About the Author:
Born and raised in New York City, Sheila Greenwald has written and illustrated about thirty books, many for children--and illustrated about forty others. She graduated from H.S. Music and Art as an art major and Sarah Lawrence College as a literature major. She is married and has two sons and one grandson. Pierre Collet-Derby is an author and illustrator of children's books based in Ontario, Canada. Born and raised in France, Pierre spent most of his childhood doodling (particularly during math class) and always knew he would grow up to make his living as an artist. Happily, he now spends his days drawing pictures, writing stories and strumming his guitar (or ukulele depending on his mood). His clients include Candlewick Press, Simon and Schuster, Penguin Random House, Blue Apple Books, Dreamworks Animation and Highlights Magazine. Pierre's debut author/illustrated picture book, Barnaby Never Forgets, was released in July 2017. He also recently illustrated the Bossy Flossie series written by Sheila Greenwald and Goodnight Selfie by Scott Menchin.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
Chapter 1: The Holidays Are Coming
“The holidays are coming,” our teacher, Ms. Cabot, said.
Holiday break was exactly five weeks and three days away. I was keeping track in my planner.
“I bet you’re all thinking about eating turkey with your family and opening presents,” she said.
“Yes,” everyone cheered.
I cheered, too. I had given my holiday present list to my parents.
I was excited about the newest Funny Face doll. I even cut out her picture from a catalog and put it where they couldn’t miss it.
“So can you imagine what it’s like to have no presents and no home in which to open them?” Ms. Cabot went on.
“Who doesn’t have holiday presents?” Imogene Dingle asked.
“Not everyone can afford presents,” Ms. Cabot told her. “The holidays can be a really rough time for some families.”
Everyone was very quiet for a minute.
“Can’t anyone help?” Gloria Tubbs asked.
“Yes,” Ms. Cabot said. “Every year our school holds a charity drive. I bet our class can think of ways to raise money that will make the holidays better for a lot of families.”
“A bake sale,” Lulu Marx called out.
“We could go door-to-door in our buildings asking for donations,” Daphne Gomez suggested.
“Wonderful ideas,” Ms. Cabot said, writing them on the board. “I’m sure you’ll come up with even more when you think about it. After that we’ll divide into groups. Each group will have a booth at the school charity drive next Monday.”
“I’ve got a great idea for a booth,” Imogene whispered to me while Ms. Cabot handed out flyers telling the time and date of the fundraiser. “It will raise the most money.”
I guessed Imogene was lying and didn’t have a single idea for a booth yet. Neither did I. But, lucky for me, great ideas and making them happen are what I’m best at.
Chapter 2: Thinking About It
My name is Flossie Popkin, and as I said, great ideas are what I’m best at.
Though I have brown hair like my dad and it’s curly like my mom’s, the person I take after most is my Great-Grandpa Morris, who was bald.
Great-Grandpa was famous for dreaming up successful businesses. I’m not famous yet, but I’ve dreamed up a lot of businesses. Every time I get a great idea for one, I start to tingle and glow from head to toe.
I wondered if Great-Grandpa tingled and glowed from head to toe every time he came up with one of his ideas.
But at lunch, I wasn’t tingling and glowing, at least not yet. I needed to come up with my next great idea.
Gloria also did not look happy. She could hardly eat her lunch.
“Those poor kids who have no gifts,” she said with a sigh. “It’s so sad.”
“My parents always give us holiday presents,” Daphne said. “It wouldn’t seem like a holiday without them. I want a Funny Face doll this year,” she told us. “They’re the best.”
“The best are the dolls my mom makes out of socks and beads,” Imogene disagreed. “I’ve got tons.”
“Then you should donate some to a charity drive toy booth,” Daphne suggested.
“If I did that, they’d be gone in a minute,” Imogene boasted. “But we can’t give them away. Every year my mom sells them at a holiday craft fair in our living room.”
“Can I help?” I asked. “I’m great at selling. I had a lemonade stand and a vegetable sale. I even had a beauty parlor.”
“I know all about the beauty parlor,” Imogene reminded me, pointing to her head.
“Cutting curly hair is harder than I thought,” I said. It felt like the millionth time I had apologized for the Mohawk I gave her by mistake.
“A lemonade stand on the sidewalk or haircuts in your kitchen are not the same as selling handmade dolls,” Imogene snapped. “We even serve punch and cheese with crackers.”
“Don’t serve crackers,” I advised. “They make a mess. I would know. I’m great at snacks.”
“You’re great at bossing everybody around,” Imogene muttered. “Bossy Flossie. Who could work with you?”
“Me!” Billy Lark shouted from the other end of the table.
Imogene rolled her eyes. “That’s because you live in Flossie’s building,” she scoffed.
“It’s because we’re partners,” Billy protested. “Our vegetable stand at last year’s Street Fair Fundraiser was a hit.”
“Billy is ready for my ideas,” I told Imogene. “Some people aren’t.”
“Some people aren’t ready for you, Bossy Flossie,” Imogene said.
“Bossy Flossie, Bossy Flossie,” Imogene’s friend Charlie Diaz teased.
“Bossy just means I know how to make things happen,” I told Charlie.
“So what are you going to make happen next?” Imogene asked.
“Coming soon,” I said, because I didn’t know yet.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.