An excerpt from one of the books:

     I didn't know Pamela Martin. She had just moved to Haywood and was in the fifth grade. But she quickly became one of the most popular girls in the school. Her parents had just bought the Pappy's Pizza restaurant downtown. Although there were three pizza places in town, most kids thought Pappy's was the best.
          And if that wasn't enough to make her friends, a few days after she arrived in school, she made an offer that certainly did. Her parents had agreed to donate pizza to the entire school. We'd had Pizza Days before, but in the past we'd always had to buy our pizza slices. Plus the pizza was always made by the seventh grade class for a field trip to the zoo or some such place. The pizzas generally tasted like cardboard with melted mozzarella cheese on top. But this time we were getting the real thing – Pappy's pizza!
          Posters had been put up around the school, and everybody was pretty excited. Besides the pizza, Mr. Dingle had agreed to let us have music. The grade seven kids were going to decorate the gym and we were going to have a pizza party. We were all looking forward to Pizza Day.
All of us except Miss Flint. We hadn't thought that even she could ruin Pizza Day. But we were wrong.
           Pizza Day was Friday, and on Monday we began to get suspicious that something was up. Miss Flint had ripped down all the Pizza Day posters in our room. She seemed even more vicious than usual. She made us write the entire times table –all the way up to twelve– five times. When Bobby Garcia got caught duct taping Marileta Kenney's long pony tail to her chair, Miss Flint made him sit in a corner facing the brown wall for two hours. And we knew we were in trouble when the announcement came over the speakers that pizzas would be served Friday at 12:30 in the gym.
          Miss Flint angrily pushed her oak swivel chair over to the speaker and stood up on the chair. We could see her grey wool stockings underneath her long black dress and the high black shoes she wore every day as she stretched toward the speaker.
Just as Mr. Dingle was naming the different kinds of pizza we'd have to choose from, she turned the little black dial on the speaker face until we couldn't hear Mr. Dingle's thin voice anymore.
On Tuesday, Miss Flint made us unpack our lunches and lay everything on our desks. She marched around with the green metal wastebasket and inspected each lunch.
          "Apple, very good, Mr. Garcia. But what's this? A vanilla cupcake? Loaded with sugar. And fat." She held the offending cupcake in two fingers as if it were a dead rat and dropped in into her wastebasket.
          "Miss Matthew, I'm surprised. A chocolate bar. That will never do." Plop. Into the basket.
          And so it went until every lunch had been inspected. And every treat in the room filled the green basket. When she was done, Miss Flint stood in front of the room holding the heavy wastebasket. "Believe me, children, this is for your own good," she shrilled.

     Don Sawyer survived a childhood in Michigan that included a teacher very much like Miss Flint. It has taken him a long time to get over that grade 4 year, and now he's getting even. He is happy to report that revenge is sweet and funny!

     He sincerely hopes that no Miss Flints cross your path and knows that your current teacher is very, very nice. Now Don lives happily with his wife, Jan, in Salmon Arm, BC. His two daughters, Farish and Melissa, are grown up and living exciting lives of their own.

     Don has taught in rural Newfoundland and BC's Fraser Canyon, as well as on the Spallumcheen First Nation reserve. He also taught adults at Okanagan College. For the last 15 years Don has been teaching and managing development projects in West Africa. He has written many articles, a non-fiction book about teaching in Newfoundland, young adult fiction and several children's books.

http://www.northerned.com/

Price:
Miss Flint Meets the Great Kweskin ISBN 978-1894601-40-5  $12.95
Meanest Teacher in the World ISBN 978-1894601-39-9 $12.95