Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This activity is built around a story by 11-year-old Ted Nelson, “A Definition of Happiness,” published in Stone Soup in September/October 1985. Winning a medal in a sporting event requires physical strength. It also requires concentration. In “A Definition of Happiness,” Ted concentrates on winning. Win, win, win, he thinks with each stroke. While swimming, Ted also thinks of the “humiliation” of losing. Finally, Ted stops thinking, apparently loses an awareness of his body and where it is, and so he ends the race in a manner he hadn’t dreamed of. Read the story, consider the techniques that Ted has used to tell the story, and work on your project. Project: Write a Story About a Race Unlike Ted who thought only of winning (and his fear of losing), create a character who is aware of his or her body, of how it feels, of where it is going. Make your readers feel what it is like to be an athlete moving quickly. If you are not very athletic yourself, use your imagination. If you write about a swimming race, make us feel how your character pulls through the water, reaching, reaching, stretching arms, kicking legs, feeling the water rush by. If you write about a different sport, think about the specific movements the sportsperson is making, the feeling of the muscles as they run or jump or throw, the thoughts going through their mind. Maybe your character will win. Maybe your character won’t. That doesn’t matter, but give us a character who enjoys working hard, moving fast, having a specific focus, and being strong.
Writing Activity: writing a duet with “What Will Happen to These Woods” by Vanessa E. Beach, 11
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This is a story about an afternoon when two people go to the same place, the woods, and do different things—a girl plays while her father paints. They are together, but they are not working, doing, or thinking the same things. This is also a story about a place. It is the story of the woods, its history long ago when it was a farm, and its current history when many different types of people come to use it, some for the quiet pleasure of being outdoors, others to cut firewood, others to dump trash. Project: Two People Who Are Together but Doing Different Things The father paints and his daughter plays. Write a scene or a complete story in which two people are together but each person is doing or thinking something different. Think of several situations before you start writing. For example, on a car trip one back-seat passenger might be looking out the window watching the scenery and thinking while the other plays with toys. Or two people might be in a room, one watching television while the other writes a story. Both characters are “quiet” in the same place, neither is talking, and they are engaged in very different activities and are, for the moment, worlds apart. In opera, there are often duets in which two singers are singing at the same time, but each singing their own thoughts. When writing about two people who act independently of each other but share the same scene, you might borrow an idea from Vanessa Beach, author of “What Will Happen to These Woods?” From time-to-time Vanessa brings her characters together. The daughter makes contact with her father, either by talking to him or by looking at him and thinking about what he is doing. This occasional contact between the characters gives the story its overall structure and at the same time offers insights into the characters’ personalities. Note, for example, the interchange between the girl and her father over the spider. What will Happen to these Woods? By Vanessa E. Beach, 11, Jackson, New Jersey Illustrated by the author From the September/October 1985 issue of Stone Soup Today I’m going off with my father. His hobby is painting, and sometimes he hops in the car with all his tools and goes off to the middle of nowhere and paints. Today he offered to take me with him. As we were driving along in the car, on this old dirt road, we suddenly bounced up in the air. “Look!” my father exclaimed. “Somebody has been along here with a bulldozer and ripped all these trees out. Now it really looks horrendous!” Silently, I agreed. I usually enjoy going off in the woods because everything is serene and beautiful. Now, I thought to myself, nothing will ever be the same in these woods. The car stopped. I got out and walked along a path. Suddenly a huge, fallen-down tree loomed in front of me. It looked very old, since all the bark had fallen off, and it was very smooth and gray colored. Vines covered the end that was lying on the ground. “Hey, Stu,” I yelled (Stu is what we all call my father). “What?” “Are these leaves poison ivy?” “No.” “Good!” I said and climbed onto the tree. I walked all the way up to the top. On the way I noticed a pile of sawdust and brushed it away. Sitting on the top where the tree had been broken, I saw that the limbs had been sawed off. “Somebody’s been getting a lot of firewood,” my father observed, coming over to the tree. “Yep! Somebody built a fireplace, too,” I said, pointing to a circle of cinder blocks, with ashes in the middle. “Uh huh. Did you know there used to be a farm here?” “No.” “Well, there was. Kept horses, too. And that tree you’re sitting on was brought here by someone. It’s a sycamore, and they aren’t native to the woods around here.” “I nodded and he walked off with his sketching board under his arm. “What are you painting?” I shouted after him. “Grapevines.” He must be working on leaf patterns again, I thought. I slipped down off the sycamore and onto the ground beside the fireplace. I followed two tire tracks. A car or truck had been here recently, and the tires had pressed down the tall grass blades. I passed a place where, inside a grove of young trees, there was a heap of junk. I stopped and looked at it. It was ugly; old tin cans rusted, parts of a mattress scattered around, worn tires, old scraps of things people hadn’t wanted. Someone had actually come all the way out here to dump their trash? Actually going out of their way to ruin a once beautiful and clean spot? I walked on. Field daisies bloomed all around me, and bright yellow dandelions too. The fresh spring grasses parted before my feet. Soon the fire tracks ended, and a narrow path took their place. I passed my father, sitting in front of a mass of vines yelling at a bee who was distracting him. I looked around me again. The field daisies had disappeared, and tiny white flowers bloomed in their stead. Darker shades of grass rose up to my knees and swished as I walked. I began to run. The path divided, but I stayed on the one I’d been traveling on. Tall green milkweed plants stood there like soldiers guarding a queen’s courtyard. Leafy little bushes grew like dwarves in a helter-skelter manner. I stopped running. The path went on into a cluster of trees. Beyond them it seemed like there was a clearing, and I could see the tops of higher trees farther away. I wanted to go on but didn’t. Something held me back, or maybe I was afraid of what I might find ahead. I stood there for a minute, then turned
Writing Activity: using a natural process to structure a short short story with “The Fire” by Campe Goodman, 12
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This is a short short story about someone who lights a fire in a fireplace, watches it burn for a while, letting his imagination wander along with the flames, and then, bored, goes away from the fire to do something else. The character finally returns to the fireplace, but only after the fire is out. This story has a beginning (lighting the fire), middle (the fire is burning and the character is dreaming), and end (the character returns to the dead fire). Project: Describing What You See Think of things you have watched closely, such as fish in an aquarium, rain falling outside a window, traffic on a street, or clouds in the sky. Decide on something to write about. Then think of a character who, in your story, will see what you saw. Show us what that character sees and how that character responds to what he or she has seen. Remember, this character is not you and may act very differently from the way you act. Author Campe Goodman’s character in “The Fire” is not given a name and his physical features are not described. But writing fiction is like making magic: because Campe describes the fire so well, and because he shows us how his character does things—how he lights the fire, how he dreams for a while and then gets bored with it all—we get some idea of what this fictional person is like. Campe gives his story structure (a beginning, a middle, and end) partly by choosing to describe a process (burning paper and wood) that involves dramatic change. You can do the same if you choose to describe something like the sky as it turns dark at night, or a cloud as it forms, turning from wisps to a fantastic shape and then back into wisps. The Fire By Campe Goodman, 12, Norfolk Academy, Norfolk, Virginia From the September/October 1985 issue of Stone Soup The pile of logs and paper lay lifeless in the fireplace. I lit a match and wondered how this could produce my mind’s picture of a roaring, blazing fire. I pulled back the chain curtain and tossed the flickering match in. Soon flames shot up from the paper leaving an inky black trail wherever they wandered. The smaller pieces of wood began to glow, and gradually tongues of fire enveloped them. I could no longer distinguish between paper and wood, for the dancing fire blurred everything. Slowly the flames soared higher and higher as a red veil crept over the logs. Now the fire was a mountain range with jagged red peaks rising and falling. Twisted ghostly shapes could be seen weaving in and out among the flames. Little by little I lost interest in the shapes and walked away. I returned later to find the fire blackened, trying to find life in the few remaining embers. These gradually faded out, too, leaving me with only memories of the fire.
