An update from our twenty-eighth Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Saturday November 14, plus some of the output published below This week we focused on word choice as a way for writers to be sure they have conveyed their meaning as they meant to, and so that their readers will understand it. We looked at different approaches to considering choice of words, from expanding on idea by showing, rather than telling; to finding alternative words using synonyms and antonyms (with a warning about the possible pitfalls of the Thesaurus!); and a reminder about editing and re-writing (“Murder your darlings”). We briefly compared the first draft to the final version of Wilfred Owen’s poem Anthem for Doomed Youth and discussed how we felt about the various changes he had made–some of them ruthless–and how they strengthened the work. Then, we talked about 6-word stories, and how the work of cutting down one’s work can focus the reader (and the writer) on the key elements of your story. The Writing Challenge: Write a short story in 5 minutes; then spend the rest of the time analysing and cutting it down to the essentials, to make a 6-word story. The Participants: Charlotte, Lena, Georgia, Lena, Sadie, Angela, Anna, Anya, Ava, Charlotte, Elbert, Emma, Enni, Helen, Janani, Jonathan, Juniper, Keyang, Liam, Lina, Lucy, Ma’ayan, Madeline, Margaret, Olivia, Peri, Rithesh, Samantha, Nova, Teagan, Tilly, Ever. Anya Geist, 14Worcester, MA Ruins Crumble Anya Geist, 14 Original The wind softly blew, just a puff of breath. But it was a breath, it was alive, unlike the ruins over which it looked. The walls were crumbled and decayed, nearly churned to dust on the ground; the largest structure remaining was an archway where a door once stood. The trees all around the ruins were slumped and hunched, their long delicate fingers bent toward the ground in a perpetual state of mourning. Because in all honesty, this was a funeral. A funeral that had been going on for decades, as the coffin—the house—was slowly lowered into the ground; and the wind was its family, leaving it one last kiss as it departed from the world of the living. Six word version Ruins crumble in a gentle wind. Peri Gordon, 11Sherman Oaks, CA The Near-Doom Incident Peri Gordon, 11 Original We were hiking. I didn’t want to stroll. I stretched my legs and launched ahead of my parents, feet flying freely over the sandy trail. The foliage glittered around me like green and brown angels, but I paid no notice. I arrived at a place where a family was, positioned as if struggling to see something, but all I saw was rough, brown ground. They called for me to stop. My parents caught up. “Peri, they were taking a picture!” But no, they were not. The family pointed at a small, slithering thing snaking its way up the path. A rattlesnake. We showed our gratitude to the family that had saved me from doom, and we were on our way. No more running. Six word version Dashing ahead. Snake. Could’ve been doomed. Liam Hancock, 13Danville, CA Demons Liam Hancock, 13 Original Quaking fingers trace the deepest curves of the cup. A glass half full to me, half empty to her. Memories play out in her mind—memories of a battlefield where shells litter the ground alongside fighters. Fighter. She’s a fighter with no weapon. Enemy. She’s an enemy whose hands are clean of sin. Haunted. She is haunted, but those of us who have seen the worst are those of us whose lips are sealed the tightest. Six word version Today’s demons will haunt us tomorrow. Lina Kim, 10Weston, FL Too ManyOriginal Lina Kim, 10 Original A wolf. Two wolves, three wolves. Emerging from the pack. I stand before them. Too many. I am alone; they are too many to count. Will no one come to my aid? The alpha growls. I flinch. What to do? There are too many. Too many to befriend them all, to bend them towards trusting me. Too many to fight. Too many to ignore. Oh, how I wish they could be ignored. I do not wish to be torn apart. I would not wish that upon my worst enemy. Actually, I did once wish that upon my worst enemy. Too many. I cannot run for my life. I cannot fight back. I cannot do anything but stand, stand, stand, waiting to be rescued or torn apart. A rustle. Two, three, four rustles. Several more rustles of the leaves. Is someone coming to save me? More rustles. My pack rushes towards me. To fight against the others. I join them in the fight. I am the Zeta1. I am the general. I will help my family fight. Tonight, We will win. 1the Zeta is the lead warrior in a wolf pack. Six word version I lead my pack into battle. Elbert Park, 8Palo Alta, CA Untitled Elbert Park, 8 Original The rain was pouring. I had no protection. I had maximum adrenaline. I had to run, but I had nowhere to go soon. The coast was nearing, and that meant that either I was trapped and came out dead, or I was trapped and came out alive. I made a berserk run to the coast and soon washed up against it. . . I took for cover in a nearby house. It only took seconds, but for me it felt like an eternity. . . Six word version Rain pours No mercy I’m trapped Lucy Rados, 13Buffalo, NY Untitled Lucy Rados, 13 Original Lola stared wistfully outside the green glass window, waiting for her father, secretly knowing that he wouldn’t show up. It was like this every day, her absent father, her mother lying in bed of a sickness that never seemed to fade. Lola just wanted a normal happy, family. Instead she was stuck in this cycle of being the odd girl, the one left out of the rest of the
Writing Workshop #27: Revising, Rewriting, & Expanding
An update from our twenty-seventh Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Saturday November 7, plus some of the output published below This week we discussed various techniques for revising our writing, reminding ourselves that the process of writing is more often than not a process of re-writing! We looked back over some of the previous writing challenges to think about some of the techniques to use for polishing an existing piece of writing: Would some alliteration work? Could some additional depth emerge from more attention to the landscape or setting? More specific description of character? Writing form a different perspective? Adding a prequel or a sequel? We discussed all these ideas and more, plus the students had some great suggestions–such as changing the tense a piece was written in. The Writing Challenge: Use some of the techniques we discussed to rewrite, revise, expand, contract and improve one of your existing pieces of writing. The Participants: Peri, Lena, Lina, Nova, Liam, Jonathan, Elbert, Charlotte, Teagan, Lena, Maddie, Madeline, Anya, Hera, Angela, Tilly, Rithesh, Samantha, Charlotte, Georgia, Lena, Sadie, Anna, Ava, Charlotte, Emma, Enni, Helen, Janani, Juniper, Keyang, Ma’ayan, Margaret, Olivia, Ever. Peri Gordon, 11Sherman Oaks, CA Eyes (Revised) Peri Gordon, 11 I lay in my bed late one night, eyes shut tight, trying to fall asleep and failing. I heard the rain whispering outside, the cold, dark, dank rain. I was unusually tense. The brown quilt cover on my bed was a weight pressing down on me. Not a friend. And not a protector from the cold. I breathed in and out and tried to think pleasant thoughts. But every time, an image in my mind would transform into another. A lake would become a raging ocean storm, a rainbow would split into two giant…what were they? I opened my eyes, and I could still see them. They looked like two eyes themselves. Then they disappeared. I must have imagined it, I thought. But…they were so real. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Got a snack. Chills were zipping up and down my spine; I was convinced that they would paralyze me. I looked both ways every two seconds like I was crossing a street. I couldn’t prohibit myself from checking for danger, though I didn’t know why. I had never believed in any sort of fantastical dangers before. Dreaming? I pinched myself. My hands were cold. I flinched at their touch, as if it were someone else’s. I did not wake up. I took a deep breath, getting a mouthful and nose-full of the chilled air surrounding me, and went back into bed. Shut my eyes tighter than I normally do. Pinched myself again. No I didn’t…my hands were stiff at my sides. Think pleasant thoughts. I saw the rainbow split into the two eyes again, and I opened my eyes, and they were still there. They were beautiful in a way, shining in the dark, but they were piercing and looked at me accusingly. I wondered what the owner of those eyes was thinking about. Maybe about capturing me and taking me to some terrible, frigid place far from here. I hated the cold, and it seemed to be out to get me tonight. And then the eyes vanished again. My heart was beating rapidly. What was going on? I sat up. My lungs were breathing rapidly. What was going on? Maybe I was afraid of the dark. My eyes were blinking rapidly. What was going on? I tried to walk towards the light switch, though my legs were trembling. Rapidly. The eyes appeared and melded into the face of my least favorite movie villain from childhood. Smooth, pale, and smiling a thin-lipped, malicious smile. Long, dark hair. And the eyes made it worse. I shrieked. That alerted more eyes, more pale villains from nightmares years ago. Then I became one of them. Lina Kim, 10Weston, FL My Minecraft Journey: Autumn Lina Kim, 10 Hi! My name is Autumn, and I’m going to tell you about my journey to the village. I grabbed some food, saplings, and supplies, and set off into the forest. I walked for a couple of hours, and got hungry. It was nearing nighttime, so I built a shelter and planted saplings. I went mining, and wrote a little in my journal. I placed down my bed and went to sleep. In the morning, I picked up my house and put it in my inventory. Minecraft is overpowered that way. I traveled a little further, stopped for a snack, and continued on my way. Later, I built an iron golem to protect me from monsters. I finally arrived, and resolved to improve the village, seeing as it had tiny houses and only some jobs. There were no police, no pet stores, no hospitals, and no food shops, so I made all of those. I also built a wall to protect them from zombie sieges. Once, I was selling apples from my trees, and a villager came up to me and asked for an apple, promising me much more money than what I needed. I gave him an apple, and he fished through his pockets. His pale blue eyes widened, and he handed back the apple with trembling hands. He ran off. I shrugged. Oh, well. If he doesn’t want the apple, he doesn’t want the apple. I went to my house, and I saw someone on my glass roof trying to break it. I climbed up there with my spare grappling hook- my other one was missing- and pushed him off the edge. He died and dropped several riches. And my grappling hook. It turns out that this guy stole all of the money from the man at my apple stand. Once he respawned, I put the robber in jail and gave the money back to the victim. Eventful, huh? Well, I was writing a story when someone knocked on the door. I opened it and a
Flash Contest #25, November 2020: write a story with a traditional fairytale beginning and end – our winners and their work
Flash Contest #25: Write a Story that begins with “Once upon a time in a land far away. . .” and ends with “. . . and they all lived happily ever after.” Our November Flash Contest was based on our weekly creativity prompt #125, asking participants to write a story–any story–with the traditional fairy tale opening and closing lines. What a difficult task we had judging these entries! We could see that all our entrants had fun with the idea of playing with and subverting the fairytale form, and we loved reading the range of imaginative journeys everyone took. While we enjoyed many stories involving the more traditional witches, royalty, dragons and other magical creatures (not necessarily in traditional mode, though!), we also encountered aliens and were transported into outer space–and even entered the mind of a roll of toilet paper (look out for that one on the Covid-19 blog)! A huge thank you and a hearty well done to everyone who wrote a piece and submitted it to us. In particular, we congratulate our Honorable Mentions and our Winners, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners The Aliens by Benjamin Fraenkel, 8, Mansonville, Quebec, Canada The Queen and the Tiara by Samantha Lee, 11, Thomaston, CT The Bookcase by Iago Macknik-Conde, 13, Brooklyn, NY The State of Matter by Maya Mourshed, 8, Silver Spring, MD The Forest of Mystery by Areesha Nouman, 12, Westlake, OH Honorable Mentions Happily Ever After by Isabella Bixler, 13, Fairview Park, OH The Witch’s Journey by Lorena Manrique, 11, Fort Worth, TX Dragon Tales by Georgia Grace Hoover, 11, Forth Worth, TX The Naughty Princess by Atalie Lyda, 11, Portland, OR My True Self by Michelle Peng, 10, Scarsdale, NY Selected for the Stone Soup Blog Pecky’s Bravery Saves The Forest by Elise Cheung, 8, Danville, CA The Toilet Paper Roll’s Quest by Charlotte Zhang, 12, Portland, OR Benjamin Fraenkel, 8Mansonville, Quebec, Canada The Aliens Benjamin Fraenkel Once upon a time, in a land far away, a rocket-ship landed in the middle of a playground. I know because I was there. I was just walking home from school when an unknown kind of alien climbed out of it right next to the sandbox. Their rocket-ship made poisonous gas and horrible noise. And they themselves were unlike anything I had ever seen. They had two eyes, one nose, one mouth, two ears, hair uniquely on the tops of their heads and their skin was pale! They were also wearing weird white suits. I couldn’t understand them, so I took out my languaginzinator to comprehend what they were saying. Here’s what appeared on the screen: “Who are these weird aliens with green hair covering their bodies, three eyes, two noses, two mouths, four ears, and shiny black skin!?” “No idea, but take out your gun, they may be dangerous!” Gun? I didn’t know what that was, but I was furious. They seemed to be insulting my green fur. I had groomed it nicely, thank you very much! I knew what I had to do. I had to go to the supreme king of Planet Benzadya, King Benzoubi. He was chosen by the citizens of Benzadya because he had gotten the highest mark on the goodheart-measurer. He was a kind, good ruler. “Aliens!? Hamuns? I mean, humans? My, my!” he exclaimed. “I must help them! I have seen how they destroy each other and their planet. I will speak with them, and then I must create a portal to planet Dearth, eh, I mean, Earth.” He bustled out of the room in a hurry. I heard much talk after that, and I even overheard them speaking about something they call “war” where they divide into groups as though to play zorkball, but instead they kill each other! Silly hamuns! We gave them a goodheart-measurer, a device that allows you to detect jealousy, anger and goodness in a person’s heart. And also a copy of Benzadya’s book of wisdom translated into human-speak. We all study it in school here. I have not seen the humans since then, but I can only hope that they brought our wisdom back to Earth and lived happily ever after. THE END Samantha Lee, 11Thomaston, CT The Queen and the Tiara Samantha Lee, 11 Once upon a time, in a land far away there lived a little bunny. The bunny’s name was Tiara, for it had long been told in those parts that if you said the right words, the little bunny would turn into a gleaming tiara. Tiara’s fur was a perfect, sparkling white and was softer than fresh snow on a winter day. Her graceful ears and big eyes made Tiara the cutest little rabbit in all of the land. She would spend her days frolicking in the Caramel Meadows and bounding through the Lollipop Forest. Sometimes, the bunny would go to the far edge of the meadow and look up at the sky where she could just imagine a shimmering castle glistening beneath the clouds, always housing a little princess in a sparkly tiara and glittering gown. As it turned out, Tiara’s imagination was closer to reality than she would have thought, though farther off than she would have wished. The sparkles and light had long since vanished from The Castle in the Distance. So had the glittering girl Tiara pictured. Instead there loomed a stark, menacing castle and a Queen that was both starker and more menacing. The Queen’s imagination wasn’t nearly so lighthearted as Tiara’s. The Queen imagined conquering more wide, green lands and taking more innocent people as servants. The Queen’s favorite word was “more”, especially when it came after the word “much”. One day, The Queen heard tell of the magical bunny Tiara from one of her older servants. A wicked grin spread across her lips and an evil laugh slipped out. The Queen wanted Tiara. She wanted her very much. And when the Queen wanted something, she would do anything at all to get it. Tiara inhaled deeply as she sat in one of her favorite clearings in the Lollipop Forest. A sweet, fresh smell always seemed to linger about there, making the whole clearing radiate a perfect aroma. The berries were
