I wouldn't simply be answering questions on a panel. I was going to have to write something. And read it aloud. And it would have to be funny.
AAAHHHHhahhahahahahah. Hold me.
I read as David Levithan looks on. He isn't
grimacing! Photo by author Ami Allen-Vath.
Then I got an idea. And it was insane. So I emailed David and said, "Is this insane?" And he said, "Yes, that's insane. Try it."
So I did. I took my all-time favorite novel JANE EYRE and crossed it with THE CROSSOVER by Kwame Alexander (the Newberry award-winning verse novel of basketball and growing up and family and vocabulary! and so much more. Go read it.)
is her name.
But Homely McSmarty is her claim to fame.
Folks call her dull
'cause her countenance is plain,
so downright gloomy, every day she looks the same.
Her hair is drab, her height is small.
See, she’s a governess from Lowood,
LeBoring in a shawl.
on the road to Thornfield Hall?
I rode with Pilot, and that witch
she made me fall.
Had to hobble, leaning on her,
limping grimly to my horse.
She spoke of Mr. Rochester
knowing not that I am he, of course.
(I’m kind of a jerk,
so I didn’t say anything.
Not at first.)
“the master’s old school.
Put on a brooch or you’ll look like a fool.”
Jane comes when I beckon,
serves me my tea. Only speaks when I’ve spoken,
a polite detainee.
Her mind, it is sweet, though,
a salve for my soul.
Until I ask, “Am I handsome?”
and she answers, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sir."
Jane hears a strange sound.
At the moan of a demon, she’s up, looks around.
Finds me engulfed in a madwoman’s flame,
But hasn’t a clue who’s really to blame.
My wife she is cray, living up in the attic.
Tried to burn me alive,
but Jane wouldn’t have it.
She picked up a basin and put out the fire.
See, she stopped me from burning,
but not my desire.
she’d do me some good.
The pale little thing
in her cloak and her hood.
Her wit, it delights me,
her eyes, they inspire.
If Jane’s love’s for sale
then I am the buyer.