When twelve-year-old Carlos makes a wish to be a man, a masked swordsman who calls himself The Fox appears from the nineteenth century to help.
In I AM THE FOX, a completed 40,000-word middle grade, reality-based fantasy, almost teenage Carlos is the man of the house for his mother and eight-year-old brother. After Carlos sees a young boy almost killed on the street, then he knows he must take action so his little brother is not lost. He can’t sleep that night and watches The Adventures of the Fox on TV. He makes a wish to be like this man, able to help others in need. When he wakes up the next morning, The Fox appears in his bedroom and agrees to help him become a man.
My writing-related experience includes: living and working in New York, including at Metropolitan Hospital, where one of the characters is taken after being hit by a truck; publication of a short story in the University of South Florida’s writing journal, PALM PRINTS; fiction awards from the National Writers Association and the Florida State Writing Competition.
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I AM THE FOX
Word on the street: My eight-year-old brother is joining a gang.
I took to the New York streets to stop him, zigzagging around shoppers and food vendor carts in Spanish Harlem. The aroma of toasted tortillas and roast pork filled my nose. My mother bought me a pork-filled quesadilla once when she had extra money. How good it tasted.
No time to think of food now no matter how empty my stomach. The wind howled in my ears and nipped at the back of my neck. I zipped up my Jets jacket and pulled up the collar. I had a hunch where Manuel might be and headed in that direction.
My feet stiffened on the cold cement, but I raced across the cracked sidewalk. I’d accepted a mission and would not stop. Three years ago my dad abandoned us and I took over at age eleven as the man for the family. That made Manuel mine to find.
Soul, salsa, reggae, and rap music tumbled from windows above and blasted from cars alongside me. The “you’ll-grow-into-these jeans-and-jacket” my mother bought me made me feel small and skinny. Small or not, I could run fast enough to catch Manuel and teach him a lesson, even if I still hadn’t figured out how to handle the bullies at school or throw a fast ball.
My heart thundered and my lungs ached. I dashed around the two-for-one evening
gowns and overcoats that hung on racks, the bins of herbs, pots for potions, and other