An update from our thirty-third Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Saturday February 13, plus some of the output published below This week we talked about larger than life characters, and the different tools writers use to portray them. The focus was on the first meeting with that character: how can you make it clear from the very beginning that this is a special, memorable, unusual character, and what the key elements are that make them this way? In a group discussion we shared ideas about larger-than-life characters and how we might use how they look, sound, walk, talk, laugh, dress, eat, smell–any aspect of appearance or presence or characteristic to convey a strong impression of who they are. The Writing Challenge: Write a passage in which you introduce a larger than life character, where the reader is encountering them for the very first time. You do not have to describe a bg personality in detail, but do focus on how the initial meeting with the character stakes their claim to importance. The Participants: Lina, Rachael, Sierra, Lindsay, Tegan, Samantha, Lucy K, Hera, Ava, Charlotte K, Eve, Anna, Grace, Simran, Olivia, Alice, Emma, Noa, Emi, Angela, Iago, Charlotte M, Yasmine, Olivia, Enni, Nova, Anya, Madeline N, Leo, Pranjoli, Helen, Madeline K, Margaret L, Sophie, Julia, Sage, Georgia, Ruhi, Syra, Lucy R, Peri, Kaidyn, Lindsay, Tilly, Maggie K, Lina K, Jonathan. Sierra E., 11Mountain View, CA Fox Girl Sierra E., 11 Few were (and still are) able to imagine the wild figure of Fox Girl. But if you saw her, you’d recognize her even if you’d never heard of such a thing. For Fox Girl lived in a faraway town, Ivywood, hundreds of thousands of miles from any large cities. Where she lived, the months of winter never came, and the incredible, unbelievable creatures roamed free. And here, in this world already beyond normal, lived Fox Girl, the one that many came to Ivywood to see. Fox Girl’s appearance was unreal. Stranger than the cyan wolves that managed to fly in the air with their magnificent wings, and stranger than the salmon-pink kittens that would spend their time leaping in and out of the many winding, flowing rivers. Fox Girl, for one, looked absolutely anything but human. While she had several details that resembled a person, most of Fox Girl was elsewhere. She had electrifying shamrock-green eyes that glowed especially in the darkness, while her vibrant amethyst-purple hair that stretched to her toes were unignorable. A bushy, apricot-colored tail tinged with white hung between her long legs and two ears, matching in appearance, stood always perked atop her head. Fox Girl dressed in lively hues which mirrored her animated personality. Fox Girl was one to watch. One to wait hours, days, months, years to see. Many say Ivywood is just a myth told to put young children asleep at night. But if you question me, I’ll always say the same: “No, Ivywood and Fox Girl aren’t a legend. It’s nothing but reality.” Lindsay Gao, 9Dublin, OH The Girl’s Revenge Lindsay Gao, 9 If anyone who hadn’t known better had seen the girl, they would have laughed, thinking “Ha! I could finish this girl off with a twitch of my hand.” But this, ultimately, would not be true. She was quite young, with long black hair that melted into the shadows, pale skin, and a frail, tattered white nightgown. But her eyes, white as snow, glowed with the utmost power. The only way possible to tell if she was angry or preparing to strike was to look at her right hand, where you could see her thumb, which, if provoked, would jerk back one, and then become still. After that signaling jerk, the shadows seemed to slowly crawl towards her victims. When they panicked, she would tell them it was alright, and that she wouldn’t hurt them. But she did. All their bodies were never found. When no one was watching, she might slip away, and you could see the pain, heartbreak, and longing. The feeling that people always assumed she didn’t have or feel. She would let out a sob, a mourning of losing what you loved and being turned into a monster. A monster that you weren’t. She knew people called her “the doll of death”, and she hated it. She wished that she could get away with everything, but then she would remember. The death. The blood. The screams. The tears. The pain. And it. The thing. And she knew, the beast, the one that had killed her family, and caused her sorrow would pay. It did not know that she was powerful, and now, it was too late, for she, the enchantress, the girl it had hurt so long ago, was coming. Peri Gordon, 11Sherman Oaks, CA Confusion Itself Peri Gordon, 11 It was Wednesday at 9am, I think, and I was sipping my coffee and walking to work when I saw her. Well, first I heard her shouting, and then I looked over, and then I saw the top of her purple stack of hair. I took the time to follow the fluffy pile down to the bottom, and I found a face died green with violet eyes and lips made to be the color of the ocean. Her eyes were wild and gleaming with both happy and sad tears, and her mouth was constantly moving as she ceaselessly talked about some problem that had befallen her. She was so out of place in the quiet atmosphere of this quiet little town that no one could ignore her. It was hard to look away from her face, but I had to see what this woman was wearing. My eyes are still angry at me for exposing them to such a bright, chaotic assortment of skirts and pants and shirts and dresses layered on top of one another, orange and green and blue and pink, spotted and striped and beaded and bejeweled. She wasn’t wearing
Workshops
Writing Workshop #32: Intro to Invented Words & Artlang
An update from our thirty-second Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Saturday February 6, plus some of the output published below This week we talked about language: non-English language. Participants shared the various languages they know, and we went on to explore some invented languages used in fiction, such as J.R.R Tolkein’s Elfin and Klingon, used in Star Trek. William played a number of readings, songs and film clips asking us to focus on how the sounds of the languages convey meaning, character and culture, even when we don’t know the words. The Writing Challenge: Focus on sound–invented words that just seem “right and/or the sound of an invented or foreign language that fits your fictional creation. Prose, poetry, or a song are all acceptable. – the base language for the story or poem is English – either allow made-up words into your story as part of its flow AND/OR – create a scene in which there is someone from a different world (fairy, talking tree, delirious person, monstrous giant etc.) who speaks 2-4 lines of dialogue OR 2-4 lines of a verse or song. The Participants: Ismini, Nova, Iago, Anya, Nami, Sophie, Charlotte K, Reese, Elbert, Lina, Leo, Lindsay, Lucy R, Julia A, Emma B, Kaidyn, Rachel L, Hera, Madeline K, Helen, Eva, Lena, Liam, Ava, Georgia, Pranjoli, Samantha L, Sierra, Simran, Madeline N, Sage, Sophia, Margaret, Elise, Margaret, Maggie, Olivia, Noa, Lucy K, Alice, Ann, Angela, Enni, Yasmine, Charlotte M, Tilly, Emi, Tegan, Sadie. Sierra E., 11Mountain View, CA The Calls of a Dolphin Sierra E., 11 Tall conifers swayed gently in the evening breeze, tilting toward the Pacific coast, as if craning their long necks toward the water’s edge. Children laughed gleefully as they sprinted across the smooth sand, wrapping up a day of adventure and excitement, all but one, who sat huddled in a jet-black jacket leaning against a rocky cliff. She heard her parents calling for her, but she paid no notice, instead staring blankly up at the sunset, painted lavender and a rosy pink. The waves lapped softly at the shoreline, several hundreds of feet from the young girl, who, through it all, remained perfectly hidden. Her parents became desperate, shouting louder and louder for their child to return. She stood, but not intending to return home. Not yet. As she had done for years now, she sprinted past the spires of rock that were positioned jaggedly along the ocean, some halfway submerged by salty seawater. The voices of her parents became drowned out with the harmonious wind and waves, blending together into a sort of song. “Come!” the child beckoned sweetly, finally sitting down where the beach grew thin and the ocean became immeasurable. The water spun upward into a spiral, causing the child to leap backward suddenly. A smile formed on her face when a sleek creature emerged. It was who she’d been waiting for. Her dolphin. The one she had met four years ago on that stormy winter night. The one that had visited her each time she came back to the beach. The one that greeted her with compassion and exhilaration. The dolphin chortled cheerily, keeping most of itself in the sea. It whistled seven times, repeatedly, speaking in a language most humans couldn’t make out. At first, the girl struggled to understand as always, then, pulling a chip of a shell from her pocket, she whispered, “I see. Your pod is running out of food? The fish and squids have disappeared?” The dolphin whistled once, as if to agree. “Don’t worry,” the child replied hopefully, somehow still understanding with the shell she had found so many years ago. The creature swam away, calling out its goodbye, leaving the girl, still remaining on the sand in the exact spot, in shock as she always was after a welcome from her friend. Lindsay Gao, 9Dublin, OH Untitled Lindsay Gao, 9 The cassie implewart crawled out of her nest. Her long bubber colored fur fell into her eyes as she leapt from tree to tree in a snookaloo manner. Finally, she came upon a small grove where three nymphs already stood, nibbling on bloated mushrooms. She growled at them, and they disappeared into the forest of maples and oaks. She grabbed an alkay sized nut, squealing in happiness as she realized a water nerry was inside. Unfortunately, her squeal was heard. A creature, brown as a Rhodesian Lakeside Brownie it stood there, staring at her. “Cop incub issle. Cokie aparr alooya? Tsuki?” She knew that had to mean something, but she couldn’t figure out what. She only spoke Mitzer Mouth, and thought maybe the creature spoke Logipo. Her mother had wanted her to speak that, but she had refused. She gave the creature the water nerry, though she didn’t want to. One water nerry could exchange for at least five cassie mushrooms. The creature smiled at her. She smiled back. She woke up. It had been twenty-five days since she gave the creature the water nerry. She looked out a tiggle in her nest, and saw something that made her heart leap into her throat. A small water nerry sat on the stump next to her nest, and a small clump of brown fur was caught there too. And now she heard a soft sound carried through the wind, “Maroo: Thank you.” Translations: Cassie implewart A creature. Bubber Color of the ocean with sunlight upon it. Snookaloo Sneaky but graceful. Alkay A bit larger than an almond. Water Nerry A mix between a nut and a berry. Rhodesian Lakeside Brownie A household spirit. “Cop incub issle. Cokie aparr alooya? Tsuki?” “I’m really hungry. Can we share some nuts? Please?” Mitzer mouth and Logipo Different types of languages. Cassie mushrooms Cassie implewart’s favorite type of mushroom. Tiggle Dot sized crack in the nest of a cassie implewart. Anya Geist, 14Worcester, MA Languages Anya Geist, 14 the words fall out of my mouth and spill through the air as I spout
Book Club Report: The Night Diary, by Veera Hiranandani
An update from our twenty-third Book Club meeting! At our first Book Club meeting of 2021, on January 30, the Stone Soup Book Club discussed The Night Diary, by Veera Hiranandani. The Night Diary tells the story of a half-Hindu, half-Muslim girl named Nisha during the separation of India and Pakistan, and is written through letters from Nisha to her mother, who died when Nisha was born. Our meeting consisted of over forty kids from across the US, Canada, and Europe, and we were very lucky to be joined for the first twenty minutes of Book Club by Veera Hiranandani, author of The Night Diary! We were able to ask her a variety of questions, from how she decided to be a writer, to the amount of research she had to do in order to write her book, to the impact of cooking and food in the story. She told us how she was inspired by her grandfather’s experiences in India, and how she herself feels that food can connect her to her culture. Thank you very much, Ms. Hiranandani, for joining us! After Ms. Hiranandani’s visit, we broke into small groups to discuss what we enjoyed about her visit, and then regrouped to have a conversation about the role of letters written by Nisha to her mother in the book. Overall, we agreed that the book was very good as an epistolary novel (that is, written through letters), and we talked about some of the challenges of writing that way, such as making sure the dates on the letters line up! Next, we went into four breakout rooms (led by myself, Laura, and two of our older participants, Maddy N. and Lucy) to talk overall about the book, including the characters, settings, and themes. We discussed the complexity of the characters, as well as how vivid some of the scenes were, and most of us agreed that before this book, we had not known much about the separation of India and Pakistan, and that The Night Diary had taught us a lot! Finally, we chose our next book, which is listed below. Our Next Book (to be discussed on February 27): The Thing About Jellyfish, Ali Benjamin
