conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about em>The, Darkest, Corner with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Historical Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Darkest Corner of the World'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first three paragraphs for this book.. End with the sentence ' Grandpa added a bottle of milk.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Darkest Corner of the World
  Madli managed a nod. The only thing she wanted was to see Toomas. Grandpa assumed she was still a little girl, interested in concocting medicine from ants, vodka, and earthworms.
  Papa used to find the biggest, fattest earthworms for Grandpa. The image of Papa as a little boy pulled tears from deep within her. She shook off the vision and returned to the kitchen. "How long are we going to be gone?" Madli handed the jar to Nana.
  Nana stuffed four loaves of bread, potatoes, cheese, and a hunk of dried fish into the linen bag. Grandpa added a bottle of milk.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Nana's red-rimmed eyes were filled with anguish. "No. Go back to Kalju and Peeter." She scrubbed the corner of the cabinet. "I put aside lots of food for you. It's in the bag in the pantry."
  Back at the threshing barn, the boys were outside picking berries. Madli stashed the manuscript inside the the massive oven; if the barn burned the oven would remain intact. "Don't worry, I won't forget this time," she said, feeling slightly foolish talking to a pile of paper.
  EARLY SUNDAY MORNING MADLI zigzagged through the forest, swatting furiously at the mosquitoes. She leapt over a fallen log and sprinted to her grandparents' farmhouse, already tasting the fresh bread and milk. She hadn't seen her grandparents since Valter left, and had to find out what had happened at the harbour on Friday. She burst into the kitchen.
  Nana and Grandpa sat across from each other, both staring into their half-eaten porridge bowls. "I dreamt of the Midnight Mother spinning." Nana twisted her spoon in her porridge.
  For generations, Estonians had believed that string left on a spinning wheel overnight would be spun by the ööema, the Midnight Mother: a restless ghost whose spinning would be heard throughout the house, but who could not be seen at her work. The sound of the wheel being spun by the Midnight Mother was an ill omen, signifying that someone was going to die.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Nana's red-rimmed eyes were filled with anguish. "No. Go back to Kalju and Peeter." She scrubbed the corner of the cabinet. "I put aside lots of food for you. It's in the bag in the pantry."
  Back at the threshing barn, the boys were outside picking berries. Madli stashed the manuscript inside the the massive oven; if the barn burned the oven would remain intact. "Don't worry, I won't forget this time," she said, feeling slightly foolish talking to a pile of paper.
  EARLY SUNDAY MORNING MADLI zigzagged through the forest, swatting furiously at the mosquitoes. She leapt over a fallen log and sprinted to her grandparents' farmhouse, already tasting the fresh bread and milk. She hadn't seen her grandparents since Valter left, and had to find out what had happened at the harbour on Friday. She burst into the kitchen.
  Nana and Grandpa sat across from each other, both staring into their half-eaten porridge bowls. "I dreamt of the Midnight Mother spinning." Nana twisted her spoon in her porridge.
  For generations, Estonians had believed that string left on a spinning wheel overnight would be spun by the ööema, the Midnight Mother: a restless ghost whose spinning would be heard throughout the house, but who could not be seen at her work.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last three paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He opened his fist. A wrapped candy lay in the middle of his palm. "Hitler sent us candy. At school they talked about how wonderful the Nazis are."
  Oodles of gratitude go to my critique partners, Sherry Isaac and Sharon Bernas. They have lived through four years of writing, polishing, and revising. Without their encouragement and gentle, perceptive criticism, I would never have gotten this far (especially with the romantic scenes!). Early drafts were read by members of Kidcrit, an online critique group organized and led by Marsha Skrypuch.
  Many thanks to my husband, Rod, and children, Katrina, Sonja, and Kenni, for their continuous support and inspiration, and allowing me the time to sit in my office every day and write.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Many thanks to my husband, Rod, and children, Katrina, Sonja, and Kenni, for their continuous support and inspiration, and allowing me the time to sit in my office every day and write.. Early drafts were read by members of Kidcrit, an online critique group organized and led by Marsha Skrypuch. Without their encouragement and gentle, perceptive criticism, I would never have gotten this far (especially with the romantic scenes!). They have lived through four years of writing, polishing, and revising."
  Oodles of gratitude go to my critique partners, Sherry Isaac and Sharon Bernas. At school they talked about how wonderful the Nazis are. "Hitler sent us candy. A wrapped candy lay in the middle of his palm.He opened his fist