Booktalking Colorado - Full Booktalk Record

Booktalking Colorado Full Record:

	Title:	The Hunting of the Last Dragon
	Author:	Jordan, Sherryl
	Date Published:	2002
	Genre:	Fantasy
	Grade Level:	6 - 8
	Booktalker:	Sam Marsh
	Awards:	Former Blue Spruce Award Nominee

Booktalk:
"You should have given it to me," Addy said. "Given you what?' "Your old bow." I threatened to give it to her with an arrow...stuck where she didn't want it. "You can't," she said. I saw you throw it in the duck pond. Why?" "It was useless and never would shoot straight." "I doubt that was the bow's fault, Jude," said my mother. "You should have sold it." I hadn't thought of that! But, I had saved enough money to buy a new bow and new arrows at Rokeby. The next day I went to town. I purchased my bow and arrows as planned, and then discovered that there was a fair at the village green. I wandered around until I saw the swordsman's pavilion, and paid a coin to see the performance. He held the sword blade upright, then swung it down, around and in a circle, faster and faster. Then it flew up high and he caught it as it came down. He asked for a volunteer, someone brave and steadfast and unafraid to meet death. No one moved, except to look at their feet or to whisper to their wives. Then, his gaze lighted on me and I became his 'brave' man. He had me lift the sword, which, with its weight, was no small feat. Then he took me to the center of the stage, had me tuck my elbows against my belt, and told me to stand still...to not move a muscle. I froze and heard the whirring of the blade, slow then fast. I felt a lock of my hair as it fell to the floor, then another, and another. Finally, I felt the sword begin to slow down and then stop. My head was almost shaven, the hair pooled around my feet, but I was unharmed. The swordsman praised my bravery to the crowd and had them applaud me. I was proud, but not too proud, more scared to death to move, I'd been. I spent the rest of the day at the fair and it was late in the afternoon when I headed home. I shot at a hare to practice with the new bow, but the wind was stronger than I imagined and I hit a hill. It was sunset by the time I began the final climb to home. My head down to watch for ruts, I smelled the smoke before I saw it. Disbelief and fear shot through me. I ran up the hill in terror to find Doran was no more. Burned bare just as was Thornhill. Nothing but ash and glowing embers, and smoke, and the stink... Fire from the skies! After 70 years, a dragon had returned.