My Angelica Book

In the grand tradition that counts Jo March and Harriet M. Welsch among its members, Sage Oliver is born to be a writer. Or so she thinks; here's a sample from her magnum opus, Angelica and the Seminole Indians: "Suddenly! Angelica raised her head! Her nostrils flared! A familiar odor floated through the air, tickling Angelica under her nose! It smelled like...like Thieving White Men!" And, to Sage's best friend George's dismay, she's entered Angelica in the school literary competition! George knows Sage can't write but he's too kindhearted to tell her so; he's also in love with her but can't tell her that, either. This comedy-romance is sometimes unwieldy but fun to read, and George, a total sweetheart, gives the book its soul. But truth be told, the generous excerpts from Sage's writing are the best part: "Angelica put on her dead husband's favorite white gloves, and wiped a lone tear from her carefully made-up face. Not a bit of makeup smeared. She was exquisite in her pain. Her deep, deep, deep pain." The range and variety of Sage's missteps, mistakes, and mixed metaphors would provide excellent fodder for a composition class.

Fifteen-year-old Sage is enthusiastic about submitting her historical romance novel to the school creative writing contest, but her would-be boyfriend George thinks that it is awful and tries to stop her.