conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled The Postcard about Droon, Golden, Kite with the genre: Children's Books, Growing Up & Facts of Life.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author is the author of over 60 books for young readers, including the extremely popular Droon series, which has sold over 4.5 million books to date, and the Golden Kite winner <em>Firegirl</em>. He has worked in a bookstore and a library, and currently lives in Connecticut with his wife and two daughters.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Postcard
  I was quaking all over, barely able to breathe. Grandma's boyfriend had written this story. A guy named Nick Falcon met a girl named Marnie in my great-grandfather's hotel. The funeral guy had called Grandma "Marnie." I saw the posts under the Gandy Bridge. I saw the tall man and the short German. Was this a story based on things that really happened? Would Dad know?
  I wondered, of course, whether Emerson Beale could be Dad's father. He was Grandma's boyfriend, after all. But Dad said Beale went away long before he was born. I wanted to read the story again — every word — but before I could turn back to the beginning, I saw a small box outlined in black at the bottom of the last page.
  I felt as if I had been kicked in the chest. Whatever thoughts I had about who Dad's father might have been couldn't include Emerson Beale anymore. He died in the war almost twenty years before Dad was born.
  But even more amazing was what I found written in the margin of the last page. In thin blue ink, in neater penmanship than I have ever seen, were words in what I knew was my grandmother's handwriting:
  So that pretty much confirmed it. Grandma was Marnie. If Emerson Beale was Nick Falcon, he had been good to his word. He had written a story for her. Only it was a story with no ending.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He nodded. "I remember the date it hit the papers. June twenty-fourth, 1944. I remember because the paper was free that day. First time in three years. It rained all day."
  Hearing it was like dying. Each word was a dagger in my heart. She's in a chair. Marnie, my Marnie. I turned away. "It isn't so."
  He leaned forward and spoke softly, painfully. "Freakish thing. Flying accident. Fang and Marnie in his danged autogyro. The official story goes he had engine trouble and plunged into the Bay," he said. "He escaped minus an eye. Nick, it crashed hard. Lots of witnesses. She flew out, hit the water. Something about her spine. She was under the water a long time, too. That messed with her lungs... at the very least. Sorry, Nick. You gotta know the worst."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Finally, I stopped thinking and just watched Dia raking piles in the yard. She might have sensed I was watching, but she didn't say anything. I went over to her.