Story Thieves Part 25

Mr. Wilc.o.x stepped aside, and Kiel Gnomenfoot walked into the cla.s.sroom, a half smile on his face.

"Hey," Kiel said, and waved.

Owen's mouth dropped open, and he slowly turned to look back over his shoulder.

Bethany looked at him for a second, then winked.

Mr. Wilc.o.x started to leave, then turned to give Owen a look. Owen might have imagined it, but just for the briefest of moments, it almost looked like the princ.i.p.al's face melted into nothing, like a mannequin's face, or the face of n.o.body.

Owen blinked, and Mr. Wilc.o.x stared back at him, a hint of a grin on his face. The princ.i.p.al's eyes shifted to Bethany quickly, then back to Owen, and the man slowly shook his head. Not just yet, the look seemed to say. Then Mr. Wilc.o.x held up an old-looking math book and tapped it twice. Study hard, probably.

With that, the princ.i.p.al left the cla.s.sroom, and Owen turned back to welcome Kiel Gnomenfoot to reality with the rest of the cla.s.s. Even after everything, he couldn't help but smile as "Kyle" gave him a wink.

Sure, this was the fictional former hero of a series of children's books, now joining the cla.s.s of a real school in the nonfictional world. But it's not like that automatically meant things were going to get all crazy.

After all, how much damage could one boy do?.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

I never know who to thank, James thought, then paused. Or why I narrate my own life like this. He sighed, tapping his pen against his cheek as he thought.

Obviously, he needed to thank Liesa Abrams Mignogna, who from the beginning had asked, "Why can't this James character be an author?" Then, "And can he be wearing a Batman shirt?"

And of course James couldn't thank Michael Bourret enough, given that Michael was his agent, and maybe, dare he say . . . friend?

No, he daren't. So just "agent" it was.

Then there was everyone else at Aladdin: Annie, Mara, Fiona, Carolyn, Katherine, Adam, Laura, Mary, Christina, and everyone who shepherded the book from its start as just a tiny sheep baby (Lamb? James wondered) to its current incarnation as full-grown, curly-haired Mr. Sheep. James furrowed his brow. A shepherd a.n.a.logy? Shouldn't there be something with genies, since the imprint is called Aladdin? He shrugged. No one reads these things anyway, so why worry about consistent creative choices?

Not that he ever really worried about consistent creative choices.

Then there were those who personally supported James. Your Thaphnes, your Dan and Saras, your Shannons, your Brandons, your Everyone Elses. "Maybe it's not as bad as you think," they'd say, and James would shrug. Anything was possible, he supposed. They definitely needed to be acknowledged for that.

But what about all the fans? Out of everyone, they were the most important people to say "Thank you!" to! But how to do it? There was no possible way to thank all of them, even with the time machine James's future self had just gifted him. Oh, horrible irony! Was it irony? James frowned, not sure. Twitter would know . . . but that way lay madness.

And then there were the teachers, the librarians, and the booksellers. The magical, selfless geniuses who changed children's lives on a daily basis, and who every so often would push James's books into the hands of a reader who wasn't quite done with fairy tales just yet. Thanking all those people would take months, or years if James were lazy about it! Even if he just started with, say, Kim and Katie Laird- OOOH, NEW CAT VIDEO ON THE INTERNETS!.

. . . Ha! Cla.s.sic, that cat. Now, where was he? Something about thanking people. Right!

Except that thanking people made James wonder what would happen if he left someone's name off by mistake. Would people get offended? Doubt their contribution? Not thank him in their books?! That would be horrible! Sure, his family would know he loved them, since James was always incredibly thankful for their support, but everyone else? And even worse, what about those who didn't contribute anything, but just a.s.sumed James was referring to them when thanking "everyone else"? It made him shudder with horror.

Nope. There was just no good way to do this. James crumpled up the paper he'd been doodling on instead of writing down names like he was supposed to have been doing. And if there was no good way to do something, that meant he shouldn't do it. After all, not everyone had acknowledgments pages, right?

All people really had to know was how honored James was by anyone reading his work, and how much he hoped they enjoyed it. And what better way to show that . . . than by SENDING EVERY READER A THOUSAND DOLLARS IN CASH! That was a much better idea than some cliched acknowledgments page! If readers finished the book, all they'd have to do was [You're not putting this in. No.-Liesa] and James would send them a thousand dollars in cash!

Perfect. This would be the best acknowledgments page ever.

Strangely enough, JAMES RILEY, author of the Half Upon a Time series, doesn't actually exist. There's no record of "James Riley" before his fairy tale series came out, and sources say that the man in his author photos is just an actor. It's almost as if someone made up this fictional "James Riley" ident.i.ty solely to hide his true ident.i.ty. But why? And who would go to such lengths? Certainly n.o.body comes to mind.

SIMON & SCHUSTER, NEW YORK.

Meet the author, watch videos, and get extras at.

KIDS.SimonandSchuster.com.

authors.simonandschuster.com/James-Riley.

ALSO BY JAMES RILEY.

Half Upon a Time.

Twice Upon a Time.

Once Upon the End.

end.