Dear Mister Heller,
First I gotta say I’m sorry my paper was so long. I guess I kinda got carried away. However, if you’ll recall our assignment was “Your Biography has to be a minimum of ten pages long. Include important events and people in your life thus far.” I wrote it down. You can see my notes if you want. See, you never said there was a maximum number of pages, so please don’t give me a bad grade because I wrote a lot.
The thing is, I tried to include a lot of junk that I thought was important, like you wanted us to do. I mean, to be honest, I could have included even more people like Gamma and Mrs. Bosco and Father Lucas and bunch of other people. And I could have said a lot more about Harmony Dubois but I knew my paper was pretty long already.
See, Mister Heller, I really need a passing grade in English to graduate. And I really want to graduate. I think you really want me to graduate, too. I mean, you don’t want me to repeat English again next year do you? Just think how many more chapters I’d have to add to Solomon Quick for next year.
By the way, before I forget, I almost crapped my pants when you said in class the other day that you might have us read aloud portions of our autobiographies. I mean, can you imagine what some of the other kids in class would have done if they heard me reading junk I’d written about them? Maybe not Thor Magnus. He might not get it.
But if Melanie Hero knew how I felt about her I think I’d have to kill myself or something worse. I guess I’d run away or something. I don’t know where I’d go to, though. Someplace warm more than likely.
And if I don’t graduate Mister Billy Lee James would be upset that he has to deal with me again. I know I’d rather not deal with him another year. And believe me, you don’t want Mister Billy Lee James mad at you for failing me, Mister Heller.
Oh yeah, and the reason some portions of my paper, like near the end, have words crossed out is because the correcting ribbon in our typewriter was going bad. So when I made a mistake it was hard to correct it so I just crossed out the misspelled words. Please don’t hold that against me. Arnold said, “Damn, Solomon, are you writing a book?” He didn’t want to go out and buy another ribbon. Like that would have killed him or something. Even if it meant me not graduating. I guess he wanted to save money for other junk. That’s why I’m hand writing this note.
I tried to use all that stuff you told us to use while writing the paper. You know, like similes and metaphors and junk like that. Well, not junk I guess. You said we could use our imagination and I tried to use that. Don’t dock me a grade because I have a goofy imagination, Mister Heller. Blame Arnold and Marion. They created me.
Now I could go on and on about how you’re the best teacher at Moon Lake High but you’d think I’m kissing your ass or something. But to be honest, Mister Heller, I’m doing better in English than I am in any other of my classes. That’s why I need a really good grade in English to bring up my Grade Point Average. If you don’t believe me just look at my grades in the other classes. I mean, Christ, I’m barely getting a “D” in History. You never know, maybe some day I’ll write a book or something thanks to you.
Arnold and Marion would be pretty disappointed if I didn’t graduate. They might send me to Summer Camp again or something stupid like that.
I guess I better stop begging now. My pen is running out of ink anyway and I suppose the world would end if I asked Arnold to buy me a new one. Okay, so please give me a passing grade on my autobiography, Mister Heller.
A cool student that really likes you,