from the Stone Soup Blog from “Flamethrower” I was almost eleven in the warm, windy fall of the year 2019 when my baseball team, the Bulldogs, was playing in the little league semifinals. But still, I couldn’t help but want to crawl under my bed where I would be safe. I couldn’t even bear to glance at the opposing pitcher’s deep blue eyes. His fastball was so fast that if you rode on it around a highway, you would get fined for speeding. My team crammed in the dugout before the game started, each of us getting to know one another way more than we wanted to. I swear I smelled vomit on the jersey of one of my teammates. “Listen up, Bulldogs!” my coach, Adam, began to yell. “It’s the semifinals— if we don’t win this, each of you owes me five laps around the field!” Everyone groaned. Everyone, with the exception of me and a few other boys. Not that we wanted to run laps, mind you, but because we were staring at the five-foot-seven kid on top of the mound warming up. He was literally throwing fireballs into the catcher’s rusty old well-padded brown mitt, with the glove strings tightly knotted. For a second, I didn’t care about the ten-pound gold trophy sitting on the table behind the dugout that would be handed out to the winner. I just cared about not getting plunked in the face by a seventy-mile-per-hour fastball thrown by the eleven-year-old Godzilla. Alright, alright, call me a scaredy cat, but let’s face it—you would be freaking out too. The tap of Bowen Orberlie, one of my teammates, brought me back to reality. “Earth to Jacob!” he said into my ear. I shook, and glanced up at my coach, who was throwing darts out of his eyes to every single one of my teammates. Glancing down at a torn-up sheet of paper, he began to scream the starting lineup aloud, with little tiny molecules of spit coming out of his wide-open mouth as he spoke. “Chan, leading off!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, so loud you would have thought he was my cousin after watching the New York Mets lose. I froze. To be honest, I should have been proud of my nearly .370 on-base percentage that had gotten me the role of batting leadoff in the semifinals, but—I. Did. Not. Want. To. Face. This. Pitcher. The rest of the lineup was a blur. I couldn’t think straight. Trembling, I grabbed my Rawlings blue-and-silver bat and stepped outside the dugout. I began to take some dry swings—you know, the swings that coaches and parents always say will “help you get better.” You can read the rest of Jacob’s piece at https://stonesoup.com/young-bloggers/. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, multimedia projects, and more—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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from Flash Contest #44 Last Vacation Dear Ela, I know this is weird, me, I mean you from the future, writing to you. This is very important though. Vacation is very special to you, but I am begging that you spend less time re-reading your novels and watching the waves crash onto the shore endlessly at Cancun. Just forget trying to glimpse a moment where the whole ocean is still. It won’t happen. You haven’t really spent much time with your family lately, just endless piles of homework and doodling on scraps of paper. All those times they tried to make you talk about your day at dinner, they were helping you open up. I get it, your brother was—is—very annoying, but please stop calling him that name. And try to spend some more time with him. At least take him to a corner store for churros, which he will be crazy for a few days later. Or maybe to the putt putt place. He always wanted to go try even though you hated it. It’s not real golf. He’s into video games, right? What about the arcade room in the hotel? I guess that’s as close as it gets. Two days before you received this letter, he brought home a trophy from a swimming competition. But you being you, you just had to knock it off the shelf, breaking it into eleven giant shards of glass. Because he was constantly bragging. That’s what you told yourself. Yes, he is extremely angry right now, but making up with him is very important. And if you don’t even try? Just wait a little less than a month and you’ll feel like you’re floating in another dimension, waves of agony crashing into you that you can’t relieve. I still feel the same way, standing in my bedroom, face pressed against the window, as I stare at the waves. Destiny cannot be changed. This is the last vacation you’ll spend with him, so laugh your head off at his lame jokes and watch SpongeBob SquarePants on the giant black television with him until you realize you never want to see a sponge again in your life. Best wishes, Ela Stone Soup holds a flash contest during the first week of every month. The month’s first Weekly Creativity prompt provides the contest challenge. Submissions are due by midnight on Sunday of the same week. Up to five winners are chosen for publication on our blog. The winners, along with up to five honorable mentions, are announced in the following Saturday newsletter. Find all the details at stonesoup.com/post/stone-soup-monthly-flash-contest-winners-roll/.
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From the Stone Soup Blog A Review of The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea Every year, May is celebrated as AAPI Month in honor of the Asian American and Pacific Islanders who have contributed to the world. With popular reading platforms like Goodreads publishing lists of AAPI authors, the month has been a lovely whirlwind of new #ownvoices books topping my to-be-read list. Through it all, the one that has completely taken my breath away is a Korean-coded fantasy debut to the beat of Miyazaki’s Spirited Away. The gorgeous cover of Axie Oh’s The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea depicts Mina, a young girl whose role has never yet been the protagonist. The loveliest girl in her village is Shim Cheong, but Cheong’s beauty is as much of a blessing as it is a curse—every year, a girl bride is sacrificed to the Sea God in hopes of satiating the deadly storms that sweep the land. Legend says that only the Sea God’s true bride will calm the floods forever. Beautiful Cheong is set to be the annual sacrifice, but there is one problem: she loves Mina’s brother. To save her brother’s beloved, Mina jumps into the sea as a sacrifice instead, becoming the reckless heroine of her own story. In the watery depths, she enters the Spirit Realm, where spirits and creatures and gods abound. But nothing is as it seems. As Mina tries to figure out why the Sea God is causing so many storms in the human world, her soul is stolen. From there, Mina must venture through a world of magic and lost stories and vengeful gods to seek answers about the Sea God, lest she become a spirit forever. This book painted one of the lushest, most breathtaking settings I have ever had the pleasure to immerse myself in. Axie Oh brought the fascinating world of the Spirit Realm to life with such a detailed hand that I could feel the flurry of spirits, smell vendors’ candies and desserts, see the gilded palaces and gardens. I loved the Korean culture incorporated into the book, from the twist on the tale of Shim Cheong to the Red String of Fate. There was something about the aesthetic of the book that felt wholly comforting. Perhaps what I adored most were the themes. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Mina; she seemed like yet another perfect Mary Sue heroine, the clean-cut, selfless kind of girl about as real as a unicorn. As the book progressed, though, I began to see her flaws: her fear, her doubt, but her unwavering filial piety triumphing nevertheless. Mina stayed strong because of and for her family, which I deeply admired; it was steeped in the book’s Asian roots and ideologies, untarnished by romance or ulterior motives. Flashbacks to her grandmother’s wonder and storytelling ability were wonderfully written and executed. Even when Mina was struggling, she sought to comfort others and wove stories like her grandmother’s that were more magical than anything in the Spirit Realm. Mina was wise beyond her years and wielded her vulnerabilities like knives, which is the bravest thing of all. You can read the rest of April’s review on our website. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, multimedia projects, and more—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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From the Stone Soup Blog Smartphone Addiction: One Middle Schooler’s Perspective When I look at my classmates’ faces, absorbed in their smartphones, they look eerily expressionless, even hollow. Their eyes look tired and droopy; their faces look drained and sulking. They look like they have no choice. It is almost as if they are compelled by some unseen force to use every second of the time limit their parents have set on their devices. I cannot help but think of them as stuck in quicksand. They are not even trying to get out of it! I think my fellow classmates, and most middle school students and teens, are addicted to smartphones. Smartphones have taken over our society. According to 2019 data, 53% of American children own a smartphone by the time they are eleven. Eighty-four percent of teenagers own a smartphone. I have read many news reports in which researchers claim that smartphones can be fun and educational for children and teens and help them socialize with others. As a middle school student who sees the negative impacts of excessive smartphone usage in school, I strongly disagree with these claims. Parents must take the responsibility because they are the ones who choose to give their children smartphones. Some parents think that by setting time limits and parental controls they can control their child(ren)’s phone use. I think this just makes things worse. Students in my school use all the time they have on their smartphones until their time limit goes off. They seem to be waiting for that time in the day when they can use their smartphones; they are the first thing they reach for at lunchtime. This machine seems to immerse them. Sometimes I imagine them turning into machines. Why do parents give their children smartphones? This question has been haunting me, and I think I finally know the answer now. Parents want to have a good relationship with their children, so they give them everything they want to make them happy. Parents may also think that their child is growing up and they deserve to have a smartphone. It is possible that their child is nagging them to have a smartphone because their friends have one. Some parents want their children to be able to communicate with them or contact them. Some others may think that there are many advantages to using smartphones, including playing games, socializing, having fun, and learning. Yet others may think their children are not susceptible to these kinds of behaviors. Others might think the disadvantages are minor. I do not think any of these are good enough reasons to give your child a smartphone because of all the severely negative impacts it can have on a child. It breaks my heart to see children not being children, and students not being students. Children are missing social and academic experiences in school. They are getting into patterns of behavior that are hurting them now and will hurt them in the future. I urge parents not to give their children smartphones at such a young age. Give children their childhood back. This is an abridged version of the original article. To read the full piece, go to Stonesoup.com/young-bloggers/. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, multimedia projects, and more—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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From the Stone Soup Blog Goodbye to “Happily Ever After”: A Review of Little Women Grace Huang, 13 Skillman, NJ Kind Cinderella lives luxuriously in a castle after enduring her hardships obediently. Gentle Snow White gets saved by the dashing prince because of her sweet personality. Loving Sleeping Beauty wakes up from her slumber with a single kiss. Characters in these cherished fairy tales we’ve grown up with always end up with their dreams being fulfilled—if they’ve been virtuous. Then what explains what happens to the girls in Little Women by Louisa May Alcott? Little Women documents the growth of four very different sisters—Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy—from childhood to womanhood. Each sister symbolizes a distinct type of personality, but how they end up in life doesn’t match readers’ initial expectations. By steering us away from our preconceptions, Alcott accurately depicts what life is really like: sometimes unfair and cruel, yet undeniably satisfying. From Alcott, I learned to accept that “happily ever after” doesn’t exist, nor is it ultimately gratifying. My mom had recommended this book to me, but I was hesitant to read it because the story of four girls didn’t initially intrigue me. However, after learning that Alcott’s father, Amos Bronson Alcott, was a friend of Emerson’s and a leader in the transcendentalist movement of the time, I decided to try it. How might Alcott’s feminine perspective of this period add to my understanding? I soon became lost in the intriguing plot, which takes place during the Civil War, and realized that this novel offers so much more than I had anticipated. The hardship the characters had to endure during this difficult period in American life and the complex moral message for women of all ages have had a lasting impact on me. Though they grew up in the same household, the sisters are all quite different, and each is sharply drawn. Meg dreams of ending up in the lap of luxury but is eventually content with something quite the opposite. Jo, a classic tomboy, learns to balance her literary ambitions with tenderness. Beth, an ever-dutiful daughter, willingly resides at her cozy home without any further aspirations, while Amy grows from a pampered little girl to an ardent artist. My two favorite characters are Jo and Amy, despite the fact that they are opposites. Both are ambitious girls, but Amy’s graceful manners are what society valued in a woman at the time, while Jo’s headstrong spirit is often questioned. Even though frivolous Amy almost always winds up better off than Jo, Alcott twists our expectations to ensure that each girl ends up content in her own way. It’s a harsh truth that practicality sometimes wins out over idealism and that being virtuous doesn’t ensure a happy ending. You can read the rest of Grace’s review on our website. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, multimedia projects, and more—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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Writing Workshop #53, with William In this writing workshop, William asked participants to focus on an origin story of a great character Beginnings Madeline Kline, 12 Potomac, MD Everyone always focuses on the end. Never the beginning. When people talk about my writing, their comments always have something to do with my endings. People love a strong ending. They love a powerful note, a note that resonates with readers. They always forget the beginning. Always. If life were a story, childhood would be the beginning. The first few notes, the introduction to the song, or the part of a story where the reader goes around getting accustomed to the characters. If my life were a story, I would have too many characters in my beginning to keep track of. Me, my family, the people in my young writers club, everyone else I’ve ever known. The thing is, life keeps introducing new characters and forgetting about the old ones. It’s almost as if the writer can’t make up her mind. Should she keep this character throughout the story? Should she add someone else as the best friend? Should she add a redshirt, a character who’s introduced only to dramatically leave the show? But it doesn’t matter what she does. Because nobody ever pays attention to the beginning. I find examples of that throughout my life. When I get a bad grade on an eighth-grade assignment because I turned it in fifteen minutes late. It’s the end of the world, but it’s not. Because middle school doesn’t matter. Neither did elementary school. So why does childhood matter? Why do I need to add extravagant language, beautiful imagery, outstanding metaphors, when nobody pays attention anyway? Does childhood ever start to matter? The answer is no, I think, as I turn the corner, heading uphill toward my high school. I’m alone outside, with no company but my own mind, and my own footsteps. The sun decided to sleep in today. When I left my house, it was still dark, and chilly. Now, the sun is lazily climbing out of bed, yawning. It radiates enough heat to push my jacket off my shoulders, and I pause to tie the jacket around my waist, now that I no longer need it. Read the rest of Madeline’s piece at https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-writing-workshop. About the Stone Soup Writing Workshop The Stone Soup Writing Workshop began in March 2020 during the COVID-19-related school closures. In every session, a Stone Soup team member gives a short presentation and then we all spend half an hour writing something inspired by the week’s topic or theme. We leave our sound on so we feel as though we are in a virtual café, writing together in companionable semi-silence! Then, participants are invited to read their work to the group and afterward submit what they wrote to a special Writing Workshop submission category. Those submissions are published as part of the workshop report on our blog every week. You can read more workshop pieces, and find information on how to register and join the workshop, at https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-writing-workshop.
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From the section of our blog devoted to writing inspired by COVID-19 Zooming In Maya Ruben, 10 Washington, DC “Knowing how to care is the first step, but actively going out of your way to do something nice is what really matters,” Ms. Sandra said in a welcoming voice. I found it funny how she thought no one noticed the filter she had on that made her lips red. Whenever she moved her mouth, the lipstick struggled to follow. She looked like a beginner ventriloquist trying to make minimal mouth movements. I was lying in bed with my pajamas on and my camera off. I split my screen in half with Zoom on one half and YouTube on the other. It turns out it is very entertaining to watch cats being scared of cucumbers. I finished up the first two classes, neither of which I listened to or cared about. I walked downstairs and saw my mom and dad talking. When I came, they stopped and looked over at me. “Hey, how’s school going?” asked Dad. “Same old, same old,” I said sarcastically. “So, Dad and I were talking about all of us going to the art museum together, when school is over for today,” said Mom. I was surprised by how she had said that so quickly and simply, like she was taking a single sip of a smoothie. It’s not that I didn’t like the idea; it was just weird to do so suddenly, after all this time in distance learning. But I was ready for it. When we got to the museum, I noticed that it was very small. Good. I don’t like big places. We secured our masks and walked inside. I was caught off guard by a beautiful piece of art on the wall. It was a lime-green circle with no significance whatsoever. But I was still captivated. The silence of this art was different from the silence of distance learning. I suddenly pulled my gaze away from the painting and realized my parents weren’t there. “Mom?” I asked. No reply. “Mom!” I raised my voice. Still no reply. I sat on an unwelcoming chair, looking back up at the picture, embracing the feeling of being alone. I felt meaningless in the wide universe. But I knew Mom and Dad couldn’t have gone far in this tiny, uncrowded place. I sighed and was about to stand up to go look for them, but first I felt the need to stay and collect my thoughts. Just for a moment, I was alone with the world. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, and multimedia projects—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. When the pandemic began, we got so much incredible writing about the experience of living through the lockdowns that we created a special category for it! You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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Flash Contest #37: Write about a character who has everything they wanted but still isn’t happy Gone Scarlet He, 10 Scarsdale, NY Once, in a faraway land, there was a person. Yes, a person. A plain, plain, person. This “person,” Chuo, was always wanting something. Always, always wanting, wanting something. Chuo lived in a small hut on the outskirts of Happiness Town, a town that was as happy and joyful as a buzzing bee collecting loads of pollen and nectar. A happy, happy, joyful town. This time, Chuo wanted ice cream. He longed for the creamy texture of the ice cream and gooey consistency of his favorite syrup, Super Happy Yummy Creamy Maple Syrup. Mmm, he thought, already drooling at the mouth. Super Happy Yummy Creamy Maple Syrup is my favorite. Yes, all he thought was of what he wanted and how it was the best and his favorite. His best, best, favorite thing. As he scrambled from his hut and into Happiness Town, flowers of the rainbow were blooming all around him, large crowds of people were zooming by, chattering like they had no care in the world, and birds sang in the distance. “Lovely day,” he greeted a person walking by him, but he really was not feeling lovely. “I can’t feel lovely until I’ve gotten my ice cream,” he muttered to himself as he came up to the usual shining stand of the ice cream shop. The shop had bright, bursting, beautiful colors painted on it. The wooden deck was standing on top of a large flower bed, which was exploding with color. Metal white chairs were propped on the deck, and many people wearing all sorts of clothes were occupying them. They sure do love color, thought Chuo, miserably. “Three scoops of Neapolitan ice cream with a large drizzle of Super Happy Yummy Creamy Maple Syrup and black licorice gooey sprinkles,” said Chuo to the cashier, who was already scooping out his ice cream. “Here you go: $5.00. And thank you!” replied the cashier with a humongous grin spread from the corners of his face. Chuo paid up, then hurried to the nearest unoccupied seat with his heaping scoops of ice cream. The ice cream looked absolutely delicious; the scoops of ice cream themselves were the perfect mixture of sweet and icy cold, and they were creamy like no other. The syrup was too good to be true—the gooey, sweet rainbow sauce was dripping down the scoops of ice cream and melting into it, turning the ice cream even sweeter. It had jet-black sprinkles mixed into it, and it was shining in the sunlight. Chuo licked his lips, then dug in, snarfing up the ice cream in one huge gulp. This time, Chuo grinned a huge grin. A huge, huge, grin. Read the rest of Scarlet’s story at https://stonesoup.com/contests/. About the Stone Soup Flash Contests Stone Soup holds a flash contest during the first week of every month. The month’s first Weekly Creativity prompt provides the contest challenge. Submissions are due by midnight on Sunday of the same week. Up to five winners are chosen for publication on our blog. The winners, along with up to five honorable mentions, are announced in the following Saturday newsletter. Find all the details at stonesoup.com/post/stone-soup-monthly-flash-contest-winners-roll/.
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From Stone Soup Writing Workshop #15, with Conner Bassett: Veering The Challenge: Write a poem or story that veers off its intended path. Change direction. Change your mind. And use the object that you chose at the beginning of class. A Rosy Carpet Ethan Zhang, 9 McLean, VA Outside my window A rosy carpet hovered. It was unreal Absurd And even insane Was what I told Myself. Yet I was convinced It was anything But a fantasy. Carefully I stepped on it Into the misty clouds I rose. The wind brushed my face And I flew, high, high Up and over The steely house The buzzing town About the Stone Soup Writing Workshop The Stone Soup Writing Workshop began in March 2020 during the COVID-19-related school closures. In every session, a Stone Soup team member gives a short presentation, and then we all spend half an hour writing something inspired by the week’s topic or theme. We leave our sound on so we feel as though we are in a virtual café, writing together in companionable semi-silence! Then, participants are invited to read their work to the group and afterward submit what they wrote to a special Writing Workshop submissions category. Those submissions are published as part of the workshop report on our blog every week. You can read more workshop pieces, and find information on how to register and join the workshop, at https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-writing-workshop.
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From the Stone Soup Blog Apart Together Ena Bahk-Pi, 12 San Francisco, CA Last year, in the first few months of quarantine, I was feeling overwhelmed and hopeless, but most of all, alone. We have all had those moments of feeling a crushing loneliness, of wanting to dig a hole and stay there. These feelings of isolation have only increased during the COVID-19 pandemic, and sometimes it is hard to realize that many others are experiencing the same thing. On the surface, flowers are bright and blooming and the sky is blue and clear, but underneath, the reality might be darker and lonelier. Making this piece helped me express my emotions through art, which I didn’t know was possible. I love how the different textures combined to show different aspects of what we are all going through. I hope this can encourage people to reach out to others who might be experiencing similar feelings during these difficult times. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, multimedia projects, and more—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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From the Stone Soup Blog An excerpt from How Nationality Affects the Eyes Sue Park, 12 Incheon, South Korea I stood in the middle of the hallway, frightened. I took a deep, slow breath as I took a giant step through the whooshing crowd of children. I quickly scanned the group of kids next to me; they looked like 3rd-graders that were enjoying the trip. I was blankly staring at them for a while when I heard someone calling me. My homeroom teacher motioned me to come, then smiled at me. At first, I thought she was waving at the playful boy behind me, but as I stuttered, she came up to me and told me that it was my turn for the interview. At that moment, I screamed, inwardly, “I don’t want to do this!” As my teacher carefully held my wrist and took me to the man from North Korea, I did not practice my script but rather practiced the karate skills that I had learned in kindergarten, fearing sudden violence. When I finally reached the door to the interview room, which looked like a torture chamber, my teacher nudged me calmly. At that moment, my teacher appeared to be a frightful green monster pushing me to the town of hell. Recognizing my fate, I trudged to the chair and quietly sat on the corner of it, ready to leave at any moment. Surprisingly, the man didn’t look any different from a normal South Korean man. He had a warm smile and he did not wear the military clothes that I had pictured in my head. As I quickly scanned him and looked into his plain black eyes, there was an awkward silence. And it felt like a millennium. When I couldn’t stand the silence much longer, I blurted out my first question: “What is the main obstacle you have faced in South Korea?” and as he answered accordingly, my stomach rumbled with guilt and fear. The man calmly listed out the prejudices and perceptions South Koreans had of him, and how difficult it was for him to find a job due to the people neglecting him after listening to his North Korean accent. As he listed out these examples, my guilt increased more and more due to the fact that I could relate to all of them. As if he noticed my pain, he asked, “Is something wrong?” and I replied, “No, I’m fine!” But, I knew this was a lie. * * * You can read the rest of Sue’s personal narrative on our website: https:// stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/. About the Stone Soup Blog We publish original work—writing, art, book reviews, multimedia projects, and more—by young people on the Stone Soup Blog. You can read more posts by young bloggers, and find out more about submitting a blog post, here: https://stonesoup.com/stone-soup-blog/.
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From Flash Contest #34 Inca Acrobat, 11 San Francisco, CA A River Flows in Me You fail to speak to me Even when the moon has risen Above the glittering Loire When my mind is awake But my body still Especially then You turn your back away My dreams fade away About the Stone Soup Flash Contests Stone Soup holds a flash contest during the first week of every month. The month’s first Weekly Creativity prompt provides the contest challenge, and submissions are due within a week. Up to five winners are chosen for publication on our blog. The winners, along with up to five honorable mentions, are announced in the following Saturday newsletter. Find all the details at Stonesoup. com/post/stone-soup-monthly-flash-contest-winners-roll/.
