Read This Short Story With A Child

Read This With A Child 

“Danger In Beaver Valley” 

It’s no secret I grew up hating to read. My life’s work has included the production of television commercials, video programs, and films. Out of that background come the adventure and mystery books I write for kids, especially those who might not like to read, as well as lots of short stories. Following is one of of those stories. I’ve been reading them recently with my grandchildren ages 9 and 12. We take turns reading out loud. There are questions at the end of each story, and they’ve answered every one right. You might like to try this next story out with your children, grandchildren, students, or wherever you work with kids. If you choose to do this, I’d love to hear what happened. It’s my hope it will unlock an interest in reading, and ultimately lead to the experience and enjoyment of my books.

 

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Danger in Beaver Valley 

 Benny heard stories from his friends about the dangers his beaver colony had escaped before he was born. He wasn’t supposed to, but one day he heard it for himself. The elders were talking about a pack of wolves that chased the colony from its home years ago. While playing tag with one of his friends, Benny hid behind a large boulder. That’s when he heard the older beavers talking. They sat in a circle. Whenever they met like this, it was called the council. Young beavers, like Benny, were not allowed to be anywhere near the council. And that’s when he heard an old rabbit say, “One of our scouts reported seeing wolves at the top of a ridge on the other side of our valley.” The other beavers gasped at the thought. “What does this mean?” one of them asked. The oldest member of the council took a deep breath. All of the others turned to listen to his wisdom. He remained silent for several seconds, before taking another deep breath. Then he looked up. “It means we must prepare.” “Prepare? Prepare what?” “As long as we’ve lived in this valley, there have been no enemies here. Now...things have changed. We must move quickly.” Benny’s little heart beat so loud and so fast, he was sure the others would hear him. “We’ll hold council again tomorrow, when the sun is in the middle of the sky. Each of you must bring your suggestions then. But remember, ever since the big mud slide, our stream is too low to reach our houses. We must find a way to fix that or the wolves will find us for sure this time.” After making sure none of the elders could see him, Benny crawled quietly away from that rock until he came into a clearing. “Gotcha!” a voice squealed. Now Benny was sure his heart had just stopped. He grabbed his chest to catch his beaver breath. “Don’t ever do that again, Ralph.” “Do what?” Benny waved one paw. “Never mind. We gotta get outta here.” “I don’t get it,” Ralph said. “Just follow me. I’ll tell you about it later.” Benny and Ralph climbed up to the top of the nearest ridge, sat down, and looked out at the valley. Both sides sloped gently to the bottom where a slow, shallow stream flowed by. Benny and his friends often played and splashed in the stream because his house sat only a few feet from the edge of the water. Trees, young and old, grew well in the valley because it often rained there. And the ground was covered with a soft carpet of lush green grass and lots of beautiful flowers. Benny and his friends liked to play hide and seek in the tall grass. After looking out over the valley for several minutes, Ralph finally asked, “So what were you gonna tell me about?” First, Benny gulped. “If I tell you something, you gotta promise not to say a word to anyone else, promise?” Ralph nodded, then he gulped, too. “Our colony is in trouble” Benny began. “Did you ever wonder why our houses were all built on the bank of the stream and not in the water?” Ralph thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Uh...no.” “Well, I think the water used to be higher. It must have gone down a long time ago, and nobody did anything about it because wolves don’t live around here.” Ralph’s little beaver body began to tremble. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice trembled, too. “Did you say wo...wol...wol...wolves?” Benny nodded. “I’ve heard my dad talk about them to the neighbors, and they sound very scary.” “They are scary,” Benny said. “We have to do something. The beaver council is too old to save us.” Ralph reached over and grabbed Benny with his paw. “We are never to speak about the council.” “I know, but this time is different.” That night, Benny found his father sitting by the water’s edge. “Dad,” he began, “why did you teach me to cut down trees with my teeth?” His father smiled. “Because. A beaver’s teeth keep growing. If you don’t use them, they can become very dangerous for you. A beaver must always wear down the ends of his teeth.” “And why did you teach me to hold my breath under water? I can hardly get under the water it’s so shallow here.” “It wasn’t always like this,” his father said as he looked out over the stream. “It concerns me that the elders haven’t done anything about this.” Without even thinking, Benny blurted out, “They plan to.” A look of shock spread across his father’s face as he turned to Benny. “What do you know of the council?” Benny turned away but his father reached under his chin and turned his little head back toward him. “Well, I heard them talking by accident.” “Accident?” “Um, I was hiding by a rock, but I heard them talking. They said there are wolves in the area.” His father leaped to his feet. “Wolves?” With that he turned and ran into the forest. “Now I’ve done it,” Benny muttered. He was still picking at his fur when Ralph walked up behind him. “Hey!” Ralph said in a loud voice. Benny jumped straight into the air and landed, on his back, in the stream. “What’d you do that for?” “Sorry,” Ralph said. “You wanna do anything?” “We need to get our friends together and cut down as many trees as we can as fast as we can.” “What for?” “Can’t tell you now. Let’s just get started.” For the rest of that day, and most of the next morning, dozens of Benny’s friends cut down trees with their strong teeth, removed branches from them, and stacked everything on the bank of the stream. Suddenly Benny stopped working, looked up at the sun and said, “Gotta go.” As he ran off, Ralph chased after him until they came to the big boulder. Both beavers slithered like snakes until Benny motioned for them to stop. That’s when Ralph heard the voices. “Who’s that?” Benny waved with his paw and said, “Shhh.” But as he peered around the side of that large rock, he was not prepared for what he saw. “That’s your Paw, ain’t it?” Ralph whispered. Benny nodded, then he perked up his ears to listen. His father told the council that he knew about the wolves, but Benny was relieved when his father didn’t say where he’d heard the news. He continued talking about the stream and what he thought they needed to do. Then one of the older beavers slapped his tail on the ground. The others turned to listen. “We must build a new dam,” he said in a quivering voice. “But it’ll take days, just to gather the materials,” another said. Just then a bumble bee began buzzing around Benny’s head. He swatted at it a couple of times, but the bee wouldn’t leave him alone. Finally it looked like he was about to sting Benny right in the middle of his head. “Get away from me!” he shouted as he moved out from his hiding place, waving his paws wildly over his head. It was then that he realized what he had just done. Slowly he turned his head toward the elders and noticed that every eye in the council, including his father’s eyes, were glaring straight at him. “Oops,” Benny said with a small giggle. By this time, Ralph had crawled away, leaving Benny all by himself to face the elders. “Come here,” the oldest beaver ordered. Benny’s legs wobbled under him, and his tail dragged along the ground as he made his way to the others. “What is the meaning of this?” another of the elders demanded. Benny explained how he had hidden the day before, and what he’d heard. He told them he came back this time to see what he could do to help. All the elders laughed at that. “What’s one small beaver going to do to help the colony?” one asked. “Well, right now, all of my friends are cutting down trees and gathering branches as fast as we can. We’ve been dragging them to the stream since yesterday.” “Splendid,” the old beaver said. “We shall start tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” Benny’s father asked. “We should start right now.” “But you aren’t a member of the council. What right do you have?” “I know,” Benny’s father answered, “but soon I will be.” The other beavers did as he said and soon they began dragging logs and branches out into the water. Before long, the sun went down, the moon came up, and that’s when Benny heard something that made him shiver all over. A single wolf howled in the distance. Then another did the same thing, then another, and another. The beaver colony continued working through the night, dragging more branches, fitting them into place, and patching the holes in the dam with mud. By the first light of morning, Benny was excited to see that water in the stream had already risen high enough that it now reached the edge of his house. A few minutes later, the place was completely surrounded by water. But he also noticed that the wolf howling had come closer and closer in the last hour. Suddenly several of the beavers slapped their flat tails on the water at the same time, causing a cracking sound that could be heard throughout the valley. Beavers that had been working on the bank rushed to the safety of the rising water. Benny heard the tails slapping in the distance as he began dragging his last large branch. Then, only a few feet behind him, he heard something that nearly caused him to stop breathing. An evil growl sliced through the afternoon air. But Benny didn’t even bother to turn around. He dropped his branch and ran as fast as his beaver legs would carry him, reaching the water just as a grey wolf snarled and skidded to a stop on the bank behind him. Benny skimmed across the surface for a few seconds, like a skipping stone, before he sank into the water and turned around. That’s when he saw six slobbering wolves standing at the edge of the water. He rolled over on his back, put two paws up to his ears, and flapped his tongue back at those wolves. “What’s a matter?” he taunted. “Are you big scary wolves afraid of a little water?” The wolves paced back and forth along the river bank, searching for any way they could get to Benny, but they couldn’t find one. “Aw,” Benny called out, his voice echoing across the smooth still water, “can’t you guys swim?” The biggest wolf bared his teeth and growled back. That sound also echoed out across the pond. By this time all the other beavers in the colony had come out and stood on top of their houses. When several began to cheer, Benny swam over to a stump sticking out of the water, climbed up on it and took a bow. Some of the other young beavers invited him to their houses so they could ask questions. “Were you scared?” one asked. “Of course I was. Only a stupid beaver wouldn’t be afraid of something as scary as a pack of wolves nipping at his back feet.” That made the others quiver. “How come they didn’t chase you into the water?” another asked. Benny straightened up with pride. “That’s because wolves don’t know what we know.” “Yeah? And what’s that?” “Some animals like living in water and others have to stay on dry ground.” “It’s a good thing you made sure the dam got fixed,” the beaver next to him said. “Sure is,” another added, “else you’d be a goner.” “The rest of us, too.” “I’m sure glad we’re the water kind,” one of the little girls said. “Me, too,” the others said all at once. Benny enjoyed being the hero of his colony, but it was getting dark and he had to get home. He dove under the water and streaked toward the pile of sticks, mud, and stones that he called home. When he reached the entrance, he stopped, raised his tail high into the air, and smacked it on the water with a crack, just in case any of the others were still watching. Then he disappeared under the water and came up inside the chamber of his house. Next morning, the council met out in the water, near the new dam. It was the oldest one who spoke first. “Benny my boy, if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking, after you heard us talking the other day...” he stopped speaking for a few moments, “no telling what would have happened.” The old beaver looked around to the others. “All in favor of choosing Benny as an honorary member of the council, let you vote be heard now.” Every member of the council slapped his tail on the water, creating such a loud noise, all the other beavers thought it was another warning and raced for the safety of their homes again. Benny looked out and smiled. “Silly beavers,” he said. That’s when Ralph swam silently up behind him and said just one word. “Boo!” Benny dove to the bottom of the stream and stayed down there for over fifteen minutes. When he finally did come back up, the entire colony laughed, cheered, and slapped their tails on the water. Benny laughed, too. - The End – Questions: Danger in Beaver Valley When the beaver sat in a circle, to talk, what was it called? What were the beavers afraid of? What was wrong with the stream? What did Benny and his friends do to help the colony? What made Benny jump up and yell outside the council meeting? What did Benny hear when the sun went down and the moon came up? How many wolves came to the edge of the water? How did the old beavers reward Benny? What did Benny’s best friend, Ralph, do at the end of the story? Answers: Danger in Beaver Valley The Council Wolves It was too slow Cut down trees A bee Howling wolves Six They made him an honorary member of the Council He scared Benny when he said, “Boo!” Write and tell me about your experience of reading this story with a child. 

Blog: https://middlegradeadventureandmystery.blogspot.com/    Email: mander8813@hotmail.com

Turn your struggling, reluctant reader into an avid reader. Especially boys.

Turn your struggling, reluctant reader into an avid reader. Especially boys.

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Confessions Of A Reluctant Reader

 Confessions Of A Reluctant                             Reader-Turned-Author

By Max Elliot Anderson



My father published over 70 books during his lifetime. Some of his books included a couple of popular kid’s series, yet I never read any of them. I grew up in a family with six other siblings, so it was easy for some things to be missed. In my case, no one noticed I didn’t spend a lot of time reading. Or, I might just have been good at hiding it.

We lived in a rural area of Michigan near Muskegon. Our home was situated on several wooded acres, with few other houses anywhere nearby. Not far away was Wolf Lake, where I spent endless summer days. It was common for me to hit the back door, before breakfast, and not to return until dark. And I wonder how many miles I put on that rusty, old junker of a bike back then?

Along with my friends, we used to roam the vast woods surrounding our house. The area included miles of trails, a river, and lots of climbing trees. What boy could be expected to think about reading a book with such a variety of places to run, play, swim, and ride a bike?

Looking back, I can see now that I was a person who learned by watching, as opposed to reading about something. Show me and I get it right away. Read about it, or give me printed instructions, and who knows? My friends and I invented a host of pretend characters and situations from cops and robbers, or cowboys and Indians, to war games.

If I wasn’t involved in action, often a little dangerous, I wasn’t happy. Skinned knees, elbows, and knuckles were not uncommon. In some of those situations, my father used to smile and say, “Boys will be boys.” This drove my sisters crazy! But the wisdom of his words still linger in my mind as I observe boys today.

Our daughter teaches third grade in a public school . We've had many conversations concerning the boys in her class, and issues surrounding reading. This has provided a real life lab for me to discuss some of my ideas concerning the kinds of material that boys like to read and why. It’s sad to know that so many boys live under a medicated cloud when all they really need, in many cases, is to run, jump, yell, and play until they drop. Whoever came up with the idea that a boy should sit in a chair for most of the time when the sun is up, in a typical classroom setting, just doesn’t understand boys.

Lest you think my situation is unique, with an author for a father, and not caring to read as a child, consider this. A recent article in People Magazine reported the story of author James Patterson. Mr. Patterson is one of America’s most prolific authors. He has a young son, and this boy doesn’t like to read. So Mr. Patterson has established a web site at http://www.readkiddoread.com/ The central focus of this site is to encourage kids to read, especially reluctant reader boys. I’ve also established a blog, Books For Boys http://booksandboys.blogspot.com/ and Middle Grade Adventures and Mysteries https://middlegradeadventureandmystery.blogspot.com
Later, as I attended school, I found other ways to hide my lack of interest in reading. It was common for me to approach book reports a little differently than other students in my class. I’d read the opening chapter from the book, the middle chapter, and the last chapter. From there I had a pretty good idea who the main character was, and a gist of the story. Then I’d just make things up as I went. A little later on, I suspected the reports were only busy work so I decided to test that theory. Right in the middle of one of my reports I wrote, “If you’re still reading this, I’ll treat you to a steak dinner at the restaurant of your choice.” If I remember correctly, I got an A on that report which, of course, the teacher never read. I didn’t understand at the time that it was the reading of the book which was intended for my benefit, and the report was not the important part. I can only imagine how kids might be using AI for book reports today.

In spite of my lack of reading for enjoyment, I managed to finish high school, and graduated from college with a degree in Psychology. It was during my college years I began to read more diligently, because I loved the subject matter.

In my adult life, I began to explore why I hadn’t enjoyed reading as a boy. I visited bookstores and the library where I looked at hundreds of books. That’s where I saw some interesting patterns in many of the books. They had too much detail for my taste. Descriptions of people, places, and things tended to be far more than I wanted too. Large blocks of words, sometimes several long paragraphs together, would have defied me, as a child, to jump in.

Even as an adult, I am easily distracted. If I hear something, I have to look up to see what it is. That causes me to lose my place on a page, and it’s frustrating to go looking for the spot to begin again.

At the same time, I came to understand how reading is one of the most important skills we need in order to prepare for a successful future. Not many people get to grow up like I did, where my dad was also a motion picture producer. I spent as much time as possible hanging around the studio during production. In those early years, I decided that I also wanted to tell stories through film. When I was eight years-old, I was “killed” by a hit-and-run driver, while riding my bike. But…since the movie I was in was being shot in black and white, the blood that ran from my nose, mouth and ear, came from a chocolate syrup bottle.

I found that I could pursue a career in the film and video production world without spending a lot of time reading. Try doing that if your dream is to become a doctor or lawyer. But since I was primarily a visual learner, it made perfect sense for me to find my way into a more visual form of expression. I’ve produced, shot, or directed over 500 national television commercials for True Value Hardware Stores for example. And I’ve told thousands of stories, visually, for industrial, medical, and retail clients in my video production business.

With my new understanding of the critical importance of reading in our education, I set out to write the kinds of books that I would have enjoyed as a child. They are short on detail and description, and contain a lot of humor, action, adventure, mystery, dialog, and heart-pounding action. I don’t spend a lot of time on descriptions and detail, so readers won’t be intimidated by those large blocks of type that used to stop me in my tracks.

You might say that I’m on sort of a mission in order to get kids interested in reading, especially our boys. 

The first thing I would say is to let kids read anything that interests them. As a child, I enjoyed collecting coins and stamps. And I could easily spend time reading about those hobbies. No one ever took the time to encourage me to take the next step and find material I could read for enjoyment. So be on the lookout for signs that your children, or students, may not be reading as they should.

In the early stages, don’t worry about what is being read. It doesn’t matter if it is found on the Internet - under supervision of course - or newspapers and magazines. Watch for things that interest your child or student, and then steer them to material on those subjects.

I further suggest parents look for books that are below grade level at first. There is no hurry in pushing the reading process. What is important is to get it started on a firm foundation. This can include the use of graphic novels, or even comic books. It’s the reading process that matters here.

Parents can try reading together, out loud. In many cases, a child will listen to the first few chapters and, if the story catches their imagination, they’re happy to take it from there. Again, this may happen early on, or it may take several books before the child develops an interest in finding out what happens next.

My books are written so that most of the chapters end in a cliffhanger. The reader simply must find out what happens next. A mother recently wrote to tell me this happened with her reluctant reader son. He came into the room where she sat and slammed one of my books onto the table.

“I know what this guy’s trying to do,” he grumbled.
“What?” his mother asked.
“He’s trying to get me to read the next chapter.”
He went on to explain how the chapter he’d finished just ended. Then he picked up the book and read the last line to her.
“See,” he said. “He’s just trying to get me to read the next chapter.”
She was thrilled to tell me he stomped off into the next room and did exactly that. And I get a lot of emails and letters like this concerning the effect my books have on young readers.
Some parents have said, “No matter what I do, my child simply will not read.” When you press a little harder, what you find is most of their recreational time is spent in front of the TV, a computer, playing video games, streaming programming, or on other devices.

My wife and I have raised two children, so I’m not above suggesting a small bribe. Parents forget how much power they have to positively influence their children. I suggest to these parents that they use the TV, computer, video games, even the cell phone with older kids, as rewards, not rights. So a parent might say, “After you’ve read two chapters in your book, and can tell me about them, then you can…”

Children tell me that reading one of my action-adventures or mysteries is like being in - not reading - but being in an exciting or scary movie. That’s probably because I think visually first, and write like that in my books.

When I’m writing, I like to turn the lights down, and burn a candle next to my computer. This helps to put me in a frame of mind to write. I put props and pictures around my writing room that help further set the mood. In the case of writing Legend of the White Wolf, I tore up a calendar to spread out several pictures of wolves. But probably the most important element I use is music. I always play mood appropriate music for the scene I’m writing. When I speak in classrooms, I demonstrate this technique which never fails to capture the imagination of the students and the teacher.

When I’m writing a spooky scene for one of my books, I will only begin writing after dark. All the lights are off, with just the illumination coming from a candle and the glow of my computer screen. I like to write hot weather scenes during warm weather and winter scenes when it’s freezing cold outside. This doesn’t always work out with my schedule, but it helps me to be as much into all elements of a scene as possible. Sometimes I’ve turned the heat way up in the house in order to feel the heat.

As I write this article, the music of Scott Joplin is playing on my stereo. I have his complete piano works on a four CD set. His music conveys a perfect combination of upbeat, entertaining tunes; perfect for the frame of mind I want to be in when writing about my books for boys. I say for boys, but I’m happy to report in addition to reluctant readers, my books are equally enjoyed by avid readers, girls, and even adults.

Finally, if I’ve accomplished nothing else, I hope I’ve encouraged adults, who are responsible for children and their reading, to look for opportunities to match the right reading material with the right child. There is no, “One size fits all,” when it comes to reading. But reading allows children, and adults, to exercise a God-given gift that is shrinking in its use and importance. That gift is our imagination. Too much of what we experience today comes from others who decide, by the music they use and the pictures or words we hear from a screen, what we should think, how we should feel, and what our reactions should be. Reading engages all aspects of our imagination.
In the end, remember that readers are the leaders others follow.
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 Mander8813@aol.com

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