My Sister Is a Lot
It starts with a little idea…
Nora (child)“Can it be about a big sister and a little sister? Mine keeps talking when I’m trying to do stuff. And touching it.”
Parent“What happens in the story?”
Nora (child)“Um… they’ve got a kite, and it gets stuck. The little one helps. But she’s still annoying after. Don’t make her suddenly perfect.”
Bea has a kite, a careful plan and a little sister with seventeen suggestions. Then the wind changes everything. Open the book to see what happens next.
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Read the whole story as text
A lot
My sister Pip is a lot. A lot of questions. A lot of singing. A lot of things in her pockets that used to be alive. I had made a kite for the meadow picnic. Blue on one side, yellow on the other. All it needed was a tail. Pip had seventeen suggestions.
The plan
“It needs a tail that swooshes,” she said. “And bells. And a sandwich.” “Kites do not eat sandwiches.” “How do you know?” I took my kite to the hill. Pip followed, singing a song about a sandwich in the sky. My plan was simple: reach the hill, fly the kite, have five quiet minutes.
One tiny mistake
At the top, I unwound the string. Pip held the kite. “Wait until I say now.” “Now?” “Not that now. My now.” But a gust lifted the kite before either of us was ready. Pip let go. It swooped sideways, over the clover, and straight into the hawthorn. Something tore.
The stuck kite
The kite hung just out of reach. Its tail had looped around a twig. I pulled. The paper crackled. I stopped pulling. Below us, the picnic was beginning. Mouse was putting the kites in a row. “It was supposed to be ready,” I said. For once, Pip didn't answer.
Underneath
Then Pip crouched down. “There's a tunnel.” “It isn't a tunnel. It's a gap.” “Same thing, if you're small.” Through the leaves, I saw what she meant. The trapped tail hung low inside the hedge. “Can you reach the ribbon?” I asked. “Just the ribbon. Don't pull the kite.” Pip nodded.
Small hands
Pip wriggled underneath. I held the string loose. “Up a little,” I said. “Now towards me.” The loop slipped off the twig. The kite dropped into my paws. Pip backed out with leaves between her ears. “There,” she said. Not loudly. Not seventeen times. Just once.
A different plan
The corner had a rip. Pip's pocket had a patch of paper, three ribbons and a biscuit crumb. We patched the corner and tied on a new tail. “You hold it,” I told her. “I'll say now.” This time we waited for the wind. “Now.” Pip let go. Our kite climbed.
Enough room
We lay in the grass and watched it sway. Pip started humming her sandwich song. “Can we have five quiet minutes?” I asked. She thought about that. “Then the song?” “Then the song.” My sister was still a lot. But the sky was enormous. There was room for both of us.
An illustrated example of the experience we are developing. Talebrix is still in development; this book was not printed by the device.