Let’s say you have a strong opinion about something you see happening in the world. You know it is wrong, and you want to speak out. The most direct way to make your point would be through a nonfiction article or essay. But you could also convey your message, perhaps even more powerfully, through fiction. In the May/June 2015 issue of Stone Soup, 12-year-old author Evelyn Chen did just that. Her story, The Voice of the Seal, deals with a serious worldwide problem. Every year hundreds of thousands of ocean animals get tangled up in abandoned fishing nets. Many of them suffer and die. In Evelyn’s story, two cousins, Cordelia and Georgia, are staying at the family beach house when they both have the same nightmare. They are in the ocean, trapped in a net, struggling for air, drowning. The girls wake up in the middle of the night. They hear a voice coming from the beach, calling their names. They don’t know what is happening, but they decide to follow the voice. What they find breaks their hearts. In the blackness of night, they make out a dark shape, thrashing in the water. They splash through the waves and discover . . . a seal, caught in a fishing net, desperately trying to get free. The girls look at each other. The seal looks at the girls. They know what they have to do. For several hours they steadily work at the net, pulling it apart little by little. They are cold and wet, but they don’t care. They don’t stop until the seal is free. The girls head home, exhausted but happy. Were you drawn into this story like I was? Cordelia and Georgia are described so well that we feel like we know them. We can picture the cozy bedroom in the beach house. Artist Teah Laupapa’s illustrations help bring the girls and their summer home to life. When they hear the voice, we hear it too. When they see the dark form struggling in the water, we see it too. We feel the injustice of the innocent seal’s battle with the abandoned net. Why did this terrible thing happen? How can we help? I found myself Googling “fishing nets kill seals” after I read the story. I wanted to know more. Try it! You’ll see that many organizations are working on this problem. Maybe your family would like to donate to one of them. Evelyn’s story is not a true story, but it is a powerful story, based on the truth. Through fiction, she shines a light on a worldwide problem. By focusing in on three characters, Cordelia, Georgia, and the seal, she personalizes the problem and helps us understand it. This is what great writing can do.
It’s All in the Details (engaging the senses)
In honor of St. Patrick’s Day on March 17, we chose “Leprechaun Rain” as the featured story from our March/April 2015 issue. This is not a complex story. Emma lives with her parents and grandmother on a farm in Ireland. Some of the family’s sheep are missing in a storm, and Emma sets out to find them. When she does, everyone returns home safe and sound. Even a simple story can be special, if the author fills it with little details that make the characters and places come alive. Author Hannah Ogden has done just that. Four of our five senses are engaged as Hannah describes what Emma sees, hears, touches, and smells in the first part of the story. The only light in Emma’s room comes from a flickering candle. Rain hammers on the roof. Thunder cracks overhead. The old farmhouse feels especially cold because of its gray stone walls. And when Emma’s dad comes in from the storm, his clothing smells of wet wool. Hannah includes vivid details in the second part of her story as well, when Emma encounters a band of fairies and leprechauns in the forest. A green haze rises up from their bonfire. The leprechauns wear green, while the fairies wear every color in the rainbow. The fairies’ song sounds like light rain falling on grass. The air is filled with the sweet smell of lilacs and fresh grass, of freshly baked bread and springtime. The lost sheep are there too, and Katie comes up to nuzzle Emma’s arm. These details make us believe this part of the story, even though it is fantastical. Yes, Emma did fall and hit her head right before she saw the leprechauns and fairies, but of course they are real, right? In addition to the details that engage our senses, Hannah has added another little detail that makes her story shine: a special understanding between Emma and her grandmother. They are together twice, once in the barn and once at the very end of the story. Both times, they seem to know what the other is thinking. In the barn, Grandmother Josephine assures Emma that the sheep will be all right in the storm. But when Emma looks into her grandmother’s eyes, she knows they tell a different story. At the end of the story, Emma keeps her encounter with the fairies and leprechauns a secret from her parents. One look at Grandmother Josephine, and Emma realizes her grandmother knows her secret. This bond between Emma and her grandmother brings a very human element to the story. Sometimes two people just click, they understand each other without speaking. The two fictional characters seem more like real people because of their deep connection. And speaking of making things real, illustrator Isabella Ronchetti has picked up many of the little details of the story in her beautiful illustrations (one of them used as the cover for our new edition of The Stone Soup Book of Fantasy Stories). We see Emma’s cold attic room with its stone walls, lit only by a candle, in the first illustration. Emma’s anxious face, with her light freckles and wild black hair, fills the page. In the second illustration, we see the magical clearing in the forest, the ring of toadstools, the colorful fairies dancing around a bonfire, the gold coins on the ground. Even the characters in silhouette are detailed. We see the leprechaun’s beard, hat, boots, and flute. We see Emma and Katie in lifelike detail too. We applaud both author and artist for using detail to create great works of art. Bravo, Hannah and Isabella!
Celebrating the Melting Pot
The United States is made up of people who immigrated here from all over the world. Some came a long time ago, some more recently. All of us are Americans, who have “melted” together into one culture. But many of us have kept the traditions of our ancestors alive, especially when it comes to foods and holiday celebrations. And that’s what makes our culture so rich and interesting! “Being Lucia,” by Molly O’Toole, the featured story from our January/February 2015 issue, introduces us to the Swedish holiday St. Lucia’s Day. Like Christmas and Hanukkah, St. Lucia’s Day falls near the winter solstice (the shortest day of the year), and it shares a love of light with the other winter holidays. St. Lucia’s Day has its own song—the St. Lucia song—and its own treats—homemade Lucia buns. When a daughter turns thirteen, she plays the part of St. Lucia. She wears a white dress with a red sash, and a wreath with seven candles in it. She serves Lucia buns and coffee to the adults in the family, while her siblings walk behind her, singing the song. Author Molly O’Toole and illustrator Ravela Smyth have done a wonderful job of recreating the beauty of the holiday and the excitement a young girl feels when she gets to be Lucia for the first time. Notice all the ways in which Molly shows her main character’s anticipation. She “springs out of bed,” her stomach is doing “flip-flops.” It’s like “waiting in line at the amusement park; waiting for hours and hours. But finally you get to go on the ride, and it’s the most amazing and exhilarating roller coaster that you will ever go on in your whole life.” And at the end of the story, we’re right there with Elizabeth as her “eyes fill with tears” and she feels as if she is “melting away into the bright candle surroundings, and everywhere is light.” Did your parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents immigrate to the United States from another country? Has your family kept some holiday traditions alive from the old country? Think about what those traditions mean to you, then put pencil to paper (or keyboard to monitor). Give the reader the details he or she needs to feel what you feel, your excitement and joy, as your family celebrates in its own way.
