He ran up to me, picked me up and spun me around like he did when I was very little. He looked really happy and he told me that he’d got a job! This made me cheer up, too, because when he’s got a job he treats everyone better and drinks less beer. Then he noticed that my eyes were still red from crying even though I was smiling and asked me what was wrong. I told him about the story I had to write, and he looked upset. He told me that I should go with him and he would help me write it. I wasn’t sure, but I went with him anyway.I didn’t know my dad knew anything about English, because he dropped out of school to be a builder when he wasn’t much older than me. What he told me really helped, though. He sat me down at my desk and with that big scary piece of blank paper in front of me we started to talk about what I would write.
“I don’t know what to write about! I have nothing to say!”
“That’s not true! You’re an interesting boy, Callum; you must have something to write about! Let me think about this… what about skateboarding? You love skateboarding!”
“Yeah, so what? ‘I love skateboarding’ isn’t much of a story!”
“That’s just the beginning, skateboarding is your inspiration! That means that it’s the thing that starts you off, something or someone that you like that makes you think!”
Dad was right. When I started to think about skateboarding, I could think of loads to say! I didn’t lose interest because skateboarding interests me, and whilst dad helped me I managed to write a pretty good story!
I wrote about a boy who wanted to be a pro skater, and who saved up money and went to California, and became famous as the world’s best skateboarder! Dad helped me with the tricky spelling and grammar, and by the end I was really proud of it. I put it in my bag and took it to school the next day.
Ms Effgrave walked past at the end of the lesson, shouting“Hand in your homework!” Usually I sit there dreading her arrival at my desk, but today I was happy. She came over and, expecting me not to have done it, looked like she was going to shout. That’s when I went into my bag, and pulled out my story! It was longer than what anyone else in the class had done! Ms Effgrave was so surprised she read it right there and then. She was amazed, and told me it was the best story I’d ever written for her. I was smiling from ear to ear, now. She asked me how I did it, and I explained to the whole class about inspiration. I got an A! I’ve never got an A before. I came home that day, dad was waiting for me, and when I told him that I got an A, he was so happy he took me out for pizza! Telling my dad about my problems helped me with writing stories in English. Whatever my dad may do, he still loves me, and now when I have a problem I feel like I can talk to him and things will get better.