Thursday, May 28, 2009

Columbus meets Chief Kookamunga

Probably the questions I'm most often asked is, "When did you start writing, and who planted the first seeds?"

Some writers may not be able to pinpoint an exact event or pivotal point. Not so with me. It was my fifth grade teacher, Miss Mary, as we students called her. She was my catalyst. Otherwise a shy child, I loved to write book reports and read them aloud. I would end with a cliffhanger, and several classmates scrambling to be next in line for the book.

One day after giving a book report on a popular mystery, Miss Mary's face beamed, and she announced, "One day, Laurie will be an author."

Those words stuck somewhere in my subconscious. No one had ever told me that I could become anything. So I tucked her words away in the depths of my heart and clung to them for years to come.

But, even though Miss Mary was an encourager, she had a knack for keeping her students in line. One day I found out that I was not exempt from her discipline. Our class had been assigned to write an essay describing the perils Columbus must have experienced on his journey to discover The New World.

The rest of the class groaned over the extra homework while all sorts of crazy ideas spun around in my head. Where could I go with this story? Oh, the possibilities!

I have tried to pull the essay from the recesses of a child's mind and fill in the blanks to give you a vague idea of what my fifth-grade teacher was up against. My Columbus essay went something like this... I have titled it "Columbus' Catastrophe"

Once upon a time there was a man named Christopher Columbus. They called him Chris for short. Chris just knew the world was not flat like a pancake. But how could he prove that it was round like a globe? Especially, when he couldn't find anybody who would back him, or give him ships, and the supplies he would need to cross the Atlantic Ocean so he could discover the New World.

Finally, after traveling to several countries to beg the kings and queens, Queen Isabella of Spain gave in. She agreed to give him whatever he needed, but only if he promised to bring her bushel baskets of gold. Chris loaded down the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria with food and water. They couldn't take milk or orange juice since refrigerators had not been invented yet. You see, this was before Thomas Edison was born. And because they didn't have any oranges on board, some of the crewmembers died from scurvy. That's when you don't have enough Vitamin C. Chris and the others had to toss the bodies overboard so they wouldn't stink up the ship.

One night the Nina was destroyed in a raging storm. Waves as high as the Empire State Building struck the ship and tossed it about. On the morning of October 12, 1492, Columbus Day, a man on deck spotted sea gulls flying around the ship. Then another man saw something green in the distance. He yelled, "Land Ho!" Everyone on board had a party. They started dancing around, and yelling, and jumping for joy. Then the Pinta and the Santa Maria docked in the bay of the West Indies. (Remember the Nina had met her Waterloo.)

The commotion was so loud that the Wakoochie Indians on the island armed themselves with spears and raced toward the shore to investigate. By that time Chris and his men had shimmied up coconut, banana and pineapple trees. They needed some fruit to cure their scurvy. Once they got to the tops of the trees, they started shaking them really hard. Coconuts, bananas, and pineapples, fell like huge hailstones, and bounced off the Indians' heads to knock them out cold. The more fruit that fell, the madder the still-conscious Indians became, until only six braves were standing. Those six rattled Chris' banana tree until his teeth chattered and he couldn't hang on any longer. He let go and yelled, "Tim-ber!" right before he smacked the ground flat of his back. When he opened his eyes, he looked up into six pair of vicious ones staring down at him. The Indians had red and yellow war paint smeared across their noses. They grabbed ole Chris by the arms and yanked him up.

In the meantime, Chris' crew scrambled down from their trees, arms loaded with fruit and high-tailed it to the ship. They must have had yellow streaks down their backs because they pulled up the anchors and shouted, "Ship Ahoy!" Then they raised the sails and pointed the ship toward Spain, righ before a big gust of wind blew them out to sea. Chris looked forlorn as he watched his friends desert him. But, he didn't have much time to think about it.

The Wakoochie Indians shoved him along at spear point until they reached their village square. One last push and Chris was inside the chief's tee-pee. Big Chief Kookamunga was a round, pot-bellied man. He was finishing off a pineapple and the juice dripped from his heavy jowls onto his protruding belly. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, then gave the command loud and clear. "Raka!"

That must have had something to do with fire, since the Indians wrapped a rope around Chris from shoulder to ankle and dragged him to the center of the villag to tie him to a stake. Two braves were busy striking flint rocks when Chief Kookamunga jostled out of his tee-pee to yell, "Oola! Oola!"

I guess that meant, "Wait! I just got a better idea," because the chief grunted and pointed to a large cannon on the beach. The Indians then pulled Chris from the stake and hauled him over to the cannon. They stuffed him inside, feet first and belly down. He tried to struggle and protest, but it was of no use. They had stuffed his mouth full of bananas and the ropes were really tight. The Indians turned the cannon toward the ocean and aimed it up. Chief Kookamunga fired the shot that propelled Chris up into the sky like a missile, while the other Indians stood by and watched him grow smaller with every passing second.

To this day no one knows what happened to Chris. He was never seen again. But, if on some clear, moonlit night you happen to see a shooting star cross the sky, stop and salute. Because it just might be Christopher Columbus still orbiting the earth.

Do you think he knows it's round by now? (The End)

Before I finished, the class was in an uproar. The girls giggled, the boys slapped their knees and hee-hawed. I was beaming, sure I had just earned an A+, when a voice behind me harrumphed and said a little gruffly, "Laurie! I want you to re-write that story. And this time...make it a little more realistic."

I could feel my face burn. I thought the story was perfect the way it was. And the class loved it! Besides, I didn't even know the meaning of the word "realistic." That day I reluctantly added it to my 10-year-old's vocabulary. Not that I used it very often. LOL

I give Miss Mary the credit for spurring me on, but I have to give her credit for reining me in, too. Just remember, one can never know the power of his or her words. And though Miss Mary has been gone for three decades, her son made an appearance at my alumni book signing, Easter weekend. Just to meet the student who wrote a dedication to his mother, crediting her with planting a seed that eventually sprouted.

Have you had a similar writing experience? Post a comment and tell us all about it. I'd love to hear from you. We can all learn from each others' experiences.

JOURNEY TO FORGIVENESS: received 5-Star reviews on and

Purchase a copy at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or an autographed copy from the author. Contact Laurean at


Sharon Donovan said...

LOL Laurie! What a ten-year old imagination you had on you, girlfriend. No wonder Miss Mary encouraged you to keep writing. I don't have anything remotely similar, but as you know, before the loss of my vision, art was my passion. Creativity blooms in a variety of gardens. And when a teacher at the local college encouraged me to write about my struggles with diabetic retinopathy, a new dream resurrected. I began writing to inspire others through hope. I thank God for my family, friends and for those who encouraged me to pursue a new dream...writing. And I say three cheers to Miss Mary for planting the seed in you to write. I'm sure she is proudly beaming down at you from the billowy clouds. Best of luck with this presentation. you rock it, Laurie!
Sharon Donovan

Donna B said...

What a hoot! The kids must have loved it! I can imagine the riot that caused - just think - you rewrote the annals of history LOL. Imagine that, you got your first rejection that young and came back to prove yourself! Good job!

Emma Lai said...

My first story was about Glartian the Martian...a little Martian boy who looked different from all of the other little Martians. He was lonely, but finally found a little girl willing to accept his uniqueness. Hhm...who knew?

Laurean Brooks said...

Sharon, Every time I think about your life and what you've conquered, I am inspired. You have inspired me in a lot of other ways, too.

I will always remember Miss Mary. Someday I will see her in heaven and thank her appropriately.

Laurean Brooks said...


I know I rewrote the annals of history. So why isn't it written that way in the books? Frustrating!

Yes, Miss Mary gave me my first rejection, but without her planting the first seed, who knows where I'd be?

Seriously, the experience taught me to write more objectively and realistically...uh when I HAD to.

Laurean Brooks said...

Emma Lai,

I love it! Glartian the Martian. I would love to read that one. Ever thought of making it into a Sci-fi?

Thanks for dropping by. Happy writing to all! Tomorrow is that big 30-minute presentation. Ooooh!

S. said...


I love this, it's wonderful! LOL What a creative imagination, and I wonder if old Chris ever did discover the earth is round? LOLOL

I must've been around ten years old too, when I wrote my first *story.* My older brother's and sister's friends came over one weekend night, and we were all wondering how to pass the time. We decided to act out the movies, or something, but had no script. Well, being a huge Nancy Drew fan, I wrote a ten or twelve page *whatever* called Midnight Horror. Funny how I remember the title, but can't really recall what it was all about, except some kind of spooky house and a real ugly spook to go with it. LOL

Miss Mae

Mary Ricksen said...

That ,Laurean, was just hysterical!
And in your naivete, just assumed you could write a good story and get over? Well you can and you are right now!! Isn't that amazing.

Laurean Brooks said...

Miss Mae, Thanks for dropping by and loving my debut story. Hee-hee. I would love to have read yours. Just goes to your kids. What they do throws strong hints on what they'll become. Kinda spooky! Whew!

Laurean Brooks said...

Mary, thank you for your compliment. Yes and my imagination still runs wild. I can't keep my characters under control. That's not only evidenced in my h/h, Jenny and Austin, in JOURNEY TO FORGIVENESS, but even old Oscar (the goofy mama's boy who's in hot pursuit of Jenny) and his overly protective, whiny mother, "Nora". But Austin throws a cog or two in Oscar's wheel. Hee-hee!

Laurean Brooks said...

Anyone who hasn't viewed the "Journey To Forgiveness" book trailer, please do so. Just keep scrolling down. It's not hard to find and well worth the "eyes of Austin." Whew! What more can I say?

Pamela S Thibodeaux said...

Cute, cute, cute Laurean!

I don't have any stories like this, I was always a reader, never thought about writing until in my 20's.

I'm the guest over at Roni Adams blog if you get a chance to stop by!


Rachel Rossano said...

LOL! I really enjoyed that Laurie. I can easily envision your classmates amusement. :)

I haven't always known I was going to be a writer. Initially I was just a reader, but then I wasn't happy how the books I read turned out. So, I started writing my own endings, the ones I wanted, in my head. Then I started making up my own stories in my head, telling them to myself and my sisters at night as we were falling asleep. Finally, I had the brilliant idea of putting my words down on paper. ;) Thus began my writing career. :)

Laurean Brooks said...


I did the same thing. My little brothers and sister had to endure my "Once upon a time" stories almost every night. Of course they usually fell asleep before I was through.

My sister, 18 months older, and I were both crazy about the same certain cowboy when we were in early teens. After we went to bed, she and I would each think up a romantic story about the cowboy and ourselves. She would tell hers, then I would try to better her. It would go on and on. We'd start to giggle.

Then Mama's voice would boom out from across the hall. "If you don't shut your mouths, I'll come in there and you'll wish you had!"

We would shut up and go to sleep...until the next night.