By the time I was nine, I had mastered the bicycle, could load a cap pistol, and had a working knowledge of the opposite sex, thanks to information supplied by Joe, my uncle who was three years older than I.

Putting organized thoughts down on paper was a long way off, as was communicating with those alien beings most of us referred to as girls. If I wanted to get a girl's attention, I would race by her on the playground and punch her in the shoulder; a sure sign of affection. I didn't know what to do if she responded in a favorable way.

Last week, the Today

Sh owfeatured best selling author Alec Greven. His book began as a creative writing project in school and has blossomed into a publishing deal with Harp- Her o Cwo tl oli nTsa. l Tkh toe Gboirolsk is titled . The author is nine. I can't put into words how envious I am.

During my teen years, I was part of a rock and roll band. We played frat parties, Elks club dances, and swimming pool openings. Each of us assumed one day the record folks would discover us, and we would all be famous.

Then the Monkees came along. A band formed to star in a TV show with no time spent practicing or paying dues suddenly was the hottest thing in American music. I hate them to this day. It was so unfair. We and so many like us, worked hard and deserved fame. Around that time, I first learned life isn't fair.

Alec Greven's book isn't the first one to get a publishing deal because of a gimmick. It isn't even the first one since I've been trying to become a famous writer. But it is the latest, and I resent his success. Regardless of the abilities he might possess, his command of the written word and the ability to draw from his vast collection of life's experiences is limited at best.

He can't even claim to have spent a lot of time researching his subject or putting his thoughts together. This started as a pamphlet for school. And now he's getting interviewed by Meredith Vierra. The unfairness is overwhelming. And while it is probably not me who is getting pushed aside so this preteen can get rich and famous, there is someone much more deserving out there. Someone who has written the next great American novel and won't get it published because someone thinks it's cute to have a nine- year- old giving advice on how to talk to girls.

Then again, maybe it is a great idea. Who better than some novice to be an expert on this subject. For all the advice given in all the how to books in the past, the impasse between men and women is as wide as ever.

So it makes sense for someone who has never stood with his mouth open and ears ringing wondering what just happened to try to make sense of how to talk to that most foreign of creatures. At nine, he knows more about girls than he ever will in the future. It just gets more confusing.