Free Peggy Gifford_Moxy Maxwell 02 by Does Not Love Writing Thank-You Notes Page A

was to be seen around “the scene,” which was why this trip to Hollywood was so important.
    The way Moxy figured it, all that stood between her and a three-movie deal was twelve thank-you notes.

chapter 4
    In Which Mrs. Maxwell Begins a Sentence with “If you don’t stop dreaming and start writing your thank-you notes right now…”
    â€œIf you don’t stop dreaming and start writing your thank-you notes right now, there are going to be consequences,” said Mrs. Maxwell.

chapter 5
    A Brief Word About the Word “Consequences”
    August 23 had been the third-worst day of Moxy’s life (for details see
Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love
Stuart Little, pages 1–92). Ever since then, Moxy had paid very close attention when her mother used the word “consequences.”
    In case you don’t know, consequences are what happen when you don’t do
exactly, precisely,
and
specifically
what your mother tells you to do. In Moxy’s limited experience, consequences had never been a good thing. In fact, “consequences” was the only twelve-letter word that made Moxy feel like she might collapse.
    â€œSince you want to know,” said Moxy, “the real problem with my new thank-you notes—and thank you very much for them, by the way—is that they already say ‘Thank You’ in big gold letters across the front, and what is the point of writing ‘thank you’ inside when ‘thank you’ is already written outside?
    â€œIt doesn’t leave much to write about,” she added.

chapter 6
    In Which Mark Says Something
    â€œJust write the notes, Moxy,” said Mark. He was looking through his camera’s viewfinder at the maple tree that he and Ajax, his stepfather, had wrapped in little white twinkling lights on the first day of Christmas vacation.

chapter 7
    In Which Moxy Has a Really Good Idea (Really)
    â€œMom, I just had a really good idea,” said Moxy, ignoring (and not for the first time) her brother. “What I’m going to do is write my thank-you notes while I’m in Hollywood.”
    She could just picture herself sitting by the pool in her baby blue petal-patterned swimsuit with her red heart-shaped sunglasses, writing thank-you notes. “That way I can wish everyone a happy New Year and get a tan at the same time.”
    Moxy also liked the fact that she would be able to start every note with “Salutations from Hollywood.” “Salutations” had the advantage of being an eleven-letter word, which meant it would take up more space than plain old four-lettered “Dear.”
    Besides, everyone would know she was visiting her father. She didn’t care whether everyone knew she was visiting her father. Except that she sort of did. Practically everyone in the Northern Hemisphere knew she hadn’t seen him in almost three years.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” asked Mrs. Maxwell.
    â€œPacking my thank-you-note stuff,” said Moxy.

chapter 8
    In Which Pansy Begins to Cry
    Pansy, who was Moxy’s little sister, and only five, was lying under Moxy’s bed practicing to be a turtle—which was what she wanted to be when she grew up. (Mark wanted to be a photographer—which he already was—and Moxy was still considering which of 218 Possible Career Paths she would follow.)
    Mrs. Maxwell lifted the bedspread and peered at her youngest child.
    â€œWhy are you crying, darling?”
    â€œI want to go to Hollywood with Moxy and Mark.”
    Mrs. Maxwell lay down on the floor, pressed her left cheek against the exact spot on the carpet where Moxy had accidentally spilled a jar of the perfume she had invented on the second day of Christmas vacation, and looked into Pansy’s eyes.
    â€œWhat’s that smell?”
said Mrs. Maxwell.
    â€œDo you like it?” exclaimed Moxy. “It’s a product I’ve been developing for my new Moxy Maxwell Socks and Scents