conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Rothbaum, There's, Soon with the genre: Children's Books, Growing Up & Facts of Life?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Beyond the Doors'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Beyond the Doors
  He was currently late for a very important meeting with three very important people (and one not-so-important person) who had traveled all the way from Argentina to see him. He had been looking forward to this meeting for months and had practiced what he was going to say in front of his closet mirror three times. The key to this meeting was the poster boards he'd spent the past four weekends creating. They were very impressive poster boards, and they made a very convincing case. Armed with these poster boards, Edward was confident that the meeting with the three very important people (and one not-so-important person) would be an unqualified success.
  Unfortunately, upon the arrival of the Argentineans, Edward had discovered that he had left the poster boards at home.
  He had apologized backward and forward to the three very important people who had traveled all the way from Argentina for this meeting. He had even apologized to the not-so-important person. Then he'd set up all four of them on laptops to play Minecraft, ordered everybody pizza, and rushed home to collect his work.
  Edward reached his front porch and fumbled in his pocket for the keys, all the while shaking his head and muttering angrily about his forgetfulness. "Dingbat! Dolt! Doofus!" Edward berated himself alliteratively as he turned the key to unlock the door. "If this meeting doesn't go well..."
  He stepped inside and slammed the door closed with even more force than he'd slammed the car door a moment earlier—mainly because it was a bigger door and so could withstand a bigger slam. The lowly spark of guilt in his gut attempted to raise its head and reprimand him for all of this sudden violence toward members of the door family, but the rest of his brain growled at the guilt, causing it to slink away in fear again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He gasped and froze in midsentence at the sound of a screen door sliding open above them. "Waggling wombats! Hide!" he hissed, true fear sweeping over his features. He pulled Zack and Sydney down behind a pile of old beach furniture stacked up against the house.
  She tried to imagine what sort of horrific monster stalked these beachside memories. A hideous sand beast? A giant crab? A multitentacled sea monster?
  She started momentarily as Zack placed what he probably thought was a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She let him keep it there. He liked to feel he was protecting her, and, to be honest, it was slightly comforting.
  The three waited in silence, Sydney straining her ears for signs of the incoming menace. From the look on her grandfather's face, it was something truly evil.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There were tears in her eyes, which made Edward tear up as well. He still couldn't believe it. His wife. Right here. Next to him. This was real. She was real.
  He had no idea what his youngest daughter had just said, but it sounded sincere. Particularly the bit about being a family again. That would be very nice. But could he forgive his wife for abandoning them like she did?
  He slowly swiveled his head to look at his children again. The four of them looked so hopeful, almost bursting with expectation. They obviously wanted her back.
  He gave the briefest of nods before wincing in pain. Everyone cheered. He was pretty sure they were cheering his nod, not his pain.
  Thank you to my editor, Emily Easton, for pushing me over the finish line, and to my agent, Eric Myers, for making it possible. Thank you also to my early readers Jerry, Judy, Bonnie, Jackie, Heather, and Antonia for poring over the initial draft as I doled it out in chunks—your comments were invaluable. Thank you to the Warner Library in Tarrytown, New York, for giving me the perfect place to write and edit. I know there are other people I need to thank, but for some strange reason I can't remember....
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: . He still couldn't believe it. His wife. Right here. Next to him. This was real. She was real.
  He had no idea what his youngest daughter had just said, but it sounded sincere. Particularly the bit about being a family again. That would be very nice. But could he forgive his wife for abandoning them like she did?
  He slowly swiveled his head to look at his children again. The four of them looked so hopeful, almost bursting with expectation. They obviously wanted her back.
  He gave the briefest of nods before wincing in pain. Everyone cheered. He was pretty sure they were cheering his nod, not his pain.
  Thank you to my editor, Emily Easton, for pushing me over the finish line, and to my agent, Eric Myers, for making it possible. Thank you also to my early readers Jerry, Judy, Bonnie, Jackie, Heather, and Antonia for poring over the initial draft as I doled it out in chunks—your comments were invaluable. Thank you to the Warner Library in Tarrytown, New York, for giving me the perfect place to write and edit. I know there are other people I need to thank, but for some strange reason I can't remember...There were tears in her eyes, which made Edward tear up as well.