Introduction to this Stone Soup Art and Writing Activity Many of the stories we print in Stone Soup are both written and illustrated by the author. Many authors illustrate their own stories—especially authors of books for children. I am sure your library has books by authors like this: Maurice Sendak, Arnold Lobel, James Marshall, and M. B. Goffstein being just a few. In the original manuscript that was sent to us, “When Smudgie got Lost” had twenty-three illustrations and was made into a book. The original manuscript is a “picture book” with a picture on every page. In a picture book, there isn’t much of a story without the pictures. The story and the pictures are of equal importance and they are often created at the same time. Of course, unless you are ambidextrous and able to do two things at once, it’s difficult physically to write words and draw a picture at exactly the same time! To produce your picture book you will have to decide which one–drawing or writing–takes the lead, for you. Do you visualise your story in pictures or images first, and then add the words to help your audience understand what they are seeing, or to help them pick out particular elements in your picture that you want them to notice? Or do you have the outline of a story in words that you want your readers to be able to see in your picture rather than visualise for themselves using more words? Make a Picture Book Make a book where the pictures take the lead or the pictures and text are equal, where you can’t imagine one without the other. In a book of this kind there will probably be a picture on every page, and the text itself will be very short. In a picture book, one often finds that without the pictures, the written story doesn’t mean very much. It is in the pictures where a “picture book” comes alive. When Smudgie Got Lost! By Karine Faden, 10, Rockville, Maryland Illustrated by the author From the September/October 1986 issue of Stone Soup Erik and Ashley lived in England. They had a dog named Smudgie. Smudgie liked to go for walks to the marketplace where they had food, but even more Smudgie liked to go to the butcher and sit outside where all the good smells were. She came to the nursery every afternoon before tea for her daily walk with her leash in her mouth. Smudgie scratched at the door. Nanny said, “Smudgie, sit!” Smudgie sat. Then out came Erik and said, “Good girl.” Then Ashley came out and put on Smudgie’s leash. And then, out came Nanny, with the coats and mittens, hats and scarves, and said, “Button up, children.” Then Nanny put on Erik’s hat and buttoned up Ashley. “Come now,” said Nanny, motioning toward the door. Like soldiers they all marched out the door and down the stairs, Nanny first, then Erik, and then Ashley walking Smudgie. Finally, they were out on the street—Erik and Ashley and Smudgie, that is. Nanny was stuck in the door. But Smudgie tugged Nanny out while Erik and Ashley went inside the house the back way and pushed from the back. And then they marched out the door. Then we walked Smudgie to the market. Smudgie was very happy. Nanny had said that we were going to the butcher’s. That’s why Smudgie was happy. She always got a bone at the butcher’s. Smudgie did get her bone. Smudgie tugged at her leash very hard and Erik let go! In less than a minute Smudgie was out of sight. “Uh oh!” said Erik. “Whoops!” giggled Ashley. “This is not a laughing matter,” replied Nanny. They searched all over South London and didn’t find a trace of Smudgie. Finally, at seven o’clock P.M., way past tea, a bit past dinner, and almost bed time, they hadn’t found Smudgie. When they got to Markshire Square, Nanny said, “Let’s take a cab home. It might cheer us up.” But that depressed them even more. Smudgie had always followed any car that Erik or Ashley traveled in. By the time Nanny had brought the poor children home, they were all too tired to do anything but go to bed. While all this had been going on, Smudgie had gotten herself lost. Smudgie had seen a cat and she just had to chase her, but the minute she rounded the corner she had lost her. Smudgie had tried looking for Nanny and listening for Erik and Ashley’s call. But she hadn’t heard a thing, and right now was in a very bad neighborhood. And a mean dog had stolen her bone. About nine o’clock Father was driving home and he saw Smudgie in a side alley along the road. Then the two of them drove home. Erik, Ashley, Mother, and even Nanny were all happy to see Smudgie. And, of course, Father.
Teacher Resources
Writing and Art Activity: fully imagined fairy tales in words and pictures with “The Enchanted Egg” by Bertrand C. Jackson, 13
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing and Art Activity “The Enchanted Egg” is a delightful story that plays with ideas and characters commonly found in fairy tales (and in cartoons of fairy tales). This is not a profoundly original story, but it is well written, beautifully illustrated, and fun to read. As you read it you might even try to make a list of all the predictable elements you find. For instance, the toad is ugly (of course!), the owl is wise (of course!), and the third attempt to cure the town of rats succeeds (of course!). What is remarkable about “The Enchanted Egg” is how thoroughly imagined it is. What I mean by this is that Bertrand doesn’t just quickly jot down that there is an ugly toad nobody likes. Both in the writing and in the illustrations, he takes care to make us see the toad as an interesting character and not just a flat cartoon figure. Project: Write and Illustrate a Fairy Tale In its original form, Bertrand’s story has thirty-three illustrations! The text and the pictures were created to go together and make a picture book. I want you to do the same thing. You might start in the library reading fairy tales. Once you have those toads, kings, poor fishermen, mermaids, magic table-cloths, and other fairy tale images clearly in your mind, select a few to put together in your own way. Whatever your story turns out to be—funny, sad, a fight between good and evil, or a wandering adventure—do your best to make them come alive in both words and pictures. The Enchanted Egg By Bertrand C. Jackson, 13, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada Illustrated by the author From the March/April 1986 Issue of Stone Soup Once upon a time, many years ago, in a far-off land, there dwelt an ugly toad. His shriveled green skin was dotted with horrible warts. His eyes bulged from his wrinkled head, and his misshapen feet protruded awkwardly from his stout body. Because of his repulsive appearance, the poor toad was mocked by all the other animals—all except the wise old owl, who understood the toad’s kind nature and felt sorry for him. Life was beginning to be unbearable for the toad, although he tried to make the best of the ridicule and harassment. The owl often attempted to comfort him, but it was to no avail. The toad was intent on leaving his familiar forest to make his fortune in a large nearby city. Before he departed, the owl presented him with a magical egg and told him that it would aid him in time of need. He added that, as the egg was enchanted, it would follow the toad wherever he went and would assist him when called upon to do so. The toad was astonished at the strange spectacle of the egg floating in mid-air but listened carefully to the owl’s explicit instructions. The wise old owl then bade him goodbye. The toad gave one last glance at the owl and turned to start his journey. He trudged sadly toward the city with the egg floating faithfully in back. It so happened that this city was the capital of a vast kingdom. He missed his friend the owl very much, but the thought of the enchanted egg tagging quietly behind him helped to lighten his heart. He had never seen a city before and wondered what it would be like. The toad was not very agile, and therefore had much time to think. As he waddled along, a large dog came running toward him. It eyed the plump toad greedily and hoped to make a dinner of him. The toad saw the ravenous creature just in the nick of time. In a panic, the frightened toad bounded into a ditch by the edge of the road, and the egg followed. They both remained there until daybreak. When he awoke, it dawned on him, as he sat covered with mud staring at the suspended object above him, that he could have used it to repel the menace that he had encountered the previous day. It was too late now, and, as the dog was not to be seen, and as the sun was shining brightly, he recommenced his long journey. Suddenly, after many long hours of walking, he saw off in the distance the highest towers of the city. As the toad approached, he was spellbound at its massive size and splendor. He had been travelling for quite some time and was pleased to be there at last. Its imperious walls tapered upward as far as the little toad could see. It made him feel very insignificant indeed. At the wide stone gates two sentries stood at attention. Because of his small stature, the toad slipped through unnoticed. He was amazed at the unfamiliar sight which met him within. He marvelled at the huge castle which loomed up behind the small shops and half-timbered houses of the townspeople. He walked forward so as to obtain a better view of the odd structure which was not blocked by buildings and heads. As he advanced, he had to watch out for garbage which came flying down from the windows along the road and the large awkward feet of the clumsy people. He thought how absolutely dreadful it would be if he were squelched by some unobservant pedestrian and mashed in between cobblestones. He shuddered at the very idea. The toad turned about and gently grasped the egg. Holding it in his hand, he summoned its powers. The toad asked politely, just as the owl had commanded, to be lifted to the magnificent castle. All at once, he ascended into the air and glided forward in the direction of the palace. Along the way, he had a wonderful view of the entire city and the environs beyond. Soon the palace came into sight. Its highest turrets almost seemed to touch the clouds. Protruding from the front of the marble building was
Writing Activity: powerful expression through unique style, with “We Are Looking for Freedom” by Marigian Muhammed, 12
Introduction to This Stone Soup Writing Activity “We Are Looking for Freedom” was written by Marigian one-and-a half-years after she arrived in the United States. It is a true story about the recent history of her family. At the time Marigian wrote this story she was still learning English. We have printed it just as she wrote it, so you will find the English is not perfect. But after you read “We Are looking for Freedom,” I think you will agree with me that the style of writing is itself part of the story of Marigian’s life and the terrible problems war caused her family. Marigian’s story is an example of a work written in a style that tells us something about the main character, and which increases the power of the story. This technique of writing stories in an unusual or imperfect English in order to show the special way the main character sees and thinks about the world is one used by many of the most famous writers. Project: Adopting a Style Create a narrator (the person who tells the story) who thinks in and speaks in an unusual English. Think of a character—a child, a recent immigrant to the United States, a person who is sick in bed with a high fever and a bit woozy, or even someone who is a little crazy and talks funny. The fun of this project, and the challenge, is to adopt the language of your character, or to express your own language in a way that will convey meaning to your readers. Imagine you aren’t you, that you think and speak an English different from your own; or that you are trying to write from the perspective of a different you hidden inside your imagination. Who and what do you see? How do you describe it? And what is the story you have to tell? We Are Looking for Freedom By Marigian Muhammed, 12, Fort Collins, Colorado From the March/April 1986 issue of Stone Soup I live in Vietnam. I went to school in Saigon. I has one cat. I has four brother, no sister. My mother selling in her own store. My father was working for C.I.A. before 1975. After 1975 my father stop working for C.I.A. One night at eight o’clock in August 30, 1978, the Viet Cong come and caught my father to put in the jail. Because my father work for C.I.A. At 1979 my dad is dead. One night my mother put the clothes in the bag. I was ask my mother where are we go? My mom said, “I take your brother to visit your grandma.” I so small didn’t know my brother and my mom escape. I saw her sitting on the table with my aunt, and my mom was crying. I came next to her and she said, “You have to live with your aunt.” I don’t know why. My mom gone about a month and my aunt tell me, “Your mother escape.” At one time my cousin, my aunt, and me try to escape, but we can’t because they caught two of my cousin. And they let them out. One day after school, I went to my house. The Viet Cong came and tell me that they have to take my house, tell me to go live at my aunt house. I ask them why I have to live in my aunt house, they tell me that I under eighteen years old, that right now I have to live with my aunt. At April 7, 1982 I escape with my aunt and her daughter. When we went to Cambodia, we there for week. The half way to the camp my aunt and her daughter go another way, and I go another. We don’t see each other for week. I went to the camp name Nong Samet. I live there for three day and my aunt try got in there. We don’t see each other for ten day. I live with woman. She so nice to me. When I and aunt together in Nong Samet for one week we went to the camp name N.W. 82, which is half in Cambodia and half in Thailand. When we live there they don’t has anything much food. Every day they cook rice for us lunch and dinner. We has to cook our own food to eat with rice. Every day we only has eight liter of the water, every day in the hospital has people sick and almost dead. In our tent it so big we live with two hundred people in there. If the tent dirty the Thailand man call the tent people. They came out, stand there, another Thailand man get a stick to hit the Vietnamese, they don’t care about old people or young people. We live there for a year and we went to Pamatnikhom. Our family live there a week and we went to Philippines, we live in Philippines near the mountain. Every day I went to school there. We live there, we got a lot of water, every day they gave the food to us to cook and eat. We very happy. But I miss my grandparents and aunt. One day in Bataan, Philippines, has hurricane, some of the big tree was fall down, some of the ceiling was flying, we so scary, just for few minutes, then hurricane was gone. One day, our name was call to travel to America. On September 29, 1983 in the morning we drive the bus to Manila. We went to the airplane, we fly all the way to Los Angeles. We stay there for five hours and we fly all the way to Denver. And I see my mother and my brothers. Now we together.
