In 1972, when I was eight, I wrote a series of stories (or four books 186 pages worth, though typed up and without the original drawings they come to a mere 25 pages total) collectively titled Oscar of Oscarville, about an eight-year-old boy who flew around on the back of an enormous hummingbird while whacking off the heads of monsters with his enchanted sword, in a magical land whose chief characteristic seemed to be the elicitation of various sorts of gigantism in everything from bats and butterflies to houses and hair tonic. (I then had no idea that there were actual places named Oscarville in Alaska and Georgia, for example.) This was my magnum opus up to that point.
I hadnt seen the Oscarville stories since 1981 and had feared they were lost, until I rediscovered them going through old boxes last week. As a break from more pressing but less enjoyable work, Ive transcribed Oscars adventures and self-indulgently put them online. Lo, he is risen!
Did you draw the featured picture? If so, that is really good!
Thanks for this, fantastic literature is my favourite type of reading, after your articles, of course!
the story is really good! that was charming. you should scan the original artwork. and then think about becoming a children’s book author in your spare time.
What spare time? 🙂