Nishka Budalakoti, 10 (Foster City, CA) Covid Memories Nishka Budalakoti, 10 I’ve been as confused As a dog who chased It’s tail and caught it I’ve been as angry As a crocodile Who just couldn’t catch A meek little mouse I’ve been as nervous As a small chipmunk In a group of bulls And yet I’ve been as Patient as a spider Waiting on its web And I’ve stood as tall As a giraffe in The African heat And yet I’ve been kind Even though I feel Like a cat who has Been woken from her nap When it is morning And yes, things have gone Wrong, yes, things have Changed, but still, but still, I am still the same Because even though We might forget the Normal times when we’re Old, we will never Forget the different Times, never, ever ever. What doesn’t kill you Makes you stronger, but Also makes the best Memories of all. The featured image for this piece was taken by BlueJay and accompanied her poem “Wild.”
Saturday Newsletter: April 16, 2022
Colors (Panasonic Lumix ZS200) By Sage Millen, 13 (Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada), published in Stone Soup April 2022 A note from Caleb Good morning and happy Saturday! The last time I wrote the newsletter I led off by mentioning California’s need for April showers—well, the rain has started to fall, albeit in short bursts, and with it has come an abundance of flowers. (It’s not yet May, but the old adage can’t always be spot on.) In Santa Cruz, it is even scheduled to be raining right now, as this newsletter is being sent off, at 9 AM! And, scheduled for exactly a week from right now, at 9 AM Pacific, is our first Writing Workshop of the spring session—William Rubel’s—to be followed by Conner Bassett’s at 11 AM Pacific. You can sign up for both of these classes, as well as Book Club with Maya Mahony, using the blue button, below. I also spent my last newsletter giving rapturous praise to a poem from the April issue: “Roo’s Song” by Sevi Ann Stahl. This week, I turn my attention to another poem from the April issue—”Chocolate” by Autumn E. Weinreich—which, while substantially shorter, is no less brilliant than the former. The truth is that little can be said about “Chocolate” without detracting from the art itself—one simply has to read its four lines and let the absurdity wash over them like a mid-April rain. But I will say that in writing “Chocolate,” Autumn, just six years old, has perfectly encapsulated the creative and poetic potential of the youthful mind. Her poem reminds me of something my colleague, Conner Bassett, once said in a workshop on writing nonsense: “The purpose of art is not to make sense, but to excite the senses.” Conner’s words also ring true for Sage Millen’s photograph Colors. When viewing Colors, a logical mind might ask such questions as Why is the subject lying on newspapers? or Why are they upside-down? or Why is their hand on their face? or, perhaps most importantly, Why is their hand painted in colorful splotches? Of course, none of the questions surrounding these seemingly nonsensical elements matter for the simple reason that Sage has combined them to create art that, as Conner said, “excites the senses.” For this weekend project, I’d like you to try and eliminate all urges to make sense and instead wield the primeval, preternatural power of nonsense in the creation of art. Forget purpose. Forget logic. Create for the mere sake of creation! Bask in your freedom from the restraints of reason! Excite the senses! As always, if you like what you have made and would like to share it, please submit it to us via the pink button, below. Flying green ostriches, Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our April Flash Contest was based on Prompt #198 (provided by intern Sim Ling Thee), which challenged participants to write a story in which the protagonist failed at everything and ultimately didn’t succeed in the end. Unsurprisingly, this subverting prompt led to some the most inspired writing we’ve seen yet! Submissions ranged from a violin recital from the perspective of a snooty child to an unreliable narrator’s laundry list of past failures to an old woman’s battle with growing tomatoes. In one story, the unlikeable protagonist even smeared butter on their nemesis’ lawn! As always, thank you to all who submitted, and please submit again next month! Congratulations to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below. You can read the winning entries for this contest (and previous ones), here. Winners “Curses!” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “Beatrice” by Olivia Owens, 13 (Jacksonville, FL) “A Failing Success” by Emily Tang, 13 (Winterville, NC) “Cypress Woman” by Ellis Yang, 12 (Los Altos, CA) “You Win Some, You Lose Some” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) Honorable Mentions “Dangly Necklaces” by Victoria Gong, 10 (Scarsdale, NY) “Learning to Fly” by Marin Hamory, 10 (Wellesley, MA) “The Last Leaf” by Kimberly Hu, 9 (Lake Oswego, OR) “The Performance” by Elizabeth Sabaev, 11 (Forest Hills, NY) “Gray” by Alex Zigoneanu, 11 (Portland, OR) From Stone Soup April 2022 Chocolate By Autumn E. Weinreich, 6 (Wilmette, IL) Oh, I got a new snail. Wait! Wait! He is dead. To read more from the April issue, including another one of Autumn’s poems, click here! Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
Flash Contest #42, April 2022: Write a story where the character fails at everything—our winners and their work
Our April Flash Contest was based on Prompt #198 (provided by intern Sim Ling Thee), which challenged participants to write a story in which the protagonist failed at everything and ultimately didn’t succeed in the end. Unsurprisingly, this subverting prompt led to some the most inspired writing we’ve seen yet! Submissions ranged from a violin recital from the perspective of a snooty child to an unreliable narrator’s laundry list of past failures to an old woman’s battle with growing tomatoes. In one story, the unlikeable protagonist even smeared butter on their nemesis’ lawn! As always, thank you to all who submitted, and please submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “Curses!” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “Beatrice” by Olivia Owens, 13 (Jacksonville, FL) “A Failing Success” by Emily Tang, 13 (Winterville, NC) “Cypress Woman” by Ellis Yang, 12 (Los Altos, CA) “You Win Some, You Lose Some” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) Honorable Mentions “Dangly Necklaces” by Victoria Gong, 10 (Scarsdale, NY) “Learning to Fly” by Marin Hamory, 10 (Wellesley, MA) “The Last Leaf” by Kimberly Hu, 9 (Lake Oswego, OR) “The Performance” by Elizabeth Sabaev, 11 (Forest Hills, NY) “Gray” by Alex Zigoneanu, 11 (Portland, OR) Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) Curses! Lui Lung, 12 “’When people heard his name, breathed reverently in hushed tones, it was fear that swiftly rooted in their veins.’ Curses! That doesn’t make sense. No, how about… ‘It was fear that blasted through their minds in a paralyzing rush!’” In the shadowed city that had long since fallen asleep, in a small apartment building tucked on the very outskirts, all but a single light remained aglow. Seemingly the only soul awake at such late hours gave an approving nod at his own writing, fingers gliding rapidly across the keyboard without a noticeable sign of halting. “’Their hearts stampeded in a cacophonous rhythm, their thoughts stumbling over one another like dominoes sent tumbling with a mere flick of his finger. This city was a ticking time bomb, and I’—or he, sorry—’would be the one to detonate it into a booming eruption.’ Here comes the big ending, Murphy, the crescendo to the grand conclusion of the symphony! ‘And within the thundering outburst and from the rubble that remains, I am’—no, he is—’the last one standing!’” The villain pumped his fists high into the air, a triumphant man high off a victory. He glanced at his trusty sidekick, Murphy, who languidly stretched on the tabletop. “Well, my friend? What do you think? Does that strike fear in your heart?” The heavyset, orange tabby simply yawned, his little pink mouth falling wide open. “Oh, no, you definitely need to cut down on the tuna,” sputtered the villain, fanning the air before him at the ghastliness of the cat’s breath. As if he understood, Murphy lunged forward and clamped his jaw down firmly upon his owner’s forearm. The villain frantically shook his arm to free himself from his companion’s vengeful grip. “Ow! Curse you, feline demon! I will—” “So, this is what the great terror of the city does in his free time,” a voice mused coolly. The villain would have known who that voice was without having to turn around, but he decided that slowly spinning around in his chair would provide the dramatic effect he needed to hide the shock. Unfortunately, he leaned too far in one direction while attempting to spin and the chair promptly tilted over, leaving him in an uncoordinated heap on the floor. “Curses! My back!” The sound of Murphy hissing his discontent and then slowly lumbering off followed. Why, that traitorous ingrate! He straightened at once, lifting his chin with as much dignity he had left to muster from where he sprawled below. “Hah! This is all part of my plan, you buffoon!” It was not. The hero smiled indulgently, like she was only playing along to soothe his wounded pride. “Right. I’m sure getting exposed and captured was all part of your plan.” “You silly heroes these days. There is no prison I cannot escape,” said the villain pompously, although the sweat trickling down the back of his neck suggested otherwise. “Well, how did you find me? I wanted you to find me, though. Obviously!” “Obviously,” the hero agreed, her gaze flickering to the computer screen where he’d been starting a rough draft of his next magnificent work. “Just as obvious as you were when you were trying to hide. Really, who else would write and publish pages and pages of nonsense praising this city’s most notorious villain that no one reads?” The villain’s face flushed in indignation. “Nonsense? Nay, my blog oozes evil brilliance! And I’m a super-villain, for your information.” He paused, thinking of a clever, new strategy to fool his heroic rival. “I mean, forget that. It’s actually not my blog, because I’m not the man you’re looking for!” The hero looked entirely unconvinced, which was peculiar. The villain knew he was a spectacular liar! In desperation, he called for the assistance of his fearsome cat. “Murphy, my honorable companion! I’m sorry I said you had bad breath, just help me now!” A disdainful meow sounded from somewhere in the mess of old pizza boxes and unwashed laundry. “I will have my revenge on you,” vowed the villain darkly. “And you, too, you weak hero! Evil will always prevail over good!” The hero’s expression was now one of pity more than anything, and she gave his arm a gentle pat before securing the handcuffs in place on his wrists. “Alright, buddy, I’m sure the police will love to hear all about your plans for vengeance.” “Ah, yes, my plans! You’ll never know the plans I have for this city! Take me alive or take me dead, that brilliant secret will—” “You mean the top-secret plans that you posted on your blog?” “Curses!” Olivia Owens, 13 (Jacksonville, FL) Beatrice Olivia Owens,
