Author: markmkane

Fade Out…

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That’s the two words most screenwriters love to see and say out loud. Why you may ask? Basically it means that all your hard work toiling in front of the computer and pounding away on that keyboard has finally come to an end. The story that had been pining away inside of you finally came out…every character, every dialogue, every scene, every nuance that was worked out in your mind’s eye is now all within your computer.

You lean back in your chair, prop your feet on the desk, stretch your arms and take pride in your creation. Your “baby” has finally come to life. You think it’s a work of art, a complete perfection, the “best damn story” that was written in all of history.

Your mind drifts off to what might be as a result of completing this “amazing script.” Delusions of grandeur pop into your head, and rightfully so. It’s good to think that. It gives us a sense of self-confidence…realists see this as false hope. But who cares! You created something from nothing and that’s no easy task.

Once everything settles, reality sets in and you soon realize that this is just the beginning. The real work comes into play. You’re going to have to do a ton of rewrites…WHAT?! But you thought it was perfect, how can you improve on a masterpiece?! This is your “baby” we’re talking about.

Quote

Sad to say what you thought was impeccable, now has a bunch of flaws. Parts of the story doesn’t flow well, terrible dialogue, nondescript scenes and useless characters are the defects that stings the very fiber of your core. What you once thought was great, has now been reduced to ashes; remnants a novice’s attempt lay at your feet.

You start to question your credentials as a writer and think how can this possibly be fixed. Doubt creeps in; stress and anxiety soon take over and all your creative juices are all out of whack. You’ve just made the possible something completely insurmountable.

Don’t really know if other writers go through this, but I’ve experienced this numerous times. At the moment I’m about to throw in the towel, an epiphany of why I write hits me like a lightning bolt. I take a deep breath (actually several), grit my teeth and press on.

My love of writing will outweigh any type of insecurities that I have. I look at it as if I’m polishing a diamond in the rough; my story has the potential, I just need to add a few key elements to bring out and display that passion that I had while writing it.

After completing my first rewrite, I’ll take a break and then come back to it to do a second and a third rewrite. For me, anything after three is overkill. Once my script’s done, I lean back in my chair, prop my feet on the desk, let loose a gratifying smile and bask in the satisfaction that I was able to endure the true writer’s journey…FADE OUT.

Dream a little dream…

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There is a point in all of our lives where we aspire to be great, to do something big or to be famous beyond all belief. Call it delusions of grandeur, wishful thinking or lofty goals…but we all go through it.

I dreamed a lot…ages ago, when I was able to run like the wind, shake off the flu with ease and be pain free.  I had all these dreams…being a rock star, the hero that saved Earth from invading aliens, a star athlete, you know the usual stuff.  But there was one particular dream that I am most grateful for and that was to be a writer of cards.

You know what I’m talking about…birthday cards, wedding cards, anniversary cards, any type that you’d find in a Hallmark store.  That was my foray into writing.

You see, at that time I was extremely “girl crazy”…you would be too if you came from a Catholic all boys school like I did.  When I got into college and started to mingle with the hordes of beautiful women on the college campus, I decided that whenever one of my lady friends had a birthday I would give them the gift of poetry.

My type of poetry didn’t contain eloquent verses; it wasn’t even close to anything magnanimous, it was more of the rhyming sort.  The kind that you would find when you opened up a “Hallmark” card.  I would pine away at the right words to use to convey how I felt and would take pen to paper soon after.  Here’s an example:

“Some write songs of love old and new,

others write books of love so grand and true

But songs and books cannot describe,

the real true meaning of love…

A love that comes from inside

From within the heart a certain feeling grows

it cannot be hid for through your action it shows

It’s seen in the eyes of both the young and old

It’s shown through their smile that’s pure and gold

If everyone had one wish they’d probably say,

Love stay with me forever, never go away.”

Yeah it’s cheesy but it helped me on my path to becoming a writer…which was something that I subconsciously dreamt about when I was writing all those weird short stories in my high school English classes.  It was a start and like all dreams, you have to start somewhere.  Even if it seems illogical at the time, you have to try.

My whole point that I’m trying to get at is that you truly can’t be afraid to dream.  Failure is not an option but merely an obstacle that you’ll overcome.  Even if it seems impossible, unattainable or just plain crazy.  If that’s what you want then strive to get there at all costs.

Dream#1

I’m a screenwriter and that’s probably one of the most unattainable dream that one could aspire to be…but I stuck with it.  It took me almost seventeen plus years to get representation but I achieved it…and I’ll go another seventeen years more to try and sell one of my scripts.  Persistence and patience are the key ingredients to achieving one’s dream…add a dash of luck to the mix as well.

So dream away and dare to be great.

Not your ordinary “Action Figures”

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It’s amazing how times have changed since I was a young boy.  Back in my time playing with the so-called boy “dolls” was done usually alone and in the confines in our room.  If we were caught with one in hand we had mental checklist to justify that it was merely a toy and not a “doll.”

I can now understand why the adults of that generation considered them dolls.  To them they looked like a Barbie doll in the guise of a superhero or soldier and it was used to role play.

The action figures of yesterday had only four stiff moving parts consisting of both arms and legs if you’re lucky…

And you really couldn’t pose them in a realistic fashion.  You almost also had to be a magician to get them to stand upright by themselves.  It was simple and did it’s job in entertaining us for hours on end.  We didn’t care if it got dirty or if it was missing an arm or leg.  It was cheap enough to go to the store to get another to replace it.

But the wonders of science changed all of that for the male generation. Technology had advanced to the point where stuff we once imagined was now a reality.  Growing up as a kid in the 21st century with the type of toys abound is simply mind-blowing.  The “boy dolls” were now know as “ACTION FIGURES”…doesn’t that sound more masculine.  And boys nowadays are proud to tote them about wherever they go.

The “action figures” in today’s society are TOTALLY INCREDIBLE!  Just take a gander at these:

They’re like sculptured works of art…don’t you think?  And the best ones have 26 or more points of articulation.

What does that mean?  Well, that enables you to pose them in more human like fashion.  It gives you the power to show them off in super cool action stances where they looked like they jumped out of the comic books and onto your floor.  It’s just AWESOME!

The only drawback to these type of action figures is that they’re quite expensive and is usually just meant to be displayed out of reach from young inquisitive and prying hands.

I for one tend not to remove them from the box.  WHAT?!  Yep, that’s right.  An action figure that is neither handled with human hands or displayed out in the open.  I guess it’s like my own personal Picasso that I keep locked away in storage; I relish in the thought that I own a priceless work of art only meant for my gaze.  One day I’ll remove them from the box and enjoy it in the manner it was designed for but until then I’ll just admire them from within the box and mentally list the poses that each one will be in.

Tribute to an old friend…

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Around this time every year I always stop to be thankful for what I have and most grateful for but it’s also a time when I reflect on losing two beloved pets.  What’s so ironic is that I lost them years apart in the same month all due to old age.  It’s something that all pet owners wish won’t happen but will inevitably face.  Today I just want to pay tribute to my beloved dogs Ginger, Remy and Tigger.

“My Friend, today you’ve left a space in my heart…a void that not anyone can make.  To do this one has to unselfishly give of one’s self.  You did just that and more.  You gave yourself freely, shown your love openly and unbiased, gave your ear for someone to bend and comforted a cold and lonely body.  With your warmth and tenderness, your companionship is unmatched and your heart is forever captured.  Right here in my private treasure chest…where your love is kept safe…until it is ready to be freely shared to the one who is worth and unselfish.  The one who will learn as well as accept the gift of unconditional love.  But until that time comes, my heart will not be whole…for the space that was left will be a most tremendous task to fill.  Because the love that I’ve received is but one of a kind…that is unique only to you…My Friend.”

 

Cartoons…not just for kids anymore.

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We all remember our childhood days when we would sit in front of the TV engrossed in our favorite cartoon show.  For some of us, Saturday mornings was purely reserved for our cartoon viewing pleasure; we endured a tortuous week of school and homework just to make it to that holiest of days.  Hanna-Barbera 2
This is what I grew up watching.  Back then cartoons were just that…cartoons.  The drawings were elementary and colorful; the movement very nuts and bolts; the plot safe and mundane.  It’s nature by design was targeted for kids.  And that was okay by my standards.  Any adult caught watching this would a strange sight…well can you imagine your parents watching this for enjoyment.

As I grew a little older, I felt a little out of place watching this.  You kind of knew where most of the story was going and all the characters wore the same outfits.  It’s like they had a lifetime supply of the same clothes.  Luckily for me cartoons started to change a bit.  They ventured into more action, sci-fi and comic book type of things.
hanna_barbera_action_ Superfriends
This fantasy, sci-fi cartoon was simply out of this world. Not to mention, seeing comic book characters finally on-screen. It was pure ecstasy seeing cartoons geared for the older child. The drawings and motion were still a bit rudimentary and the plot very simple and safe.  But that was okay.  It captured my attention and held it for hours on end.

After awhile these new type of cartoons just didn’t capture my attention.  I was just growing up and these cartoons started to feel childish again.  I felt embarrassed if any adult stumbled upon me watching this; it felt as if your best friend caught you in the act of watching Sesame Street.  Not that there’s anything wrong with Sesame Street, it’s just meant for a different age bracket.

For the longest time cartoons became homogenous in drawing and plot.  As I got into college I got turned onto “anime”.  When I saw this, it completely blew my mind. This was cartoons but on steroids and meant for the older crowd.

Gundam 1 Bleach 1 Naruto shippuden 2Naruto_Shippuden 1

The drawings were like works of art and the plots more complex in nature.  The movements of the characters were more fluid in motion and realistic. It was fantastical in nature, action packed and engaging.

It’s as if my whole life of watching cartoons as a kid was gearing me up for anime.  I no longer felt ashamed of watching this; I would be totally oblivious to any adult entering the room.  I was reliving my childhood again but in an adult way.  Yes it’s still cartoons…but it’s done in a sophisticated and craftful manner.

Whenever I have some spare time, I would go onto the internet and catch up on the latest anime series that captures my attention.  My kids are even entranced with it and think I’m cool for sharing an interest in anime with them.  It’s purely an escape for me when I’m tired of regular TV viewing.  All I can say is that thank God for “anime”…it “TOTALLY ROCKS!”

In a rush…just DON’T FORGET to FLUSH!!!

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toilet The toilet…
something that is commonplace in all of our lives.  Day in and day out we do our business in it, whether it be “number 1” or “number 2” OR “number 3”.  “Number 3” is what I’d refer to as either puking your guts out from a horrendous night of drinking or from a bout of the dreaded flu.  We know this contraption oh so well; some would even call it our friend.  That’s fine.  We do our business, wipe and then flush…all in that order.

There are times when a family member, spouse or roommate forgets that last particular and “crucial” step…FLUSH.  We’ve all encountered that, don’t you dare deny it.  You go in to the bathroom, lift up the toilet cover and…BAM!  Poop staring right at you.  You cringe in slight disgust and flush it.  But because it’s at home we tend to let it go and complete that step for them before we “really need to go.” It’s disgusting but forgivable.

It’s even understandable to encounter this in public restrooms at the mall, restaurants, dive bars and “little hole in the wall” diners.  We just accept the fact that there are people out there that don’t give a rip who uses the toilet after them.

My one annoyance however is when this happens at the workplace.  You know…the employee restroom that you and all your co-workers share.  You go in ready to do your thing and…WHAM! There it is staring at you in the face, in the midst of the shredded toilet paper…a giant turd in the bowl.  Lucky you.

It’s even more hard to stomach if the person before you had the “runs”.  Seeing that murky cesspool with bits of food particles all floating there just makes you want to vomit and contribute to that mess.

Thoughts race through your minds as to who did this; who was the culprit that I passed on my way into the men’s bathroom or the women’s bathroom.  Don’t you dare deny that.  Some of the times we pass the person leaving the bathroom and encounter their poop in all its glorified form.

I then start to wonder how could they not remember to flush.  Did we forget what the “whoosh” sounds like!?  Are we so consumed with outside things that we imagined hearing the toilet flush!?  This just irritates me to no end.

Don’t even get me started on when to know to do the “double flush”…you know what I mean.  You flush once but there is still some left over poop that just won’t go down or remnants of that muddy diarrhea water still remaining.  Some just flush, which I commend, but they don’t stay to see if the toilet bowl water is clear of their mess.

I would be so embarrassed if I left anything behind in the toilet bowl and passed one of my co-worker who is just entering the bathroom.  They would be the recipient of my unwanted present.

Granted there are times when it’s just pee; I can stomach that as can most of you.

All I can say is that you keep this phrase in mind, if you don’t want your co-workers giving you nauseating side looks.

Even if you’re in a rush…toilet_flushing
please just “DON’T FORGET TO FLUSH!”

Things that go “bump” in the night

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Well, it’s that time of the year…halloween clip art 2

Yep…Halloween.  A time where kids dress up and go “trick or treating” for candy; as for the adults, we dress up and validate it as “cosplay” and relive our childhood once again. Halloween was always something that I looked forward to as a child, but once I grew older it just didn’t appeal to me as much.  I just brushed it off as another day and knew that it would soon be Thanksgiving.  I’ve never took stock in the supernatural even though I’ve heard many “stories”, granted they were all secondhand or in most cases fifth or sixth hand.

Back in college, me and a host of my friends tried to make an attempt to see if any of what we heard was true.  But unfortunately, nothing came to pass and we just brushed it off as a whole lot of bunk.

When reality TV started up and shows featuring paranormal investigators popped on the tube, I watched with skepticism and knew it was more of an entertainment value on my end.  This went on for 10 plus years and I was beginning to grow a bit tired of the “same old” scenes.  That is until two years ago.

It was a normal night and I had gone to bed; a trip to the bathroom awoke me from my slumber.  It was about 230 in the morning and I scanned the clock on my nightstand.  I trudged out of bed and sluggishly made my way down the hall to the bathroom.  The motion sensor light, installed in our hallway so that we could make a safe passage to the bathroom in our half asleep state, triggered.  I made my way down and passed the living room.

Out of the corner of my eye this is what I had saw…Shadow figure
Seeing this stopped me in my tracks.  I immediately thought it was an intruder that had broken into my home, so I switched on the living room lights and readied myself.  Nobody.  My mind was inundated with all thoughts of what I could have possibly seen.  I didn’t want to admit that it was a “ghost” of some sort.  I went about my business and went back to bed.  The next day I had told my wife of this incident and she just chalked it to the drowsy state my mind was in.  Sounded reasonable.  And that was that.

A few weeks later, it was a normal night and my son was having a hard time sleeping.  As a doting father, I offered to lay next to him until he went to sleep.  Well, one thing led to another and I had drifted off to sleep.

Something poking the arch of my left foot awoke me; it happened several more times.  It felt as if someone’s finger was forcibly pushed into my arch over and over and over.  It was strange nonetheless and I assumed it was my little Yorkshire Terrier trying to get my attention so that I could lift him onto the bed.  To my shock, my little Yorkie was laying sound asleep in between me and my son.

A chill ran down my back, you know the kind you get when all the hairs on your body stand on its end and you get that unusual “tingle” all throughout.  I just froze and didn’t know what to do.  Thoughts of the supernatural crept into my somnolent mind; didn’t want to look towards my foot for fear of seeing that shadow apparition.  First thing that popped in my head…say a prayer.  The power of prayer should get me out of this mess.  I said every prayer that I knew from all those years of going to catholic school and church.

That calmed me for a moment but I was still a bit startled.  I checked the clock on my son’s nightstand and it read “2:30am.”  WHAT?!  Was this coincidence?  At that point I didn’t care, I summoned up what little courage I had and hopped out of bed to turn on the lights.  Nobody.  Nothing.  Safe to say, I had a hard time going back to sleep after that.

I told my wife of this but she again felt that I was just dreaming the whole thing up.  Since that time, whenever I was up alone at night and had to traverse about the house, I would flip the switch of every room if it meant getting me to my destination in the light.

Suffice to say nothing has happened since then and I’m am now back to watching those reality shows on the paranormal with greater interest knowing that something “unexplainable” happened to me.

I went from seeing ghosts like this…ghost 1

to this…Ghost 2

In a way I hope to encounter another paranormal experience but yet not.

Always eat your vegetables.

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Wesley was the most fastest, smartest, strongest, energetic student in his whole entire 4th grade class.

If there was a race, Wesley would come in first place. If there was a question that a teacher asked , Wesley would be the first to raise his hands and answer. If there was an arm wrestling contest, Wesley would always win. From the start of the school day till the end of the school day Wesley would be wide awake and ready to do anything.

Everyone in Wesley’s 4th grade class wanted to be like Wesley and they wanted to know what his secret was to being the most fastest, smartest, strongest, and energetic student in all of 4th grade. He didn’t know.

Everyday during lunch, Wesley would be discouraged at what his mom made for him. His lunch was always a sandwich and vegetable sticks. As he ate his lunch, Wesley would remember what his mom always told him, “Don’t forget, always eat your vegetables.”

Wesley looked at the other students and wished he had what they had…pizza, hamburger, fries, potato chips, and candy.

One day Wesley traded his vegetable sticks with Judy and had a pizza slice. It was simply delicious. The next day, Wesley traded his vegetable sticks with Nicky and got a hamburger. It was even more delicious. From then on, Wesley traded his lunch with a different classmate each day, and ate the lunch he always wished for.

After doing this for quite some time, Wesley started to feel sluggish at the start of the school day till the end of the school day. Everyone else moved around him energetically.

Soon Wesley noticed that if there was a race, he was the last to finish. If there was a question a teacher asked, all the other students were quick to raise their hands while he pondered the answer. If there was an arm wrestling contest, he lost.

During lunch break, Wesley started to notice that the other students were eating vegetable sticks with their sandwiches. Not one student was eating what he liked…pizza, hamburger, fries, potato chips, or candy.

Wesley wondered why the other students were eating what he used to eat.

Wesley asked Judy why she had vegetable sticks with her lunch. She replied, “My mom said it’s good for you. It keeps you healthy and makes you strong, smart, and fast.” Wesley turned to Nicky and asked him why he had vegetable sticks with his lunch. He answered, “My mom said the same thing. Vegetables make you strong, smart, and fast.”

Wesley looked at the lunch that his mom made for him. A sandwich and vegetable sticks. He remembered what his mom always told him before school, “Don’t forget, always eat your vegetables.” He soon realized that the reason why he was the fastest, strongest, smartest, and energetic was because he ate his vegetables.

From then on, Wesley never forgot to eat his vegetables.

Mark Kaneshige

“Monsters!!!”…Under The Bed

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Quinn was always afraid to go to sleep in his room at night. He thought that the monsters under his bed would grab him once the lights were out.

When he was ready to go to sleep, Quinn would get in his bed and ask his mom or dad to turn off the lights. If he was thirsty at night or needed to go to the bathroom, he would yell for his mom or dad to turn on the lights.

One night, Quinn was tired and ready for bed.

“Mom, I’m in the bed now, can you turn off the lights” yelled Quinn.

His mom stood in the doorway and said, “Quinn, you’re old enough to turn off the lights by yourself.”

“But mom, how will I get in the bed?” asked Quinn.

“What do you mean?” asked his mom.

“If I turn off the lights by myself, the monsters under the bed will grab me before I can get in bed” said a concerned Quinn.

“Nonsense, there are no such things as monsters” said his mom, “now turn off the lights and go to sleep.” With that, his mom walked away leaving Quinn with the dilemma of turning off the light.

Quinn looked at the light switch and then looked at his bed. He searched his room for an answer to his problem…and there it was, his baseball bat.

He hopped into bed and stretched out, with the bat in hand, and used it to turn off the light. CLICK! Victory! With the lights off, Quinn could now go to sleep.

The next night when Quinn was ready for bed, he looked for his bat. It was nowhere to be found.

“Mom have you seen my baseball bat?” shouted Quinn.

His mom stood in the doorway and said, “Oh, I let your cousin Nicky borrow it, he lost his.”

“But mom, I needed the bat to turn off the lights” said Quinn.

“Don’t be silly, just turn it off with your fingers” said his mom. And with that, his mom left.

Quinn looked at his fingers and said, “Nope, I’m not gonna do it.” He looked around his room and gathered up his toys and shoes and brought it onto his bed.

He looked at the light switch and picked up a toy. With careful aim, he threw the toy hoping it would hit the light switch off. SWOOSH, it soared through the air and…WHACK! It missed.

Quinn threw another toy…WHACK! He missed again.

He threw another toy and another and another…WHACK, WHACK, WHACK! No luck. He decided to use his sneakers.

This time Quinn went toward the edge of his bed, took careful aim and…SWOOSH! The shoes soared through the air and hit the light switch off. Quinn smiled and went to bed.

Just then, the lights came back on. “Young man, what are you doing?” angrily said his mom.

“I didn’t have my bat, so I used my shoes to turn off the lights” said a proud Quinn.

“Don’t do this again. Tomorrow night you use your fingers and turn off the lights like a normal person” said his mom.

“But mom, if I do that I won’t have time to get in the bed. The monsters’ll grab me!” Quinn said.

“There are no monsters under your bed!” said his mom, “Now go to sleep and don’t let this happen again.”

CLICK! His mom turned off the lights. Quinn laid in his bed with a look of concern.

“How am I gonna turn off the lights with my hand and get into bed before the monsters grab me?” Quinn pondered. His eyes lit up and he said with a smile, “Yes, I got it!”

The next night came and Quinn was ready for bed. He got four chairs and lined them up in a row. It went from the light switch to his bed.

Quinn got up on the first chair, that was near the door, and turned off the light. CLICK! He proceeded to the second chair and the third.

Because it was dark, Quinn almost lost his balance, “Whew! That was close” said Quinn. He slowly and carefully stepped onto the fourth and final chair and then finally plopped onto his bed.

Quinn smiled with pride knowing that he found a way to turn off the lights with his hand and get on the bed out of the monsters’ reach.

The next night came and Quinn prepared for bed, he walked into his room and saw that the chairs were gone.

“Mom!” yelled Quinn.

His mom rushed into his room, “What’s wrong?”

“What happened to the chairs I had here in my room?” asked Quinn.

“Why do you need the chairs?” asked his mom.

“I use the chairs to turn off the lights with my hand” said Quinn, “and then I walk on top of it to get to my bed. The monsters can’t get me.”

“There are no such things as monsters under the bed” said his mom, “turn off the lights like a normal person and walk into your bed. Do you understand?”

Quinn lowered his head and answered, “Yes, I understand.”

And with that, his mom left.

Quinn put his hand on the light switch and stretched his body toward his bed. He stretched and stretched and stretched and stretched but no luck. So close but yet so far.

“How am I gonna get into bed?” wondered Quinn.

He thought and thought and thought and then finally he got an answer.

“I know, I’ll run and jump into bed. If I run fast enough, the monsters won’t be able to grab me.”

With his hand on the switch, Quinn got into a runner’s stance. He counted, “One…two…THREE!”

CLICK! Off went the lights.

Quinn made a dash for his bed. Just before he could jump into bed, Quinn tripped over one of his toys.

KA-THUD! Quinn falls onto the floor, a few inches from his bed.

“OH NO! THE MONSTERS ARE GOING TO GET ME!” screamed Quinn. Frightened of what’s to come, he shuts his eyes.

A couple of seconds past, and then another, and then another. Quinn slowly opens his eyes and sees the underneath of his bed. There’s nothing but empty space.

Quinn smiles and chuckles to himself.

Just then…CLICK! the lights go on. “

Quinn what’s wrong? Why did you scream?” asked his mom.

“Oh nothing. I just slipped and fell when I was getting into bed” said Quinn.

“Are you alright?” his mom asked.

“I’m fine!” exclaimed Quinn, “I just need some sleep.” “

Okay then, get into bed and I’ll turn off the lights” said his mom.

Quinn stood up, grinned and proudly said, “That’s okay mom, I can turn off the lights by myself!”

His mom asked, “Aren’t you worried about the monsters under the bed?”

CLICK! Quinn turned off the lights and got into bed and said to his mom, “There are no such things as monsters under the bed. Good night.”

Mark Kaneshige

How to make a good mudpie better.

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Judy liked playing with mud, not in the mud mind you, but with the mud. She especially liked making mudpies. And she was real good at it.

On sunny days, Judy pulled out her little cart of supplies into her backyard and studied the dirt. She would grab a handful of dirt and feel it to see if it was the right texture and temperature for making mudpies.

“This is perfect” said Judy.

She would take an empty pail and shovel from her cart and fill it up with dirt. She would then add some water from a bottle into the pail and mix it with her long wooden spoon.

Judy would take the pail of mud over to a sunny flat section of the backyard and carefully spooned out some mud onto the ground. She always made four round mudpies because she liked the number four.

“I wish there was some way I could make my mudpies better” said Judy.

With that, she stepped back and let the sun bake her mudpies. While waiting for her pies to bake, Judy would smell the flowers, shoot some colored marbles, and play in the sandbox.

After doing all those things, Judy went to check on her mudpies. She always inspected it carefully before touching them.

“It’s ready” she said.

Judy picked up her mudpies and carried it over to a box labelled “Judy’s pies”. She opened it and put the mudpies in with her other collection of mudpies.

She stared at her collection long and hard and thought to herself, “There must be a way to make my mudpies better.”

She thought and thought and thought but could not come up with an idea. Feeling frustrated, Judy went into the house to find an answer.

She went into the kitchen where her mother was putting the finishing touches on a cake.

Judy noticed her mother placing some candy flowers and gumballs around the edges of the cake.  She then threw some candy sprinkles in the middle for color.

Her mother showed Judy the cake and asked her, “How do you like the way this cake looks?”

“Wow, it looks pretty” replied Judy.

After watching her mom decorate the cake, Judy got an idea.

“That’s what I’ll do” exclaimed Judy. She then ran out to the backyard.

Judy was hard at work making her mudpies. Before setting her pies out in the sun to bake, she picked some flowers, grabbed her marbles, and got some sand from the sandbox.

When she set her mudpies on the flat ground, Judy did exactly what her mom did when decorating the cake.

Flowers and marbles were place on the edges of the pie and sand was sprinkled in the middle for a little color.

While the sun baked her mudpies, Judy did not smell the flowers, shoot her marbles, or play in the sandbox, instead she went to “Judy’s pies” box.

She took out her mudpies and brought them over to the dirt section one by one. When she was finished, she went to check her other mudpies.

Judy carefully inspected her new mudpies and then picked them up. She carried them and placed them into “Judy’s pies” box. She looked at her creation but didn’t smile.

She ran into the house and came out with a pen. She scribbled something on the box and then stepped back. “Judy’s cakes” was now written on the box.

“There, that’s better” said Judy with a big smile. She looked at her colorful mudcakes and said, “Now that’s how to make a good mudpie better.”

Mark Kaneshige