My son, who’s almost four, finished preschool in late June. He’d been attending for two hours a day, Monday through Thursday – just a taste of school, a chance for him to be in the classroom with kids his own age. It was a successful year for him, so there was a lot to celebrate on the last day of school. The year would end with a slide show, the teacher told the class. All their parents were invited. They would set up a screen, and watch the year’s highlights. Since I really needed time to write, my wife said she would take some time off from work to go with him.
He was beyond excited. On the day of the slide show, he woke up at 5:30 in the morning, completely jazzed. He got dressed before going to the bathroom, and put his backpack on before sitting down for breakfast. “Mom is taking me to school! She’s coming with me for the slide show!” he told me. Afterwards there would be a party (!), and he would take his portfolio home (!) to show us his beautiful (!) artwork (!).
They left for the event, and I sat down at the kitchen table to type.
Two and half hours later, the car pulled into the driveway. He walked back in, threw his backpack down, sat on the couch, and frowned. “What happened?” I asked my wife.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “He had a great time, but as soon as we left the party he got all quiet.”
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I asked him.
“There wasn’t even a slide show,” he said.
“There wasn’t? What do you mean?”
“It was just a bunch of pictures of me and my friends.”
“Wait – you mean they couldn’t put the pictures up on the screen?”
“No Dad,” he said. “It was just pictures! They weren’t any slides! No big slides, no tunnel-slides, no water-slides…”
And then I got it. He’d expected exactly what anyone born after the era of circular slide-cartridges, and who didn’t know anything about Prezis or PowerPoints would expect from a slide show: a presentation of extremely exciting, totally awesome PLAYGROUND SLIDES.
After a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, 15 minutes of playing dinosaurs, and reading Three By the Sea, he was more than ready for a nap.
A few days later, we went to the town playground and made a slide show of our own. Here’s a brief sampling from it.
First you climb to the top…
Then put your arms up in the air…
And go!
Nancy Chapman says
July 23, 2017 at 9:36 amI see a future of pun making for this lad. Once he learns the world of homophones, watch out.
Reading Ginny Moon again and giving out copies liberally.
I just love her and it.
Benjamin Ludwig says
July 23, 2017 at 10:15 amThanks, Nancy! He’s already into rhymes and knock-knock jokes, so I’m hopeful!
Brenda rosenthal says
July 30, 2017 at 11:27 pmI just finished the book and enjoyed it and felt very moved by it. I am in a book club. Any chance of u coming to south Florida and taking to 50 to 75 avid readers?
Brenda Rosenthal
Benjamin Ludwig says
August 1, 2017 at 6:19 amThanks for letting me know, Brenda! SO glad you enjoyed spending time with Ginny. I’d be happy to Skype in to your club, if that’s of interest. And I’ll be down in Tampa in March for the annual Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference. Please feel free to reach out directly at ben@benjaminludwig.com!
Ken Taubenfeld says
August 4, 2017 at 8:30 amConsider this a big time fan letter, Mr. Ludwig. I just finished Ginny Moon and was so moved by your novel that I just had to reach out to you and thank you so much for this marvelous book. What a wonderful story and what a wonderful writing debut for you! I’ll be recommending it to everyone, and I hope it becomes a big best seller and affords you the chance to write more and more. You have a very special talent and I can’t wait for your next novel. So get busy, please! I know that’s purely selfish on my part, but you have no one to blame but yourself, right?
Seriously, I wish you the best and thank you once again for bringing tears to these old eyes.
Benjamin Ludwig says
August 7, 2017 at 9:47 amThanks for writing, Ken — and for recommending Ginny. Very much appreciate your kind words. I should be finishing up a draft of my second book this fall, so if you’d like to get updates you’re welcome to sign up for my monthly newsletter at http://www.benjaminludwig.com/mailing-list.
Again, thanks for reaching out. Being able to connect with readers means a lot to me.
Cheers,
Ben
Meg says
August 17, 2017 at 3:58 pmThat is the cutest story of disappointment ever!