The Smart Boy Who Could Write

by Gideon Bialkin, age 10
The Smart Boy Who Could Write This is Gideon's first semester at Writopia, and it inspires him. He was inspired to write this story after finishing his immigration project in school.

“This story starts with a little boy named Adam. Adam was a boy who lived in Ireland, in 1845, when the potato famine happened. He lived in a poor house because he was not the richest kid in Ireland.”

This story starts with a little boy named Adam. Adam was a boy who lived in Ireland, in 1845, when the potato famine happened. He lived in a poor house because he was not the richest kid in Ireland. His family lived on top of a bakery. It smelled like baguettes when they would make them. The floor would creak, the doors would break, and the windows would shatter because the house was so cheap. Adam found a potato in a church, and it was glowing.

He was bullied at school because of his clothes. His clothes were ragged, and he wore the same outfit every two days. He also was sad because his family was very sick from the famine. He could not go to school because he had to take care of his family. Later that week, his family died. He hated life now that he had to quit school and work to keep the bakery.

One day, he saw a man, the landlord. He did not like the landlord. He was very tall and wore way more clothes than Adam.

The landlord said, “You’re a little under the house rent.”

Adam said, “I am not getting as many customers as I usually do.”

The landlord said, “I am sorry, but I will need to kick you out of this building. Take your stuff.”

When Adam was counting his money, he saw he had enough to go to America. Yes, he thought, I can finally fulfill my dreams and have a life. Why didn’t I think about this before? The next day, Adam went to the station to buy tickets for America, but then he realized he was one dollar short. He thought, I would have to work for a week! Oh no, the bakery is gone. I would have to wait on the streets for people to give me money… Oh God, please help.

The next day, Adam was on the street, and one person gave him 99 cents. He was happy and mad, but the next minute, a man gave him a full dollar.

“Yes!” Adam said.

So, he got his ticket and was the happiest kid on earth, until he got on the boat. It was terrible. I mean, he could not sleep, but with the power of his magical potato, he slept that night. But, the next day, he realized his potato was infected with the blight. He knew because it was turning black.

Adam made a friend named Paul. Paul had a family with a lot a food. Paul shared food with Adam because he was his friend, and he had a lot of food.

In the night, Adam was trying and trying to go to sleep, so Paul woke up and helped him go to sleep. Adam was so happy. Paul taught him how to go to sleep, so Paul and Adam had a great ride. On Ellis Island, he was so scared to be sent back to the streets of Ireland. He got inspected for everything, but he was safe. He could go to America and be safe. Yes! he thought.

Now, where would he work? His only real talent was writing. He learned to write because he went to Writopia in Ireland. His Writopia teacher was Kael. He heard Kael was the best teacher in Writopia. Paul gave Adam some paper to write on, so Adam got started. Paul also let Adam stay with him. Adam started writing about this boy whose family died in the famine. Paul did Adam a lot of favors, but Adam still had to pay half of the rent for their house.

He said to Paul, “I will pay my part of the rent when my book gets published,” but before Adam could get his book published, he had to get a publisher. This was another favor from Paul. Paul got him a publisher.

It took four months for Adam to finish his book. When Adam finished his book, he got it published by his publisher, and in a few days, it became a bestseller. Adam could pay the rent! Adam kept on writing, and he became a famous writer. Adam moved to the Upper West Side and bought a home for Paul too. Life was great for Adam and Paul, and Adam had ten best sellers! But, he missed the smell of those old baguettes.

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.