Here's an excerpt from a book I wrote for a class assignment (unpublished). Oh, first a word of explanation. The assignment was to collect stories on a particular theme from a group of people who had something in common. I chose the theme of Food, and the group of people was my family, largely my children. This excerpt is from one of my daughters, and it proves to me that children writing from life is the most charming, honest kind of writing ever:
THE COOKIE HOUSE
I was walking home from kindergarten in the fall, and it was windy and kind of cold outside. When I finally got home I went in through the back door that went straight into the kitchen. Every surface of the kitchen was covered in cookies, hundreds of cookies, of all different kinds--not just chocolate chip, but mint chocolate chip, chocolate chocolate chip, butterscotch cookies, cinnamon cookies. I wanted to try one of each kind. The house smelled so good, it was like it was made of cookies. And it was warm and so nice. My mom let me eat all the cookies I wanted and I wanted to try one of each, but I got too full. I liked the mint chocolate chip because mint has always been my favorite flavor. Some of the older kids would come in all excited and say, "Did you try this one yet? Did you try this one? This one's my favorite." I wanted to stay in that kitchen forever.