In my second grade journal, I referred to writing a story called The Caldecott Medal. “It is going to be good,” my young self vowed with enviable assuredness. I mean, obviously; it had the title of an award that nine-year-old me perceived as deeply prestigious. All the books we were reading in class had received such accolades, after all!
I spoke of my first-grade teacher encouraging me to write. Another person on Team Stef at the time was a woman named Laura. To attempt to explain how I knew her seems daunting; the briefest I can be is that she was my grandma’s neighbor’s son’s girlfriend (now wife). She was blonde and gorgeous, and she was paying attention to me! We even struck up a correspondence for a bit, trading letters in which she told me that she, too, wrote stories when she was young. She read The Caldecott Medal and told me something to the effect that I had a romantic heart. Too true, Laura, too true!
Here’s the story in full—complete with illustrations!
The Caldecott Medal
Woo, the absolute murder of the title… What a crime scene.
Chapter 1
Much like the Little House on the Prairie books (and Caldecott-winning books, no doubt!), each chapter has a title geared to titillate and intrigue. And this one opens with a fairy-tale-esque illustration along the side, depicting things that have nothing to do with the story, like a gnome on a mushroom! What a bonus.
LOL @ the description of Diana’s life. “Bummer, dude” is the clear-cut best response.
Take note that “feet” has been edited. Likely, Diana initially jumped one foot, but that shit ain’t nearly so impressive.
Dad’s got goals.
Chapter 2
Oh, sure. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, Pops. Maybe he should encourage Diana to do some Olympian tasks instead. I mean, she can jump 16 feet.
“How do I [write a book]?” wondered the young woman was described as loving to write books.
Not counting all those other times when she was alone, like that very afternoon when everyone else went to the store. This is REALLY alone, you guys.
Chapter 3
More novels need more twinkling around mansion mentions.
So much to say about this. Take note of her dad’s not-so-empathetic “walk it off” approach to her dream. And where’d the “dirty horses” come from? I rely on the reader to fill in so many gaps. Finally, I can’t help but love the illustration of Diana, crawling and aching with despair, and her dopey baby brother all DER BLERGH WHAAASSS HAPONING?!?! I’M BABY
Chapter 4
Wow, I really did spell attic wrong every time.
Well, you can’t say he’s not consistent.
Chapter 5
Let’s forget the fact that the Caldecott award wasn’t given out until the 1930s.
It’s hard to sympathize with these characters’ plight. Sure, they’re “kind of poor” and their horses need a bath, but no one is saying things like we need money to survive or we can’t pay our bills. They’re just like, “How can we get rich? What if we don’t get rich?” This was absolutely the vibe/source of stress in my family when I was growing up, making this story actually an echo of real life.
Money is so goddamn important in this story!
What do you think The Light Girl is about? Do you think maybe MONEY?!
Chapter 6
Forgot about John for like, basically the entire story. New chapter, who dis?
“Di”—this nickname is courtesy of all the Star magazines on my grandma’s side table, chock full of Princess Diana rumors.
Okay, again, we, the readers, are left to connect our own dots. Despite her panic-induced respiratory problems, Diana has somehow made it to the book fair (perhaps on a dirty horse). Also, I must’ve written this before I’d been to a book fair. I clearly didn’t realize that they’re usually hosted by a community library and featuring used cookbooks for a dollar—and with nary a king in sight.
No way would a king stoop to this menial administrative nonsense.
STEF wrote on a slip of paper in HER best writing…
You lovesick person, you! Behold, the mysterious John, who appears to be Diana’s boyfriend with reasons that take him out of state. What kind of reasons? Who knows—I couldn’t be bothered to mention them. I could barely be bothered to mention him.
I wonder who will win. I’m on the edge of my seat!
Chapter 7
I like how I addressed the logistical hell of judges assessing all the stories that very night, even though it would’ve been better to have everyone submit a book treatment instead of an entire book. But in second grade, the closest I was to understanding writing proposals was when I wrote the bigwigs at Paramount Pictures, suggesting multiple sequels to Grease. (I did not get a reply.)
Let’s pretend that the book was actually titled Blither Blither Blither. Dang, I’d read that.
You read that right: A novice writer won first-place for her book, and twelve thousand dollars to boot. Yeah, I really thought it’d be that easy.
The end? Where is this alleged Caldecott medal? Was that the “tropy”? I guess we must, yet again, draw our own conclusions.
The sequel: Dad spends all twelve grand and Diana has to make more cash by competing in high-jump competitions!
—
Please leave a comment and share this content with your friends on social media—
this helps ensure the continuation of the content you love!