Chapter 1.

"Claudia, what on earth are you doing?" asked my older sister Janine, when she saw me sprawled out on the living room floor, near the fireplace.

"Reading the paper," I said. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Janine is a genius (for real!), but sometimes she doesn't seem very bright at all.

"Not just the paper," said Janine. "You're reading The New York Times. The Sunday New York Times."

"I know that," I said, with dignity.

"But you never read the paper," said Janine. "Except perhaps to check your horoscope or something."

Janine was right, I had to admit it. I don't usually read our local newspaper, the Stoneybrook News, much less the Sunday New York Times. Normally, the tiny print and serious-looking columns of that huge, thick newspaper put me off. I'm not big on current events. Or history. Or politics.

But there was something in the Times that Sunday that I was really interested in reading about. So I was wading through page after page of dense black type, trying to find a certain article.

If you knew me the way my friends know me, you would be able to guess what that article was about. "Art," you'd say, without thinking twice.

And you'd be right. I may not be interested in geography or math or any of those other boring (to me) subjects, but I am very, very interested in art. I love to look at it, I love to read about it. And most of all, I like to make it. I like to draw and paint and sculpt. I like to make jewelry. I like to work with papier-mâché. I'm never happier than when I'm creating something that's totally me.

"Totally me" means totally Claudia Kishi. And since I can't show you a piece of my artwork, I guess I'll just have to tell you about myself instead. I'm thirteen years old and I am in the eighth grade atStoneybrookMiddle School. That's inStoneybrook,Connecticut, where I've lived all my life. It's a small quiet town with lots of nice old houses. As for my looks, I have long, straight black hair and dark almond-shaped eyes. In case you haven't