Nancy Drew Mystery Stories

I started reading small chapter books, and my favorites were Junie B Jones and Judy Moody. Throughout elementary school, my reading level got much higher and I advanced in my interests. A little later on, I immensely enjoyed Nancy Drew and loved to see the way the mysteries played out. One series I…

tell stories, I am not much of a reader. I use excuses such as, “I’m too busy.” or “I don’t have time.” to justify the reasons I don’t read more books. Part of the reason I took AP literature was so I could understand how to read into the deeper meaning of books and expose myself to different novel content. I realized though, despite the fact I am not a big reader, books have played a large roll in my childhood and teenage life. Some of my earliest and fondest memories involve books and stories.…

Background, and Her Education in Journalism and Law. A Down Under Beginning Savannah Guthrie was born on December 27, 1971, in Melbourne, Australia, where her father, Charles Guthrie, was working as a mining engineer for an American company. Her mother, Nancy Guthrie, was a homemaker who took care of Savannah and her two older siblings, Annie and Camron. Savannah’s parents were both from the United States, and they decided to move back to their home country when Savannah was two years old. They…

forward to every night, a time of bonding with my mom and sister. She read with animation and changed voices for different characters, making the story come alive. I remember getting caught up in the stories my mother read; it was as if they transported us to another world. My sister…

Background, and Her Education in Journalism and Law. A Down Under Beginning Savannah Guthrie was born on December 27, 1971, in Melbourne, Australia, where her father, Charles Guthrie, was working as a mining engineer for an American company. Her mother, Nancy Guthrie, was a homemaker who took care of Savannah and her two older siblings, Annie and Camron. Savannah’s parents were both from the United States, and they decided to move back to their home country when Savannah was two years old. They…

It’s sort of like playing detective, and I’ve loved mysteries for as long as I can remember: The Famous Five, The Secret Seven, The Hardy Boys, and Nancy Drew were all veritable staples of the literary canon that defined my childhood. I think that, were I accepted into the honors program, I might actually enjoy looking at a couple of other texts I loved…

that demands jumping down into a hole through the roof of a building, darkness faded as you look through the whole, it is seven stories high. The ceilings slope, and the walls are made of stone. The tunnels that make up the hallways are lit in long periods of space, creating large dark spaces. Large underground cave with uneven rock walls that rise more than two stories high. Built into the stone walls are places for food, clothing, supplies, and fun and relaxation activities. Narrow paths and…

young girl, about three year’s old sitting in her wooden rocking chair surrounded by picture books. They are sprawled all over the floor, and here she sits and “reads” aloud to her stuffed animals. But, she doesn’t know how to read, so she makes the story up based on the pictures she sees in the book. Now imagine the same young girl, now she is five years old. She sits on a chair with crayons of every color, coloring books, and paper spread across the kitchen table. She sits here and draws…

write. The first story I can remember writing was from when I was four or five. It was one of the aforementioned fable variety, and claimed to answer the question of how people learned to talk. My advanced theory was that long ago a loquacious parrot had flown to all the countries in the world, teaching people how to speak and communicate. I thought it was pretty good at the time, and my mom agreed. From there, I progressed to more complex tales: Nancy Drew-style mysteries, a story about a…

always seemed to be going on at my house. My dad was a heroin addict and Mom was a rage addict. Everyday there seemed to be a fight. I had watched my mom hit my dad in the head with frying pan, try to run him over with a car, or push him out of a two story window. This is only a few of the incidents that I remember. My dad was no angel; he screamed and threw things. All I wanted to do was escape the world around me. I often tried to use television, but that did not seem to work. The living…