When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going to write and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered. The rest nearly fell out of their chairs laughing. "Don't be silly, only geniuses can become writers," the English teacher said, "And you are getting a D this semester." I was so humiliated  that I burst into tears. That night I wrote a short sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it to the Capri's Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment, they published it and sent me two dollars. I was a published and paid writer. I showed it to my teacher and fellow students. They laughed. "Just plain dumb luck," the teacher said. I tasted success. I'd sold the first thing I'd ever written. That was more than any of them had done and if it was just dumb luck, that was fine with me. During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes and recipes. By the time I graduated from high school, with a C minus average, I had scrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to my teachers, friends or my family again. They were dream killers and if people must choose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose their dreams. I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only four. While the children slept, I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It took nine months, just like a baby. A month later Crying Wind, the title of my book, became a best seller, was translated into fifteen languages and Braille and sold worldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours. My first book also became required reading in native American schools in Canada. People ask what college I attended, what degrees I had and what qualifications I have to be a writer. The answer is: "None." I just write. I'm not a genius. I'm not gifted and I don't write right. To all those who dream of writing, I'm shouting at you: "Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Don't listen to them." I don't write right but I've... What prevented him telling others about his writing? A) The characters in his story. B) His teacher. C) His early experience. D) His parents.
C


Christine and Elena grew up in the same suburb of Sydney and first met at kindergarten. They took to each other immediately and became inseparable friends throughout their school lives. Elena's parents had moved from Greece to Australia, and her grandparents still lived on the small Greek island of Santorini, When she was 16, Elena visited her grandparents for the first time. On returning to Australia, she talked endlessly about her grandmother's next-door neighbor, Mara. When Christine expressed puzzlement at Elena's obsession  with people next door, Elena admitted that Maria had a handsome son called Nicos. She showed Christine a photo of him, standing next to his prize possession, a motorbike. Elena and Nicos exchanged emails for a while, but suddenly Nicos stopped writing. While not heartbroken, Elena was nevertheless hurt. A year later, when Christine announced that she was going to visit Greece, Elena begged her to visit Santorini and say hello to Maria and Nicos. Christine agreed to do so.                When she flew into Athens on an unseasonably cold day in September, she quickly realized that she hadn't brought enough warm clothes. Walking through the streets of the Greek capital, she happened to see a nice coat in a shop window and went in to ask about the price. The coat was too expensive, but as Christine was about to leave the shop, the woman asked her where she was from. When Christine answered Australia, the woman agreed to reduce the price because she knew a nice girl from Australia called Elena. Christine then noticed a photo of a young man standing next to a motorbike. Her eyes opened wide with astonishment. It was Nicos! Indeed the young man was Nicos, and the woman in the shop was Maria. She had come to Athens from Santorini to look after the shop for a friend.               Sadly, the story has a tragic ending. Nicos had been killed in a motorcycle accident.                "I wanted to tell Elena," said Maria. "But I didn't know how. Now that I have met you, I know that it's time to tell her." Elena went to Greece in order to visit_. A) her grandparents B) Christine C) Nicos. D) her parent
A


Q: My House My mother moved a lot when she was growing up on account of Grandpa being in the army. She hated having to adjust to new schools and make new friends. That's why I thought she was joking when she put forward the idea of moving. But she was completely serious. "For just the two of us," my mother said, "an apartment in the city will suit our needs much better." Personally, I think she's lost her mind. I guess I can understand why she would want to move, but what about me and what this house means to me? I suppose if you looked at my house, you might think it was just another country house. But to me it is anything but standard. I moved into this house with my parents ten years ago. I can still remember that first day like it was yesterday. The first thing I noticed was the big front yard. To me it seemed like an ocean of grass--I couldn't wait to dive in. The backyard was full of gnarled (, ) and scary trees that talk on windy nights. But I grew to like them and the shadows they cast in my room. My father and I even built a small tree house, where I often go to remember all the wonderful times we had before Father's death. This house is special--maybe only to me--but special nevertheless. It's the little seemingly insignificant things that make this house so special to me: the ice-cold tile floors that make me tremble on midnight snack runs; the smell of my father's pipe that still exists; the towering bookcases of my mother; the view outside my bedroom window. This house holds too many memories, memories which would be lost if we gave it up. Why did the author's mother decide to move? A) Because she hated the countryside. B) Because Grandpa was on constant move. C) Because Dad's death made her lose her mind. D) Because she thought a city flat more fit for them.
A: D


(Q).
Sony and Toyota are struggling. But one brand name is booming   in Japan during the economic slowdown--Mickey Mouse. According to the company that runs Tokyo Disneyland, Japan's busiest theme park will be more packed than ever over Christmas and New Year's Day. Despite the bad economy, it's already been a record year for an escape which is cheaper than the average night out in pricey Tokyo. "Here, economic depression   seems a world away," visitor Namie Katsunuma said. "This is the only place where I can totally forget the economic worries and hardships of my life." The single mother's salary at an auto factory was cut in November but, with her $500 yearly pass in hand, she makes the 95-km journey from her home to Tokyo Disneyland every couple of months. The park's operator, Oriental Land Co, estimates   a record 26.5 million people will visit Tokyo Disneyland and its nearby sister park, Disneysea, during the financial year ending in March. The company is forecasting sales of a record $4.2 billion, up almost 10 percent. "In a way, the economy works well for Tokyo Disneyland," said Hiroshi Watanabe, an economist at the Tokyo-based Daiwa Research Institute. "Because of the economic depression, people have stopped buying cars and houses or going to Hawaii, and Tokyo Disneyland offers an affordable and pleasant _ ." Around the world, Disney's theme parks have been a bright spot for the brand this year as people seem to look for an escape from bad times. According to the passage, what happens to Tokyo Disneyland this year? A) Fewer people visit it. B) Less money is made. C) It attracts more visitors. D) Its sales have reached $4.2 billion.
(A).

C