Meet Bridgett Bell Langson
Before she became a writer, Bridgett Bell Langson taught children in public schools in North Carolina in both special education resource and elementary classrooms. After several years of teaching, she applied and was selected to participate in the UNC Charlotte Writing Project for teachers. Along with continuing as a classroom teacher, she trained other teachers in methods of writing instruction for their students. After retiring from teaching, she pursued her dream of being a published author of children’s books by participating in a number of Under Construction classes.
In February 2018 her first book, Finding Home, My Arf-O-Biography, was published through Tale Wag Press. Most of this book is based on true stories of her rescue puppy.
Bridgett and her husband live in North Carolina with their sons and dogs.
You can contact Bridgett at her email address: firstname.lastname@example.org
You can see Bridgett’s Facebook page here: www.FACEBOOK.com/myarfobiography
And Instagram here: www.INSTAGRAM.com/my_arf_o_biography
A Sample of Bridgett’s Writing
An excerpt from
Finding Home: My Arf-O-Biography
Bridgett Bell Langson
Bad Boots’ Threat
It rains so long that we sleep all night in the hurts-my-nose shed. It gets colder and colder. I curl up close to Sis’s warm body. In the morning, I wiggle to a hole in the wall and peek my head out to get some good-smelling air. The wind smacks my nose and I pull my head back inside.
I remember that I need to think. But about what? Oh yeah, how to get Bad Boots to like me, so he’ll want to keep me and all of us pups. It’s not the best place to live, but it’s our home and we’re all together.
Sis, Sis! I arf until she wakes up. Help me think of some ways I can be nice to Bad Boots.
She blinks her eyes and yawns. Why? He’s mean. He was going to leave us at Kate and Leo’s. And Darf barked for you to stay away from him.
I know all that. But I need him to like me so all of us can stay here. I’ll be careful. Maybe he’s mean because he doesn’t live with a pack, like us, I arf.
Pups, muzzles shut, or go outside, barks Marf.
I creep out and look back at Sis through the big crack. I want her to come with me. But she puts down her head and closes her eyes. My paws crunch on the cold leaves that cover the dirt yard. The leaves have a good odor that tickles my nose. But I want to sniff out a chipmunk. Then I’ll pounce on it, and catch it like Darf and Marf do.
I trot and breathe in deep. No chipmunks. Instead, my nose smells a stink like in the shed. Looking up, I see I’ve come all the way to Bad Boots’ truck. It’s not near his house, so I’m okay.
I move my head back and forth. Oh, I sniff an animal scent. I poke around with my muzzle. Got it!
My teeth grab a fat chunk of leather. It smells like the collars Marf and Darf wear. The clinking, clanking things on it stink like the truck. I wish Sis was here to see this. I toss it in the air and pounce on it, pretending it’s a chipmunk. Again, and again.
When I get tired, I lie down and chew on the good-tasting leather. Yum.
I hear Bad Boots clomp out of his house and slam the door. Sounds like he’s mad. I grab the leather in my teeth and dart around a fat tree to hide.
He goes toward the truck and starts kicking the leaves. He looks on the ground. “My keys! Where are they?” he says.
I stay hidden. He’s scary, but chewing on the leather helps me feel calmer.
“I put that big leather tab on the keys so I could find them,” says Bad Boots.
Leather! What luck! I have just what Bad Boots is looking for. I rush out to him, the leather held tight in my teeth. The keys swing as I prance toward him.
But I don’t get to drop the keys and arf, I found your keys. I found your keys.
Because, before I can do that, Bad Boots yanks the leather from my teeth and smacks me hard with his hand. As I topple over, he yells at me.
“You troublemaker! You stole my keys. And you’ve chewed up the tab! I’m going to…”
What Bridgett says about WordPlay
“Because of Maureen Ryan Griffin of WordPlay, I am now an author! In first grade, sitting at a desk in my Catholic school uniform—navy jumper, white blouse, and matching navy bowtie—I remember thinking that when I grew up, I wanted to write books that children would love to read. Now, many, many decades later, I have achieved my dream of writing a children’s book.”
“In this first book, Finding Home, My Arf-O-Biography, I wrote: “I thank Maureen Ryan Griffin of WordPlay. Your belief that I could and should do this kept my fingers on the keyboard. I would not have started or finished Finding Home without you.”
I have taken several classes of Maureen’s over the years. Poetry. Publishing. Writing from Photos. However, the classes that were my north star to following my dream have been the semester long Under Construction classes. What a joy to attend these weekly sessions and get such invaluable instruction, support and mentoring by Maureen and from all the amazing writers in class. How lucky I am to be part of such a fabulous writing community.
Since my book was just published on February 1, I’m still new to the idea of thinking: I am an author; I wrote my first children’s book. I hope Finding Home does fulfill the other part of my dream. I hope that children will, indeed, love my book.”