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“Norway’s Light” by Freyja Land, 10 (Brooklyn, NY) Published in the February 2021 issue of Stone Soup A note from Emma I teach poetry to undergraduates at the University of California-Santa Cruz, and many of the poems my students start out writing are a series of disconnected fragments—there’s no punctuation, and they maybe aren’t even written in full sentences. This is poetry! they seem to think. Anything goes! Well, yes and no. The form of the poem (how it uses grammar, lines, rhyme, and rhythm) should be connected to its content (what it’s about): ideally, the two form a symbiotic relationship (like the clownfish and the anemone!). This is another way of saying, formal choices shouldn’t be random. And often, my students’ choices about whether to punctuate or write in sentences feel random at first—the formal choices don’t complicate or deepen my reading of the poem. So, in class, we always end up discussing the role of the sentence in poetry. I’ll challenge them to write a poem from a single sentence or to try writing one in really long lines or sentences (you can find examples of both in Walt Whitman’s work).  I find we don’t get many poetry submissions for Stone Soup that use long lines or long sentences spread across many lines—so I was thrilled to read Amber Zhao’s incredible poems crafted from complex sentences. Her poem “Antarctic” opens: “The sea’s cold,” is all you write from Antarctica, “and we haven’t seen any penguins yet. Hope we do.” How to analyze that icy wilderness, with its harsh arc of grandiose majesty, luminous glaciers otherworldly in the setting sun? The Earth’s veins will be hidden deep beneath the icicle-crusted ground, my friend, and the surreal wonders of stepping onto land after many days at sea, a sensation to conquer. I was immediately taken in by Amber’s rich, descriptive language and expansive sentences that seem to capture the “grandiose majesty” of Antarctica. Observe how she spreads four sentences over seven lines of poetry. Amber is using a technique called “enjambment,” the practice of ending a line on an unfinished thought. An enjambed line is one that leaves you hanging, wondering, “Wait . . . what’s happening? Where’s the rest of this sentence?” “The sea’s cold,” is all you write from Antarctica, “and we haven’t . . . we haven’t what?! That’s enjambment! seen any penguins yet. Hope we do.” How to analyze . . . how to analyze what? That’s enjambment too.that icy wilderness, with its harsh arc of grandiose majesty, This isn’t the end of the sentence, but the thought still feels complete. The comma indicates a natural pause. This isn’t enjambed. luminous glaciers otherworldly in the setting sun? The Earth’s . . . the Earth’s what? It’s another enjambed line. Try to figure out for yourself whether the final three lines from the excerpt are enjambed or not. And then try to write a poem that uses long sentences and enjambment. Send your finished poems to Stone Soup! (Also, please scroll down to read more “Antarctic,” and you can find three more of Amber’s amazing poems in the February issue.) Until next week, There’s still time to submit to our Monthly Flash Contest! Here’s the prompt for this month’s contest: Take a character from one of your favorite books, TV shows, or movies, and pretend that they have a social media account. Write a few posts that they might share. Would they let their followers know what is going on in their lives? Or be secretive and vague in their posts? You can make it funny or serious, or a mixture of both! Feel free to keep it within the confines of the original story or make up new details. And you have until tomorrow, Sunday, Feb. 7, at noon PST to submit here. Highlights from the past week online Don’t miss the latest content from our Book Reviewers and Young Bloggers at Stonesoup.com! Read “Change,” a powerful poem by Kaya, 10, about the Black Lives Matter movement. She writes: “Let’s change direction and make correction. / Let’s make this our legacy—Unity in our community.” Another poem on the blog, this one by Aviva Rosenstock, titled “If Life Were Upside Down.” Aviva captures the disorienting feeling of everything changing. Speaking of poetry, we posted another Stone Soup author interview between intern Anya and Stone Soup poet Tatiana Rebecca Shrayer. They discuss the freedom of creative writing, even if it doesn’t “make sense.” From Stone Soup February 2021 Antarctic By Amber Zhao, 10 (Brisbane, Australia) “The sea’s cold,” is all you write from Antarctica, “and we haven’t seen any penguins yet. Hope we do.” How to analyze that icy wilderness, with its harsh arc of grandiose majesty, luminous glaciers otherworldly in the setting sun? The Earth’s veins will be hidden deep beneath the icicle-crusted ground, my friend, and the surreal wonders of stepping onto land after many days at sea, a sensation to conquer. I remember those waterfalls of ice, pluming into the distant rays of an underwater moon. Stinging chandeliers, jellyfish, pulsed deadly, deadly under a human touch, yet beguiling, a universal gravity drawing the fingers to the stingers. Translucent lives floated and flowered in a primal ripple-ring of wild nerves . . . /MORE   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.  

“Spring” by Sloka Ganne, 10 (Overland Park, KS) Published in Stone Soup January 2021 A note from Caleb Summer school news. Stone Soup and the Society for Young Inklings are teaming up again this summer. We are going to offer more classes than last year. Our goal is to have the program finalized within the next two or three weeks so you can begin registering. We have a couple surprises for you—but, no spoilers today! Hello Stone Soup family! You have not yet heard from me, so a little bit about myself: my name is Caleb Berg, and I am a fourth-year student at the University of California, Santa Cruz, where I study literature with a focus on creative writing. Fun fact: I started working for Stone Soup due in large part to the fact that William and I are neighbors! Working for Stone Soup, I have the privilege to not only read your incredible work but listen to it too, as I spend my time editing the writing workshops as well as the author interviews. As somebody who found writing late in life, the passion you have for writing at such young ages is an inspiration to me. Oftentimes, after listening to you read your work, I can’t help but start writing myself. It’s contagious! So, thank you, and know that by choosing the creative path, you are able to bring so much joy into the world. Truly, you give me more hope for the future. This week I wanted to spotlight two submissions in the January issue. Sloka Ganne’s piece, Spring, is a stunning, vibrant image of the moon shining through what I believe to be a cherry blossom. The painting is reminiscent of Tim Burton’s work, but the artist’s original touch transcends comparison. Gazing at this painting, it is easy to get lost in the allure of the shining moon and the mystery of the tree’s curling branches. While Sloka’s painting offers a brighter look at the moon, Alex Cole’s poem “The Moon” elicits something more dark and brooding. The poem is short and to the point, and yet it lingers. It reminds me of Bashō’s poem “In Kyoto . . . ”: In Kyoto, hearing the cuckoo, I long for Kyoto. I find that both poems offer up contradictions, and within these contradictions there is a haunting sense of longing. Both poems, along with Sloka’s painting, will stick with me for a while. My best to you all, Highlights from the past week online Don’t miss the latest content from our Book Reviewers and Young Bloggers at Stonesoup.com! Lydia wrote a post about how 2020 was an incredibly difficult year, but she saw some silver linings to it. Read her thoughts here. Trina, 8, wrote a poem about a duel between two bugs: the virus and the Learning Bug. Read some selections from our first Writing Workshop of 2021, where students wrote about chance. Alex Cole, 10Mansfield, TX From Stone Soup January 2021 The Moon By Alex Cole, 10 (Mansfield, TX) The moon, cold as ice Glows beautifully in the darkness Abandoned by all Read more work from this issue.   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.

“Little Mermaid” by Rebecca Wu, 9 (Medina, WA) A note from Sarah Did you catch Amanda Gorman’s powerful poem at the inauguration earlier this week? If not, I highly recommend you check it out here. Gorman is the first ever Youth Poet Laureate for the United States. And that’s not the only inaugural poem this week! Sofie Dardzinski, 10, wrote “Notes on our Nation,” which we published on our blog this week. Take a minute to read that one too, if you missed it. Though there is much that could be said about these two poems, I’m going to keep my analysis brief because I believe the words of these young poets speak for themselves. Thematically, these two poems cover similar territory. Both young poets wrestle with the inheritance of a divided, “unfinished” nation. Gorman presents us with visual metaphors, like a “never-ending shade” that has felt impossible to escape in recent years. In contrast, Sofie uses the language of music. “Dissonant chords and jagged notes” characterize the music that Americans have been playing, according to Sofie’s poem. And while both poets use expressive language to describe the “imperfect union” that is the United States, they also end on a hopeful note. I thought of both of these poems when I read Ronit Plank’s article in The Seattle Times about the hope she felt reading entries for the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards (which some of our contributors have gone on to win). These are difficult times to grow up in, but as Plank notes, young writers prove again and again how “Writing, creating and thinking of another path forward is its own kind of light in the darkness.” Or as Gorman puts it, “For there is always light, / if we’re only brave enough to see it / if we’re only brave enough to be it.” Until next week, Highlights from the past week online Don’t miss the latest content from our Book Reviewers and Young Bloggers at Stonesoup.com! Pragnya, 12, reviewed Hello, Universe by Erin Entrada Kelly. Read her review to find out why she found the book full of interesting characters and relatable situations. As we mentioned above, Sofie wrote a lovely inaugural poem, “Notes on our Nation.” Take a few minutes to read it and reflect on her words. We posted another Stone Soup author interview to the blog! This time Anya interviewed Enni Harlan. The two young writers talk about writing novels, researching for historical fiction, and so much more. Vivaan writes about the enduring appeal of Sherlock Holmes, and why the character and his “Theory of Deduction” is so fascinating. From Stone Soup January 2021 Sawterra By Rose Amer, 10 (Belmont, MA) Illustrated by Rebecca Wu, 9 (Medina, WA) Sawterra had a terrible name. She wished she had been called something beautiful, like Janis or Jasmine. But no. She had to be named Sawterra. Sawterra, I am sorry to say, looked exactly like her name. She had matted brown hair, muck-green eyes, and a sallow, drooping face. She had a height of nearly six feet, but was far wider than she was tall. She was flabby and sallow and drooping, and she wished more than anything to be beautiful. One day, as Sawterra was walking along, dragging her feet in the mud, she came across a stone gargoyle stuck deep in the ground. It was a tangle of scaly gray legs and arms and claws and tails, and its huge, gaping mouth looked wide enough to swallow a bowling ball. Sawterra took a great liking to it, as it looked so much like herself. “I feel sorry for that gargoyle,” she said aloud, though no one else was around. “I know what it feels like to be ugly.” And she pulled the gargoyle out of the ground and carried it home in her thick, floppy arms. . . . /MORE   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.