Acrylics Alyssa Wu, 12Pleasanton, CA
Editor’s Note
This year, we began publishing nonfiction in the magazine. In this issue, I am excited to finally share the winners of the Personal Narrative Contest we ran with the Society of Young Inklings last fall. These three narratives give us a sense of the scope and range of narrative nonfiction. In “Locked Out of Kindergarten,” Kateri Escober Doran recounts a single, indelible memory from kindergarten, blending thoughtful reflection on the social world with detailed, poignant scenes. In “Swirling Arabesques,” Zoe Kyriakakis demonstrates the poetic possibilities of prose. And, finally, in “Gratitude,” Alicia Xin shares the lessons she learned after spending a summer immersed in a different culture. I hope by reading these narratives, and the ones we have been publishing in the magazine this year, that you are beginning to understand that nonfiction can be just as “literary”—as strange, as beautiful, as descriptive, as interesting—as fiction! And that it certainly need not end with a clear “lesson” or “moral.” I also hope you will enjoy the art, poetry, and two very fictional stories in this issue—both of which, in contrast to the nonfictional narratives, focus on human-animal relationships. Welcome to fall!
Woodsy Owl
Acrylics Paige Smith, 8Benton, AR
Fall
Samsung Nook Vivian Torres, 9Chicago, IL
SEARCHING FOR BOW AND ARROWS
Because I wanted to feel like an Amazon I asked my father to build me a bow with arrows. We went to the nearby woods that overlook Forest Beach in the village of South Chatham. My father, sister, and I followed A wavy uphill path to the clearing Where we found young oak trees With pointy, strong branches. We sawed off three branches That looked like they would suffice. We carved them and sanded them, And we bent them till they could sing. By the time we had finished tying the string, The evening chill had descended. We shot our arrows into the darkening sky Where the stars scampered like red foxes. Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer, 13Brookline, Massachusetts
THE WILD CIRCUS
The unspeakable juggler on a unicycle tamed the lion. The cunning lion tamer flipped and turned on the trapeze bar. The lively trapeze artist rode on the unicycle and juggled. The creepy clown lifted strongman’s weights. The sweaty strongman tried to scare kids with his silly costume. The vicious tiger who jumped through the fire hoop sat in the cage with the hungry lion. The next day the circus was not looking so good. Not at all. The tiger and lion were now rats. The trapeze and strong man became slobbery pigs and all they wanted to do was eat. The tightrope walker and juggler on the unicycle transformed to white sheets. With a pop and a rumble, the creepy clown and lion tamer became pesky flies buzzing around. An awful day for the circus indeed. Somehow the next day everything was back to normal. Somehow. Analise Braddock, 9Katonah, New York
Stone Soup Honor Roll: July/August 2020
Welcome to the Stone Soup Honor Roll! We receive hundreds of submissions every month by kids from around the world. Unfortunately, we can’t publish all the great work we receive. So we created the Stone Soup Honor Roll. We commend all of these talented writers and artists and encourage them to keep creating. – The Editors Scroll down to see all the names (alphabetical by section), including book reviewers and artists. ART Christian Goh, 12 Nolan Mealer, 10 Sage Millen, 12 FICTION Antara Gangwal, 12 Celia Miller Pitt, 13 Kai Wells, 11 Miles Wright, 12 Jiaji Yang, 12 NONFICTION Leon Bui, 11 Sunshine Mitchell, 12 Renee Shi, 10 POETRY Laurel Aronian, 12 Benjamin Ding, 8 Mackenzie Duan, 13 Quinton Fitzgerald, 9 Anya Geist, 13 Oisin Stephens, 10 Andi Jo Wroblewski, 9
THE GRADUATES
I was ten. I stayed on the Upper West Side, An old hotel with dusty paintings in gilded frames. My father kept telling me not to lose anything And not to be on my smartphone all the time. I was on the third floor, not too far from the ground, A view of a bird’s nest and dark alleyways Cluttered with trash cans and filled With loud music for the graduates. As the day unfolded, aging parents woke up And came down to take their coffee At the French bistro Nice Matin, Where croissants were warm and omelets runny. As I watched these parents at breakfast, I thought they looked both anxious and glad And I wondered if they too felt like graduates Starting a new adventure. Soon these graduates will dissolve Into a big new world, a hidden one Beneath the water’s edge— That I have yet to see, have yet to love. Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer, 13Brookline, Massachusetts
MOPING ALONG MUDDY RIVER
On a cold winter morning I have a class At the Museum of Fine Arts. The frosty wind awakens me. I turn to the river and there, Like a still life created overnight: Muddy ice, shaped like dirty brushes, A mallard crossing to the other side, A plastic bottle floating in the water hole. As I run up the granite steps I know what to paint today. Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer, 13Brookline, Massachusetts
A DOUBLE-HEADED MAN
Very clever but makes no sense, He says he’s always on the fence, Both a friend and an enemy at war Though standing in the corridor, Quiet and peaceful with hints of love, Both minds have something from above. Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer, 13Brookline, Massachusetts
THE FOG’S MYSTERIOUS CLEARING
The morning dew crept in As the blackbirds began to sing. The sky was covered with fog As the coyote chased the small dog. Soon the mystery was gone And the morning sunrise began. And I wondered, greeting the day: Who cleared the fog away? Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer, 13Brookline, Massachusetts
THE CAST IRON STAIRCASE
In the market town of Yelets in the south of Russia, stands an old high school for women that survived wars and destruction. Everything in the building has been restored, except the cast iron staircase with curving steps and black, polished railings. Everything has been lost. Only this cast iron staircase remembers the light steps of the young women who ran down, clutching their new diplomas, dreaming about freedom. Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer, 13Brookline, Massachusetts
