to take dinner for Mama Esther, the oldest woman in her village, things get a bit complicated, as what she thinks is a wolf demands that she give him the food. Sasha's s reaction sets off a chain of events which lead to a happy ending after all. But when things calm down, her mother has to remind her."It's just a play. Sasha."

Sasha is not so sure about this.

http://www.amazon.com/kindle/dp/B0155JHSXM

Extract

"Sasha hastily gulped down her dinner and set out with the food carrier. What her mother said was true. She would have to walk fast as she didn’t want dusk to catch her on the lonely road.
She was very happy that when she reached Mr. Nettie's yard the dogs were not out. She immediately felt better and began to swing the carrier as she walked. Then she remembered the song in the play and began to hum it. Then, since nobody else was on the road, she began to sing out loud and do the dance she would do in the play.

I'm on my way to grandma's house
With special food for her to eat
There's chicken and rice and peas so sweet
Veges and cake for a grand dessert.

She twirled around and swung the carrier the way she had to do it on stage, then she sang the song again. It was at this point in the play that the wolf started to follow her on the stage.

Sasha didn't feel so safe anymore. She looked around fearfully. The bushes on either side of the country road began to look like large forest trees. Why was it suddenly getting so dark? Was that something following her in the bushes?

"That's a very nice song," a voice said. "'Do the dance for me again, nuh."

http://www.amazon.com/kindle/dp/B0155JHSXM

I LOVE TO SEE CHILDREN READING MY BOOK

2015-09-02T09:02:00.000-05:00

Both Miss Bettina's House by Hazel D. Campbell and Jenny and the General by Jean D'Costa, chapter books for the 8 to 10 age range, were published by Carlong Publishers (Caribbean) Ltd as part of the Sand Pebbles Pleasure Series in 2004 and 2006

Both books have been well received by the children. I was happy about the feedback on Miss Bettina's House. One boy said, "You know what made me laugh? Animals adopting the boy."

A mother said, "I started reading it with my 7 year-old and when I had to stop to do chores, she wouldn't put it down until she was finished."

Miss Bettina's House is a fantasy in which the abandoned animals on Miss Bettina's farm have to find a way to get someone to take care of them and to protect the farm from being taken over by the village vagabond, Curry Dan. There are both humorous and slightly scary scenes.

Jenny and the General is also about animals. This time it is Jenny's pet Alsatian dog who is the only one to realize that Jenny has been kidnapped and goes to find her. This story illustrates the bonds of love and loyalty that can develop between a dog and its owner. It also has humorous characters.

The books can be sourced at Sangsters Book Stores or online at

https://www.bookfusion.com/books/116818-miss-bettina-s-house
AND
https://www.bookfusion.com/books/116253-jenny-and-the-general

Background to writing DROG

2015-07-17T16:25:00.004-05:00

https://www.lmhpublishing.com/children/drog-dreggen-story-bk-1
AND on amazon at
http://www.amazon.com/Drog-Dreggen-Story-Adventure-Begins/dp/9768245158/

When my granddaughter was 6 years old, she loved the teevee show, Dragon Tales. One Saturday morning, I was taking her to the mall and, as we were passing her school, she suddenly said that she wanted to see the dragons at her school. I wasn't quite sure what that meant - perhaps they watched Dragon Tales at her school, but this gave me an idea for a story and that is how the Drog stories started.

Pages 1 and 2

When I took the manuscript to my publisher, he liked it, but said that I should make it a series, and so Drog the Dreggen became a series of three books. Drog is not really a dragon as we don't have dragons in Jamaica. He is a dreggen. You will have to read the story to find out why.

The second in the series entitled Seven Little Dreggenettes and One Deggae Dreggenling is in production. The stories are tongue twisters in parts and have many delightful surprises.

My granddaughter, who has the same name as the girl in the stories, was thrilled when I read them to her. I think you and your little ones will like them too. Ages 4 to 6 + years

Available at LMH here

https://www.lmhpublishing.com/children/drog-dreggen-story-bk-1

AND on amazon at
http://www.amazon.com/Drog-Dreggen-Story-Adventure-Begins/dp/9768245158/

DROG ON AMAZON

2015-06-27T09:06:00.001-05:00

NOW ON AMAZON

http://www.amazon.com/Drog-Dreggen-Story-Adventure-Begins/dp/9768245158

A GREAT HOLIDAY READ

Young Heroes of the Caribbean by Gwyneth Harold Davidson - first impressions

2015-06-22T12:38:00.001-05:00

Between 1995 and 2013 when I taught Writing Stories for Children at the Philip Sherlock Centre at UWI, Mona, two of my pet recommendations to the students were:

1. Widen the settings for our children's stories. I felt and still do that there are many areas of our national life which hardly show up in our stories. (Maybe because some require research)

2. The National Heroes were people who had a childhood and had children connected to them in some way, yet we hardly ever tell these stories. Each year for Heroes Week we trot out the same dry stories of the achievements of the heroes, and tell why they were selected in the same dry way, and expect the children to be excited about this. Where are the stories of children in the lives of these heroes? I would ask. Where are the stories of their childhood? Or of children interacting with them? Here's an extract from an earlier post on my blog at

http://jambooks-fiction.blogspot.com/2011/07/historical-stories-in-caribbean.html

Extract

"Some time ago, I spent one week in Grenada, teaching writing for children, at what was then the Extra-mural Centre. I don’t know if they call them national heroes, but one of their influential political figures was T.A.Marryshow. The Centre, named for him, was actually in what used to be his house. After one class when I had introduced the topic of historical fiction, some students and I were in the car park, below the building. In St. George’s, on every level you have to look up to the next. One of the students remarked that her family used to live in an area below the house. She recalled having seen Marryshow at one of the windows looking out with a ‘trumpet’ at his ear. She also said that the children used to raid the plum tree in his yard, despite being afraid of him. I pointed out that she could use this as basis for a children’s story about the life of Marryshow. Such a story would certainly bring him alive for the children. I don’t think anybody took me up on this. "

Young Heroes of the Caribbean by Gwyneth Harold Davidson

So, imagine how pleased I was when I bought a copy of Gwyneth Harold Davidson's book Young Heroes of the Caribbean. As I read I was delighted to find that her settings involved a cook house on the beach where, for the first part of the story, 10 year old Ramiro lived with his mother, helping her scale fish and prepare food for their customers.

            "He did not stop until he entered the shade of one of the long rectangular huts that seemed to grow out of the cream-coloured sand of Bonny Beach."

            "Ramiro stepped silently inside his mother's hut, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dimness of the one room building that was airy and well ventilated, yet no sand blew inside. ….

            He breathed deeply, taking in the aroma of his mother's cooking and nodded to the one customer in the building….. His mother was steaming red snapper on a stove behind a counter."

Then he moved on to live with his father who was a groom in the stables of the racehorse industry. A completely different setting.

"The housing estate where his father lived had many more children than the beach, and these children were more under the control of their parents. Many of them had a churchgoing life style that seemed fun and interesting."

In addition, Ramiro experiences some of the ups and downs of life in the stables preparing horses for the big races. These are not the usual settings for our children's stories.

Interspersed with Ramiro's story are the tales about Jamaica's National Heroes. These are memories or dreams which link, however vaguely, to the real life experiences of Ramiro and his mother.

Stories of the seven heroes are presented although they are not all young in these stories. William Gordon is already an established businessman. Teenager Manley is the champion runner for his school and Bustamente is an adult about to embark on his travels. Nanny and Bogle and Sam Sharpe and Marcus Garvey are younger.

This makes for a bit of unevenness in the language, as some of the vocabulary in the stories of the older Heroes seems a bit above the 10 year old level. I found also that I would have liked the design to better prepare me for the exits from the Heroes stories back to Ramiro's contemporary story. I felt the transitions were too abrupt.

My other contention is that the end, which rounds out Ramiro's story, seems a bit rushed – solutions to his various family problems being crammed into the last chapter.

However, the book makes an interesting read, both for the settings and the representation of the Heroes in their various 'real' people roles, interacting with other 'real' people, even as they show aspects of the characteristics which made them become Heroes. Fiction and history delightfully intertwined.

Get yourself a copy. It's on amazon at

www.amazon.com/Young-Heroes-Caribbean-Common-Destiny-ebook/dp/B00B3CUVE4/

Caribbean Children's Fiction

CHUBBY

CHUBBY

© HAZEL CAMPBELL 2017

12 stories in12 months Prompt: JOY | Wordcount: 1500 |

New Cover

Pet Sanctuary

New book in the 4 Jamaican Musketeers series

Update on writing fantasy for our children

My New ebook for children- Follow the Peacock

My ebooks for children on amazon

ebooks can be read on your computer or phone by downloading a FREE app from amazon

Take a 'look inside' my ebooks for children on amazon. Enjoy reading with your children

It's Just a Play, Sasha

A sort of Red Riding Hood story

https://www.amazon.com/Just-Play-Sasha-Hazel-Campbell-ebook/dp/B0155JHSXM

Whitni and Bondi, the Pirate Genie

A genie washes up on a Jamaican beach - and meets his match in eight- year- old Whitni

https://www.amazon.com/Whitni-Bondi-Pirate-Genie-Campbell-ebook/dp/B01DEC2EXG/

Shiney is Missing: Porty, Atty, Ram & Darty (4 Jamaican Musketeers)

https://www.amazon.com/Shiney-Missing-Porty-Jamaican-Musketeers-ebook/dp/B00QWFM4F6/

ENJOY with your children

Somebody loves DROG, the Jamaican Dreggen

Climbing Dunns River Falls - an extract.

Fun on the beach at Dunns River Falls

One Strange Place

Scarcity of Illustrators for children's books in Jamaica

Children's books- distribution and attitudes

January16 is APPRECIATE A DRAGON DAY

My books for children - Quick reference

My children's books with links

Miss Bettina's House

Miss Bettina's abandoned animals need to find someone to take care of them and protect them from the village rascal who wants to steal her house.

Ash the Flash

A Goatboy Never Cries

Johnny gets a quaint pet ‘Gringo’, which changes his plans for the summer holidays in surprising ways.

My Ebooks for children

Follow the Peacock

A new maze with the odd name of 'The Curious Labyrinth' has opened in the children's park. Jodi and Phillip sample its challenges which are strange enough to make Jodi exclaim, "Nothing else will ever frighten me again!"

Whitni and Bondi, the Pirate Genie

Whitni is on holiday with her Mom at a beach cottage in Jamaica. While walking on the beach she discovers an unusual looking shell and takes it home. She puts the shell to her ear to listen to the ocean, but, instead of the ocean, she hears a voice saying, 'Sing to me"

It's Just a Play, Sasha

Picture book - first draft

New children's story on amazon

I LOVE TO SEE CHILDREN READING MY BOOK

Background to writing DROG

DROG ON AMAZON

Young Heroes of the Caribbean by Gwyneth Harold Davidson - first impressions

More than just the Anancy stories

12 stories in12 months

Prompt: JOY | Wordcount: 1500 |