An update from our fifty-second Writing Workshop A summary of the workshop held on Saturday November 6th, plus some of the output published below At this writing workshop, William went over the concept of art-languages, or languages made up by writers for their stories. Starting off with Lewis Carroll’s classic “Jaberwocky” poem, the class went over some of the words made up by the famous author. The class also looked at examples from James Joyce, watched several videos of people speaking Star Trek’s Klingon language, and read aloud some of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Elvish language from The Lord of the Rings. Lastly, the class read some examples from previous writing workshop of pieces that incorporated real languages and made-up languages The challenge: Focus on sound and invent words or parts of a language to fit within a story. The participants: Liam, Peri, Lena, Elbert, Ethan, Faiz, Kina, Samantha, Sierra, Elliott, Rachael, Aditi, Kate, Nami, Grace, Madeline Designing a Dress Peri Gordon, 11(Sherman Oaks, CA) Peri Gordon, 12 I paced around the room, inevitably stepping on the precious fabrics I had purchased. Heaps of quem wylven cloel clustered thickly around the heels of the esstappi shoes I was practicing wearing for the upcoming event. Making sense of this clupple snetthoy would not be a shtut ruttel. Knowing I only had a week to design the queen’s heraten gown, I let my voice burst out in waves of doyatere. My mother came running, the soup she was carrying dripping onto her moill shoyanine. She exclaimed, “Resh keru! Yiplash?” But I needed to be alone. After helping wipe the huitren off of her shoyanine, I slammed the door. I approached my sutrebenishien, which was laden with plashti. They glimmered in the sunlight that came through the potoshoo. I sorted through them. How would I choose my favorite? Finally, the idea came to me: Using the wylven cloel I had stepped on as a base for the dress, I would yertin in each sparkly fabric separately. I would be done in less than a week, and the result would be absolutely resenden. I took out my toz and got to work. Dictionary: Quem – (Of a fabric) Shiny and white Wylen – Woven with an elaborate pattern involving swirls Cloel – A thick fabric composed of grass, wool, and rose petals Esstapi – Overly fancy at the expense of one’s safety Clupple – Making one likely to trip and fall Snetthoy – A comedically disorganized room Shtut ruttel – Piece of cake Heraten – The coronation of a king or queen’s child Doyatere – Sincere distress Moill – A dull and murky shade of brown Shoyanine – A dress made with a fabric at least two centimeters thick Resh keru – Good heavens Yiplash – What is the matter Huitren – An edible plant often used in soup Sutrebenishien – Intricately carved desk Plashti – Sparkly fabrics Potoshoo – A triangular window Yertin – Sew in a braided pattern Resenden – Divinely beautiful Toz – A very sharp needle, reserved for the most intricate sewing Nami Gajcowski, 11Seattle, WA Filligri Nami Gajcowski, 11 Filligri is the name of the lillipads on the bright summer’s day. Mooran is the frog sitting on the Filligri. Swog is the flies that the frog is eating. Ligth is the word for the wings on the fly, letting it go aloft. Floof is the word for cloud that the wings brush. Allgen is the word for sky which the clouds clutch. Rrum is the airplane. Zram is it’s engine. Glockenrn is the mechanics to make that engine. Zendgle is their tools. Track is the name of houses built by those tools. Swindlgrog is the name of the tree in the front yard. Smissslfinddle is the name of a forest of those trees. Mrusgsgu is the name of the swamp next to that forest. And Filligri is the name of the lillipads in a bright summer’s day.
Writing Workshop
How Stories Work—Writing Workshop #21: Plot Vs. Narrative (Revisited)
An update from the twenty-first Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday November 13 To continue with students’ workshop requests, this week we revisited an older topic: plot vs. narrative. We began with four exercises to be revisited later, writing down the thing that scared us most, the first sentence of a novel, a list of unrelated things, and a time that we lied when we shouldn’t have. To begin lecture, we considered the fact that while all plots are narratives, not all narratives are plots. Following this, we distinguished narrative as a general term that encompasses all stories, and whose events are incidental as well as connected by the conjunction “and.” Plot, however, was how a story is told, meaning that events follow “and so,” leading to a deliberate beginning, middle and end. We then discussed the significance of plot, how it provides a narrative with inevitability, connectivity, and consequence through its ability to imbue every individual action with meaning. Then, at the end, we played a game of “is it plot, or is it narrative?” with examples such as “The Dinosaur” by Augusto Monterroso, Ernest Hemingway’s famous six word short story, “Small Child” by Stephen Tuttle, and “Dog and Me” by Lydia Davis. The Challenge: Transform any of the first four exercises you did (thing that scares you most, first sentence of a novel, list of unrelated things, a time you lied when you shouldn’t have” The Participants: Nova, Lina, Josh, Emma, Penelope, Clara, Ellie, Simran, Alice B., Svitra, Sinan, Olivia, Audrey
How Stories Work—Writing Workshop #20: What Is a Poem?
An update from our twentieth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday November 6, plus some of the output published below After receiving feedback about what students would like to focus on, this week we held workshop on the anatomy of a poem, asking ourselves “What exactly is a poem?”. To begin, Conner reinforced the importance of exciting the senses over making sense, defining a poem as something that prioritizes the mode of writing over the written content, that is more concerned with how it sounds than what it says, and whose language is sonic and aesthetic, not narrative. Over the course of the workshop, we read works such as “Pope John” by Bernadette Mayer, “The Snowman” by Wallace Stevens, “My hat” by Henry Parland, “Poem” by Ron Padgett, and, of course, “Mown Lawn” by Lydia Davis. We also briefly discussed Starry Night as a visual representation of the logic of poetry. The Challenge: Try and imitate the poem “Mown Lawn” by Lydia Davis. That is, take a phrase, any coupling of words, and do to it what Lydia Davis did to the phrase “mown lawn,” turning these words into new words via sound. The Participants: Emma, Penelope, Josh, Clara, Simran, Olivia, Shilla, Sinan, Alice, Audrey, Ellie, Ethan, Svitra, Lina, Nova Svitra Rajkumar, 13(Fremont, CA) The Earl Bear Svitra Rajkumar, 14 Just big enough to sit in your palm The Earl Bear whimpers It is warm, so warm that it is cold Pale and gray Or was it a rich amber? A shade that you know you’ve seen before But can’t seem to remember It smells of cedar and earl gray tea A mellow scent that races through the quarries Quarries that hold crippled carp Gorgeous fish full of imperfections Sparkling tails and glistening scales Prey to the Earl Bear and Predators to the Poppy Kelp Scarlet as fresh blood, the Poppy Kelp sways Under the current of the quarry. Ethan Zhang, 9 (Mclean, VA) The Armpit Monkey Ethan Zhang, 9 I owned an armpit monkey, For some reason I hated it. Maybe because it sounded like Harm-wit donkey. Everyone knows I hate harm. Harm-wit donkey sounds ominous, Even though harm-wit has no meaning. Also, an armpit monkey sounds like A chicken, literally. It shrieks mad, Shrieking the word yeet, Which sounds like yeast, Something that I also hate. Yeet also means throwing things, Something related to harm. I hate life. The armpit monkey ruined it.
