Katie Friedman Gives Up Texting! by Tommy Greenwald Read Free Book Online

Sending texts and photos to your friends? That’s another reason why that stuff is so dangerous—it’s killing creativity! If I had Facebook and Twitter and texting and all that stuff to distract me, I don’t know if I ever would have written even one song.”
    Nigel knocked and brought in a big tray of snacks and drinks.
    â€œI would love to give up all that stuff,” I heard myself say. “It would make life so much easier.”
    Jane directed her blazing eyes right at me. “So why don’t you?”
    I wasn’t sure I understood what she meant. “Why don’t I what?”
    â€œGive up your phone,” Jane said. She got up and started pacing around the room. She looked like she was getting more and more excited about the possibility. “Just try it! See how it feels!”
    Yikes. Was she serious?
    â€œUm, I don’t know,” I mumbled. “That’s kind of impossible. I need my phone just to deal with everyday life, with everything going on.”
    â€œYou don’t! Trust me, you don’t.”
    I looked up at her. “I don’t?”
    â€œI don’t text,” Jane said. “I don’t IM. I don’t do Facebook or Twitter. Now it’s true, I do have an online profile, which Kit keeps up for me, but it’s just business. But personally, I refuse to be defined by that stuff, because it’s no way to live. It makes us mean, and it wastes our time, and it prevents us from being real people.” She pointed at the screen. “It stops us from doing the writing that really matters.”
    I tried to process everything Jane was saying. No texting? No Facebook?
    Holy moly.
    â€œYou can do this,” she continued, really getting into the idea. “Give up your phone, texting, all that stuff. It would be so awesome. Your friends could to it, too.” Suddenly she clapped her hands together. “How about this? I’ll make a deal with you!”
    â€œWhat kind of deal?”
    â€œYou and ten of your friends give up your phones for one week.”
    I sighed and laughed at the same time. “That will never happen.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œYou haven’t met my friends.”
    Jane picked up a different guitar and started tuning it. “Okay, I’ll sweeten the pot,” she said. “If you give up your phone for a week, and get ten friends to give up theirs, too, I will get all of you backstage passes to a show. And I’ll bring you guys up on stage.”
    Then she pointed up at my lyrics.
    â€œAnd we’ll play your song,” Jane said.
    My eyes bugged out of my head. Play my song?!
    â€œIn front of everybody?” I asked.
    Jane’s eyes twinkled. “In front of everybody. If you finish it, that is.”
    I felt my jaw drop open. For about the fiftieth time in the last couple of days, I was too shocked to speak.
    â€œBut here’s the thing,” Jane added. “You can’t tell your friends that you came here today. They can’t know about our deal, or anything about my playing your song or inviting them on stage. I don’t want them eating the Cracker Jacks just because there’s a prize in the box.”
    I didn’t know what that meant, but I was too hyped up to care. Instead I asked, “So how am I going to get them to give up their phones?”
    â€œThat’s for you to figure out,” Jane said.
    I looked over at my mom. She was talking to Nigel and had missed this whole part of the conversation, which was fine by me.
    â€œHow are you going to know that we really did it?” I asked Jane. “I could just tell you we did, even if we don’t.”
    â€œI trust you,” Jane said.
    â€œWhy would you trust me?”
    Jane laughed. “I have keen powers of observation. I guess that’s what makes me a decent songwriter.”
    And that was it. I was all out of questions.
    Jane stuck out her hand. “What do you