Chapter Books and Easy readers
Excerpt from The Diary of Jarrod Crisp,
a humorous story with an environmental twist.
Service Station in Mareeba
Finally! We’re on our way to Cape York.

I’m looking for bunyips and Uncle Dave’s looking for Golden-shouldered Parrots. They're
endangered. He’s writing an article about them for Mum’s magazine.

Uncle Dave always takes me on his research trips. I’m a good camper and I keep a journal.
Uncle Dave says that if I’m writing everything down, he doesn't have to remember as much.
It saves him brain space.

I have to write fast while Uncle Dave is getting fuel. I wish I could write while we’re driving,
but the Land Rover’s too bumpy. My head’s hit the roof three times, and we’re not even off
the bitumen yet.

When I can’t write, I practice my whistling. I might be getting better but it’s hard to tell. I
sound like ‘PHHHHHT’ and I have to keep wiping off the windscreen so I can see.

We left home about an hour ago. Mum was on her way to the magazine, but she had time to
check that we had about seven changes of clothes, food for a month, three extra torches and
twelve packets of batteries. We’re only going for four days.

She said, ‘Look after each other,’ like she always does, but this time she put both hands on
my shoulders and said, “Do not go swimming.” Her nose was cold when it touched mine and
she said “Anywhere.” I could smell her morning coffee.

Yeah, Mum. Like I would. I might want to see a bunyip, but I do not want to be eaten by a
crocodile. Cape York Peninsula has heaps of crocodiles. The freshwater crocs are ok. Theyre
smaller and not as scary as the saltwater ones. Saltwater crocodiles can get huge, up to six
metres. They aren’t afraid of soft, squishy humans, especially if we happen to be in their
territory. Mum doesn’t have to worry. I will
not be swimming.
Excerpt from Long-Leg
A magical spell gone wrong.
One day on his way to school, Jackson passed two skinny legs hiding in a bush. He
peeked through the leaves.  “Who’s in there?” he said.

The bush jiggled. "It's me," Simon Pillbox whispered. "I'm hiding from Big Bruce."

“Is he twirling you again?” Jackson frowned.

Simon Pillbox nodded. “Whenever he sees me, he yells ‘Airplane ride!’ Then he grabs me
under the arms and swings me around. I hate those rides. They make me feel sick."

Jackson helped Simon out of the bush. “Have you told him to stop?” he said.

Simon shook his head. “No.”

“So tell him.” Jackson said.

“He’ll get mad," Simon said

“You need a gloption.” Jackson tapped his chin.