Take some advice from a kid who knows.
If you swipe your birth certificate from City Hall and make a run for it,
security guards are definitely going to chase you.
I had no choice.
I was righting a whopper of a wrong done unto me by none other than…
my own parents.
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
I am gonna be who I wanna be
My autonomy
No, I won't cut my hair
And I'll wear whatever
I like it when I get to be myself
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do
To understand how I found myself in the clutches of the law,
it's best to start here, on a day that's pretty sacred to a writer and spy.
New notebook day.
So far in my life, I've filled a total of 12 notebooks.
College-ruled, so you know I'm not messing around.
I filled the last one in record time.
I like Mrs. Plumber.
But if I was one of her dogs, and had to wear an outfit like that,
I would force her to wear one too.
Finished.
Are you excited to crack that thing open, Harriet?
Absolutely.
I bet I'll fill this monkey up in three months.
No, two months. Maybe one.
Greetings, Mr. Horatio. How are you this fine Tuesday?
-Take your seat, Harriet. -Gladly.
Ole Golly taught me to never crack the spine of a book.
But a notebook? It's your brain, heart and guts on paper.
So if you wanna make it messy, messy it up.
Except for one part:
signing your name.
The coup de grâce moment of a new notebook.
One goof up, and it's messed up forever.
And this is the final journal Harriet M. Welsch filled
right before she wrote the world's greatest novel.
Wow.
-Fascinating. -I've read it.
You'll see that her name is written perfectly,
indicating, of course,
that she would go on to become the world's greatest writer.
A classmate of Harriet's, Marion Hawthorne,
did not fare as well.
After failing as a writer, she had to settle for being the president.
Who cares if she brought world peace and gave feelings to robots?
Look at how she wrote her name.
That's awful.
Hey, Harriet. I've always wondered, what's the "M" stand for?
Oh, it's just an "M." It doesn't stand for anything.
That's a little weird.
-You don't have a middle name? -Nope.
Who has a middle initial but no middle name?
Harriet M, "period" Welsch, that's who.
Wait, I thought you used to write it without a period.
I don't think so.
I think you did.
You don't even remember how to write your own name?
It's always been "M, period." End of sentence, end of story. Period.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the end of the story.
It was just the beginning.
"M, period."
Just "M."
"M, period."
How could I be a future famous writer when I didn't even know who I really was?
An "M, no period," or an "M, period"?
In a startling development, our archaeologist discovered
that the famed writer, Harriet M. Welsch, sometimes wrote her middle initial "M"
and sometimes "M, period."
What does it mean?
Well, most likely, it means that Harriet M. Welsch never truly existed,
rather was a pen name kept by
the amazing writer, President Marion Hawthorne.
Mom, Dad.
Am I "Harriet M, period Welsch" or "Harriet M, no period Welsch"?
I need to know now!
-Why, "M, period," of course. -Just "M, no period."
Honey, it's supposed to be "M, period," because--
Well…
No, it's just "M." No period.
How do you two not know? You gave me my name!
Well, it's complicated.
We need to tell her, Carol.
You see, Harriet, when I was filling out your birth certificate…
we didn't want to give you a middle name.
But then we had a little glitch.
Dang pen. Gotta get the ink going.
I didn't think anything of it, but apparently
they put that little scribble into the system as an "M." No period.
So, I'm a scribble?
Her middle name was really an "M" scribble?
It's no wonder that she never amounted to much of anything.
Not like the greatest writer-president in the history of the known universe.
Marion Angelina Hawthorne.
In Greek, "Angelina" means "messenger" and "angel."
Hip-hip-hooray! Hooray! Hip-hip-hooray! Hooray!
Why didn't you try to fix it?
By the time we figured it out,
I guess we decided we liked the "M," so we kept it.
It's really not as bad as you think.
You're right. It's worse.
I can't be a writer with a scribble for a middle name.
Ole Golly, what's your middle name?
Willa. Like Willa Cather, the writer.
Now that is a beautiful middle name.
The next morning, I wasn't even mad anymore.
Just down, really down. Even the funnies weren't helping.
Say, Harriet--
Please, call me "Scribble." I should start getting used to it.
We're sorry, dear. We didn't know it would make you so upset.
And we want to make it right.
It's a book of baby names. We thought--
We thought you could choose an "M" name for yourself.
Then we'll all go right down to City Hall to change it in your records.
Harriet "M, period"-- because now it stands for something-- Welsch.
As much as I wanted to keep moping,
the book was a tempting solution.
But I needed to consult some top-level experts before I made a move.
-Harriet… -Scribble…
Welsch?
Hey. This is serious. I don't even know who I am anymore.
Am I still a spy? Do I still like tomato sandwiches? Hang on.
Okay, that part of me is still good.
Wait, I'm confused. What's wrong with being a scribble?
I think "Harriet Scribble Welsch" is pretty great.
Janie, have you ever heard of a writer with "Scribble" for a middle name?
Would you read a book by Louisa "Scribble" Alcott?
Yes, probably twice.
My parents want me to pick my own "M" middle name from this book.
Should I even bother?
You get to pick your own middle name?
You should absolutely bother.
All we have to do is find the "M" name that just screams you.
We started off with "Melanie."
Then a "Mae."
A "Margaux."
A "Mordecai."
Ha-ha!
And saving the worst for last, the "Merlin."
Bee!
Another egg cream, Darby.
I think you've had enough for today, young lady.
Darby, I'm a growing girl.
Please don't mess with my egg cream intake, or I'll bite you!
Okay, I'm just gonna say it.
I still don't see what's wrong with "Scribble."
I've seen the future of Harriet "M Scribble" Welsch,
and it ain't pretty.
There are snooty bionic robots, and Marion's the president.
I think Darby's right. You have had too many egg creams.
Thanks for trying.
But maybe I'm just not cut out to be an "M" middle name person.
Yeah, what if you're really not?
What do you mean?
That scribble your dad made on the birth certificate,
has anyone ever really looked at it?
How do we know it really looks like an "M"?
We don't. You're right.
It could look like a completely different letter. Gotta check this out.
Friends, this is a journey to the deepest reaches of my soul.
I gotta go solo.
If she doesn't want "Scribble," I'm taking it.
I arrived at City Hall ready for the moment of truth.
Ready to see who I really was. Ready to--
Stand in a line longer than the Mississippi River.
Rats and double rats!
This isn't funny, kid. I don't know what my middle name is.
That clerk looks like a grown-up Pinky Whitehead.
Maybe it's a future Pinky, sent back through time to 1964
on a daring mission to make the line go as slowly as possible.
A little tip.
Next time you have a question,
you can avoid the line by calling that number.
It was a number that gave me a big idea.
One that would require the guts, skill and cunning
that only a legendary spy could pull off.
Scuse me for a moment.
City Hall name registry. Charles speaking.
Hello, Charles. My name is Carol Welsch, yes, the Carol Welsch,
and I'm stupendously busy today, so I'm sending my wonderful daughter
to review her birth certificate.
Okay, ma'am, I think--
But first, would you mind reading her full handwritten name back to me?
Sure.
Oh, okay, I've got it, Mrs. Welsch. The handwritten name is "Harriet--
Harriet…"
Yes? Yes?
Harriet what?
Harriet "W"? Or Harriet "R"? A "Q" perhaps?
I'm sorry, but it's just a scribble, ma'am.
A scribble? Are you sure?
Yep. Like someone was trying to get the ink started on a pen.
And that's when I officially lost what was left of my mind.
Ma'am? Ma'am? Are you there?
Hello? Hey.
Sorry, Charles. I just need to see something real fast. Two seconds.
The clerk was right. It was a scribble, and nothing but.
Little girl, it's been two seconds. Please return the document.
I can't do that, Charles. I'm sorry.
Hey! Stop her. Security!
I didn't know what my legs were doing.
It was like my whole body went on bad choice autopilot.
All I knew is that I was a scribble, and I had to destroy the evidence.
Get back here!
I explained everything to the security guards,
but they called my folks anyway.
Nah, looks like an "E" on its side to me. It's not an "M."
I think it's a "two."
We are so sorry. So sorry.
Harriet M--
Harriet Welsch, what in the world have you done?
I'm sorry. I--
I didn't wanna be a scribble.
I tried to be a Meghan, and a Melanie, and even a Merlin. What a mistake.
But nothing felt right, and now I'm not sure who I am anymore!
I had gone from Harriet M. Welsch to Harriet "Scribble" Welsch,
to Harriet "Criminal" Welsch,
to Harriet "Blubbering Mess of Goo" Welsch.
Oh, Harriet.
We're so sorry.
Mr. and Mrs. Welsch?
I got this. If I may.
Harriet Scribble-Doodle-Chicken-Scratch Welsch,
if you're free, I'd like you to come with me.
Where are we going? Jail? Is it jail?
Harriet, I'm taking you somewhere to show you something.
That still could be jail.
I want you to see that no parents are perfect,
and sometimes they can make choices we don't always agree with.
Easy for you to say, Catherine Willa Galliano.
We are going to jail, aren't we?
We will be if you keep asking me that.
Catherine! My baby girl!
Hello, Mother.
Mother?
Oh, I never get visitors. Come in, come in.
Sit, sit.
Make yourself comfortable.
Now eat up. Don't be shy.
Catherine, I can't believe I'm finally meeting Harriet.
Little Harriet in her precious little outfit.
I felt like a precious little amoeba under a microscope.
Aren't you just precious?
How come your cute little glasses don't have lenses?
These are just for spying.
Of course they are. Adorable! Look at those cheeks. Come on.
Mother, please stop doting on her.
I never get to pamper anyone now that you don't live at home.
Seeing Ole Golly with her mom is like seeing a teacher outside school.
It shakes your world like a maraca.
Catherine, that jacket is too thin. You could freeze to death.
Get yourself a sweater from my room.
Mother, it's fall in New York, not winter in the Yukon.
Okay.
So, Harriet, what brings you to Far Rockaway today?
All I know is I'm on the wrong side of the law,
and Ole Golly wanted to show me something,
but I don't know how someone with a scribble for a middle name
is supposed to feel better getting advice from someone with a cool middle name
like "Willa," so I don't think it's gonna work.
You okay, Mrs. Galliano?
Willa? Willa?
Catherine Galliano, you get in here this instant!
Yes, Mother. What?
You are not still going by that ridiculous made-up middle name, are you?
I'm sorry. I didn't know.
Your middle name is not Willa. It's Myrtle.
The name of your great aunt. It is family, and you should know better.
Mother, we've been fighting over this since I was a child.
I don't like "Myrtle." It doesn't suit me.
Do you wanna see your birth certificate? You are Cathy Myrtle Galliano.
Don't call me Myrtle. And never call me Cathy.
Great. Not only had the curse of the scribble messed me up,
but it was also messing up Ole Golly and her mom.
What couldn't that cruddy scribble destroy?
"Willa." What kind of a name is that anyway?
Well, it's better than being a Myrtle.
I bet Myrtle didn't wanna be a Myrtle. Who'd wanna be a Myrtle?
Me! I, Harriet Welsch, like-- no, love the name Myrtle.
And I hereby adopt it as my own middle name.
If that's okay with you, Mrs. Galliano.
Ole Golly looked at me like I had grown a tail.
It was so convincing that I had to check to make sure.
That would be wonderful.
Wonderful, Harriet! Myrtle's name will live on.
Don't do that just for me, Harriet.
I only answer to "Harriet Myrtle Welsch."
Well, pardon my French, but hooray!
-That's not Fr-- -You are now an official member
of the Galliano family, Harriet Myrtle Welsch.
Name: Harriet Myrtle Welsch. Cause of death: suffocation by mom hug.
Harriet, come with me. I have something to show you.
This is why I tell you, "Never crack the spine of your books."
Books are precious, treat them with love.
These are all yours?
This is where "Willa" came from.
When I was a child, I wanted to be a writer
like the scribe of the Great Plains, Willa Cather.
So I changed my middle name to Willa.
Wait, you wanted to be a writer, Ole Golly? What happened?
I just didn't have the passion for it that you have.
But I discovered that I'm good at collecting books.
And all these tomes are going to be in my bookstore one day.
And I'm going to call it, "Willa's."
And guess whose first novel is going to go in the window someday?
Girls, before you go, take some leftovers with you.
I can't let these cannolis go to waste.
Goodbye, my little Harriet Myrtle Welsch.
Take care of my Catherine, all right?
I will. Don't worry!
You hate the name Myrtle, don't you?
Yep.
I knew it.
At first, I just took it to stop you two from fighting.
But I've been thinking about it, and, well,
Myrtle is part of you, so I'm keeping it.
So, you're going to go by "Harriet Myrtle Welsch" from now on?
Absolutely not. Are you kidding me?
I'm staying Harriet "M, period" Welsch.
But now I'll always know what the "M" stands for. Always.
When you become a famous writer,
people will find out that you're actually a Myrtle.
I don't care. After what I've been through,
I kinda figured out that good writing makes a writer,
not a good name.
-What's wrong? -I was just thinking,
if you're going to open a bookstore someday,
I guess you're not going to be my nanny forever.
Yes, Harriet. I will leave one day.
But don't worry, we'll always be connected.
After all, we both share the story of "M," don't we?
We're family now.
It's a good story. Also, we left the cannolis on the train.
So anyway, I forgave my mom and dad.
Like Ole Golly said, we all make mistakes, even parents. Especially parents.
And mistakes give you great stories.
I started mine with a scribble…
which turned into an "M" question mark,
then finished off the story with an "M" period.
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do
And I try my best to do good In the neighborhood
I smile real nice
And I strive to tell the truth
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do
I am gonna be who I wanna be
My autonomy
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
No, I won't cut my hair
And I'll wear whatever
I like it when I get to be myself
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do