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Writing Activity: make the feeling of competitive sport come alive

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: personal integrity and family history with “Homemade Crop Duster” by Vivek Maru, 10

Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This story by Vivek Maru is a moral tale. It is about personal integrity and the “right” way to live. “Homemade Crop Duster” may be a “true life” story or it may be “made up.” Most probably, like many good stories, it is a mixture of both. Stories that have a moral often read more like lectures than works of fiction. “Homemade Crop Duster” works well as a story because Vivek doesn’t lecture. Vivek lets his characters show us how to act. We are not given a lecture about right and wrong. Project: Personal Integrity and Family History Vivek tells us that this is a story about Grandpa Maru, his father’s father. He says that sometimes, when he finds it difficult to follow his religion, he thinks of this story and it gives him strength. Talk to members of your family. Find out about a time when someone in your family (a brother or sister or parent or grandparent or even a great-grandparent) made a sacrifice for an important principle. I would proceed with this project this way: first, record the facts as if you were a reporter, getting down the who, what, when, where, and why of the story. Be sure to write down the principle that a family member was upholding. Second, take this reporter’s notebook entry and make it into the best story you can. The goal is to make your story feel like it is the truth and not read like a dry statement of facts like you might find in the newspaper. To transform your notes into an exciting story, you will have to let your imagination roam. Feel free to enlarge upon the facts, make up characters that didn’t exist, and add details and dialogue you weren’t told about to help make the story come alive. Homemade Crop Duster By Vivek Maru, 10, Huckleberry Hill Elementary, Brookfield, Connecticut Illustrated by Kerry Hanlon, 13, Brookfield, Connecticut From the November/December 1985 issue of Stone Soup In a country far away called India, long ago, there lived my father Hans, then eight years old. My father’s father, Grandpa Maru, was a farmer, and a good one. Grandpa was a very religious man, and that’s why my father is too. One of his many beliefs was nonviolence, and to be strict about it. This meant no fish, eggs, or meat to eat, and most of all, to never hurt or kill any human, animal, or even insect. So in the farm Grandpa never used bug spray or any other insect killer to preserve the crops. He only used natural ways. Since his family had a very small farm of only two acres, and three children to feed, Grandpa had the oldest son, my father, work on the farm also. They lived in a village, but the farm was on the outskirts of the village, about a twenty-minute walk. In India it was a tradition to have your farm a distance away from your home. My father would have to go early in the morning, accompanied by Grandpa, to work on the farm. Most of the time my father had very merry times at the farm, watching and learning about farming. He acted older than his age. I truly think he was dedicated to agriculture. His father was also very surprised and happy about the way his son could “do it right.” Life was going very well for my dad when he was eight. But one day just before the harvest time, a faint yell caught Grandpa’s ear. It said, “Grasshoppers! Grasshoppers! Lots of them coming this way!” At first Grandpa took it calmly, thinking it was just a youngster joking. But then his own son came running home from school saying, “Daddy, Daddy, come on! We have to save our crops! There’s a cloud of grasshoppers—you won’t believe it—and they’re heading straight for our farm!” Then Grandpa started worrying. “Oh, my gosh! Run to the farm! Wait! We shall not use bug spray. Get as many ropes as you can and start tying them together,” he told my father. “Yes, Daddy,” my father replied, unsure of the purpose of the ropes. By the time my father had started tying, Grandpa was off to the farm. It was a red hot afternoon and my dad didn’t have shoes! He finished tying and Grandpa spread the two-hundred-foot rope he had made across the field. Grandpa told my dad to take one end of the rope as he took the other. “O.K., I shall do as you say,” my father said, still not knowing the purpose of the rope. “All right, now run as fast as you can,” Grandpa told him. “I’ll beat you across the field,” quipped my father, now getting the idea. The rope dragged along the crops, swooping up the grasshoppers and shooing them away. At first my father sprinted and was ahead of Grandpa, but after many times, he got tired. He slowed his run to a fast jog. “I thought you said you could beat me,” challenged Grandpa. This stole my father’s honor so he speeded up to a pace that was fast, but that he could keep for a long while. For if he couldn’t move the rope fast enough it would not go under the grasshoppers and would not budge them. But after about forty-five minutes, like any boy his age would, my father got tired. Again he slowed down. This time Grandpa was desperate. “Come on, boy, run! We’ll never get those grasshoppers out,” scolded Grandpa. “I’m trying, Daddy, but I’m very tired,” replied my father. “Well, try harder!” Unfortunately this carried on for quite a while, but fortunately my father’s aunt had come to visit. This aunt was my father’s favorite. “What are you doing here, Bahen?” Grandpa asked her. In India, brother calls sister “Bahen” and sister calls brother “Bah.” “I was told I could find you here,” replied Dad’s aunt. “I’ve brought a

Writing Activity: exploring multi-layered meaning and limits with “The Captive” by Nicholaus Curby, 12

This writing project explores the idea of captivity in many forms helping young authors think about different ways characters might not be free to do as they like. Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity In this story by Nicholaus Curby, the eagle, locked in its cage, is obviously a captive. The eagle is a captive in the same way a person in prison is a captive. Most people, when they think of captivity, think first of this type of imprisonment—the kind where locked doors keep you in. But in life, and in Nicholaus’ story, being captive has more meanings than simply that of being locked in a small space. Sam, the man who owns the service station, is a captive of his selfishness. He can only think of himself and can’t think of the eagle and what is best for it. Will, who works for Sam, tries to see life from the eagle’s point of view and comes to the conclusion that the eagle should be freed. But Will is himself not really free to do what he thinks best for the eagle. You could think of him as captive of his position as a boy and employee. As a writer you will find that if you can show the ways your characters are held captive by their emotions, or by their role in life as parent, teacher, child, etc., your characters will come alive and seem more like real people. Project 1: Captive of an Emotion Sam seems like a nice man so you’d think he would feel in his heart that the eagle, once so strong, should be allowed to fly again. But during the first part of Nicholaus’ story Sam doesn’t seem able to spend any time thinking about what life might be like for the eagle in the cage. Why not? In my opinion the reason is this: Sam’s selfishness. Sam’s “likes” the eagle and that is why he keeps it. This selfish attitude makes Sam captive, keeping him from his better, more generous self. Using your own life and that of your family and friends as references, create a character or characters who are captives of their emotions and feelings. Create a character or characters who, because of how they feel—selfish, tired, lonely, happy, angry—can only see life from one perspective and thus can’t act exactly as they or  we might wish they would. Project 2: Captive of a Social Situation Sometimes we are prevented from doing what we want to do by doors that are locked—like in prison. But most often we are kept captive by less obvious means than locked doors. Create a character like Will. Will could easily have let the eagle go. All he had to do was open the cage. No one used physical force to keep him away from it. But Will wasn’t really free to do as he liked. As a boy, and as an employee of Sam’s, Will wasn’t free to let the eagle go. As you create your character, try to keep clear in your mind the limits imposed on your character by his or her position. The Captive By Nicholaus Curby, 12, Vallejo, California Illustrated By Justine Minnis, 11, Santa Cruz, California First published in the November/December 1985 issue of Stone Soup Will Turner scrambled down the mountain trail from his house to the valley. He couldn’t be late for his first real job! Although early morning mist half hid the valley, he could see the big sign that marked his destination: SAM’S SERVICE STATION: FASTFOOD AND FUEL Then Will saw something move outside the building. It looks like an animal inside a cage, Will thought, as he started to run. But investigating had to wait. Sam Dickson was standing at the station door. “Hello. I’m glad you’re here!” Will’s new employer tapped the walking cast on his left leg. “This broken ankle makes working hard. I can use your help.” The morning was busy. Pumping gas, wiping windshields, fetching soda pop, Will forgot the movement he had seen in the fog until eleven o’clock. Then he ran around the building. In a cage, a large eagle ruffled his bronze feathers and cocked his head as Will approached. Mr. Dickson hobbled up. “Isn’t he a beauty? Found him hurt, but he’s well now.” “First one I’ve ever seen,” Will said. “How’d you like to take over feeding him?” “Yes sir! But keeping an eagle, isn’t it against the law? Why don’t you let him go?” “Let him go!” Mr. Dickson echoed. “Why, I saved his life, besides, I like him.” Later, Will carried out a tray of meat scraps. He slid it into the cage. “Here, old fellow.” The eagle’s strong beak tore the meat scraps, and soon the tray was empty. Will stared uncomfortably as the bird pushed fiercely against the cage. “If you were free,” Will declared, “you could find your own dinner.” Will loved his new job. Only one thing bothered him—the eagle. Somehow it seemed wrong for such a splendid creature to be trapped. “I’ve been reading about wild birds,” Will said one afternoon when Mr. Dickson was resting his leg. “Did you know eagles keep the same nest year after year?” He glanced at his employer. “Bet your eagle’s thinking about his home right now.” “Nonsense,” Sam Dickson said sharply. “That bird has a good home right here.” “I guess so,” Will murmured, afraid to say any more. When Will arrived early the next morning, heavy clouds were gathering overhead. He knew they signaled a big storm. “Maybe you should go tomorrow to go for supplies,” he said to Mr. Dickson who was writing a list. “Nope, I always go on Tuesdays. Don’t worry, son. I’ll be fine.” Sam Dickson climbed awkwardly into his red pickup truck. “Remember to buy ketchup,” Will called as the truck pulled away. Before it disappeared, thunder sounded, and a downpour began. Only one customer appeared all morning. “Roads are bad,” the driver

Writing Activity: 4 projects to bring your (animal) characters to life

Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity These writing activities are built around the story “Lone Wolf,” published in the January/February 1985 issue of Stone Soup. What is exceptional about this story of a lost wolf cub is that the characters seem so real. Julie Frazier, the 14-year-old author of “Lone Wolf,” takes us far beyond a simple listing of events—Mike did this and Julie did that and then Lone Wolf did something else—into the inner thoughts, perceptions, and reactions of the characters. Mike, Julie, and Lone Wolf are real enough to become our friends. Read the story and then work on one or all of the projects. Project 1: Points of View At important moments in “Lone Wolf,” when the characters do not share the same perceptions about what is happening, such as when Mike and Julie first find the wolf pup, the author explains to us the different perceptions by showing us the identical scene from different viewpoints. In real life we say there are “two sides to every story.” Another way of saying this is that there are always two stories. As an author you can make situations seem very real (and show how individuals relate to each other) by telling the “same” story twice. Think about a situation in which your side of the story was very different from another person’s. Turn this situation into a short story, giving it a beginning, middle, and end. Explain the characters’ differing points of view by telling the important moments of the story twice, once through your eyes and a second time through the eyes of the other person. Project 2: Internal Dialogue In fiction, as in real life, there is nothing more boring than cardboard characters who reveal nothing about their inner life. One reason the characters in “Lone Wolf seem so real is that we are shown something about their personality. We learn what makes each character a unique and very special individual. For instance, while Julie is walking, holding Lone Wolf, we learn about her dreams, about her past, quite a lot about her relation to her husband, and something about why Lone Wolf comes to mean so much to her. While on the “outside” Julie isn’t doing much, just walking along a forest path, “inside” she is alive with thoughts and feelings. Make a list of times when you appeared to be doing nothing but were in fact thinking hard about something. Expand one of the times on your list into a story. Remember to describe where you were, what you appeared to be doing, and what was actually going on in your head. Project 3: Emotional Responses Another way the author of “Lone Wolf” brings her characters to life is by telling us how they respond to what they see. In “Lone Wolf we learn what Mike sees when he encounters the wolf mother for the first time. But the author, Julie Frazier, shows us more than just what Mike sees, she shows us how what Mike sees makes him feel. When writing stories remember that a camera can see but only living things can feel. Think of a time you went someplace and responded very strongly to what you saw — responded, for example, with happiness or sadness or confusion or curiosity. Describe this time in the form of a short story. Describe where you were, what you saw, and how what you saw made you feel. Project 4: Broader Applications Go back through stories you have already written and think of ways you can make your characters seem more like real people. When writing your next story at school or at home, keep in mind the goal of giving your characters the feelings and emotions of you and your friends.  

Writing Activity: writing sequels, and increasing contrast, with “A Ride With Fate” by Robert Katzman, 12

Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity “A Ride With Fate” is an emotionally powerful story about a boy who makes a couple of wrong decisions. The mistakes he makes lead to an accident in which he and someone he cares about are physically hurt, and an elderly man, a friend of Billy’s, is made very sad. Project 1: Write a Sequel I care about Billy, and I care about Mr. Reed. One reason I care about Billy is that he is not a “bad” boy. The mistakes he makes are errors of judgment and I think he will learn from his mistakes. And I like Mr. Reed because he is a kind man who understands that growing is a long, hard process. I think he is a wise, patient man, and a very good friend for Billy to have. I have spent some time wondering what Billy, his father, and Mr. Reed did and talked about in the days following the accident. You might also think about this and even write a sequel to the story. Project 2: Contrast the Beginning With the Ending One reason the concluding scene in “A Ride With Fate” is so effective is that the beginning of the story contrasts with the ending. Beginning with the second paragraph, notice that the world is like paradise—the land is beautiful, Mr. Reed is strong and healthy, Billy is happy, and the horse is handsome and powerful. After this initial paradise is established, most major scenes in the story hint (like Billy’s bad grade in school) that the good, perfect times are coming to an end. Slowly but surely the tone of the story changes. The perfection of the beginning gives way to the dramatic conclusion. Use this technique of contrast between beginning and ending in something you write. You will have to think of the ending to your story before you start writing. If your story will have a happy ending, make the beginning unhappy and troubled. Slowly ease the tension until you get to the happy ending. And if your story will end with strong, difficult emotions and consequences, make your beginning a time of calm happiness and carefully move your story toward the dramatic conclusion. A Ride with Fate By Robert Katzman, 12, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Illustrated by Heidi Hanson, 11, Florida, New York From the May/June 1985 issue of Stone Soup Billy woke up in a cold sweat. His pillow was wet. He got out of bed and hobbled to the window. His leg was still hurting him from the accident. Billy looked out the window and remembered. He remembered it well. Twelve-year-old Billy McCall lives down the road from Mr. David Reed. Mr. Reed is seventy-one; old, but healthy and strong. The ninety-nine acres that Mr. Reed owns was once a dairy farm but is now where he boards horses for their owners. Mr. Reed takes care of thirteen horses. His horse, Buck, is the strongest, and is the leader of them all. No wonder; Buck is a Tennessee Walker thoroughbred. Mr. Reed enjoys riding Buck. In the summer Mr. Reed would ride Buck almost every day. In winter when the grass is usually covered with a couple feet of snow, Mr. Reed would give the horses hay, but Buck would get hay and oats. Every week Buck was groomed, and once a month his hooves were cleaned. Billy was walking up to Mr. Reed’s farm to ask him if he could ride Buck. If he could, this would be the twelfth time. Billy could only go on weekends, so he had to finish all his homework before he went. Billy didn’t like to walk on the road. He didn’t like the paved roads, the cars, the electric fences or the TV antennas on every roof. Billy didn’t like any of these things. You could do without them, he thought. So instead, Billy walked through the field that joined Mr. Reed’s property with his. It was two o’clock Saturday afternoon, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Billy saw Mr. Reed as he was finishing painting the fence that led from the barnyard to the pasture. “Hi, Mr. Reed. Are you enjoying this summer weather we’re having?” “Yeah, I am, Billy. By six o’clock tonight this paint will be as dry as a horse’s throat without water. I guess you want to take Buck out, right, Billy?” “Yeah, I do. It’s a nice day, and I’ve got all my homework done, too.” “O.K. He’s in the first stable. I’m going to wash this brush and go inside. When you come back give Buck some corn. You know where it is.” “Don’t worry, Mr. Reed, I will.” Billy got Buck out of the first stable and tied him to the part of the fence that was already dry. Before Billy went to the saddle shed which was next to the first stable outside the barnyard, he stopped and looked at Buck. He saw his brown hair gleaming in the summer sun. He saw Buck’s broad chest, his strong muscular thighs, and his mane blowing free with the wind. Billy got the saddle and put it on him. The other horses in the barnyard talked to each other, probably about what they will do, and where they will go when Buck is ridden away, Billy thought. Billy fastened the girth under Buck’s stomach, adjusted the stirrups, and got on. He rode Buck down the lane and onto the road. Billy was always careful with Buck while riding along the narrow country highway, because he knew Buck was one of a kind. Billy rode Buck along the road for about a half hour and then decided to turn off of it. He rode through a field that was once a thriving dairy farm in the late eighteen hundreds. The land was rich and fertile. No one owned it now, but somebody was supposed to buy it in October. Billy led Buck down to the

Writing Activity: defining character with non-standard English, with “My Country and the Way to America”, by Huong Nguyen, 11 (a harrowing tale)

Map of Vietnam This is one of the most extraordinary stories Stone Soup has published in its long history. This activity focuses on how to effectively use non-standard English to define your character. “My Country and the Way to America” is a difficult story to read. It describes awful situations in which people die. The story is best read with an adult. If you are not familiar with the Vietnam War and the so-called “Boat People” who fled the country in the years following it, then please also read this introduction to that war before reading the story. Project: Using non-standard English to define your character. Huong had something to say. Despite the fact that she didn’t know English well at the time she wrote this story, she said what was burning in her heart with the words and grammatical skills in her possession. Huang’s story is written in what we call non-standard English. In other words, it is full of grammatical “errors.” But, in this case, the grammatical errors contribute to the effectiveness of the story. The language in which the story is written lacks many of the small connector words that we usually use when we speak or write English. The verb tenses are also not always correct. But, in this story, these “errors” focus our attention on the actions that are most important, giving the prose an incredible sense of rawness and urgency. “After three days or four days out the ocean, the boat have a hole and the water coming,” conveys the isolation and fear that overwhelms this boatload of people stuck in a sinking boat in the South China Sea more effectively than a perfectly written sentence would have. In the case of Huong’s story, her unusual way of writing English makes her story all the more memorable and, as a work of literature, all the more effective. This story was written in 1985. In 2017, as I write this, children and families are once again fleeing in small boats from wars and mistreatment. This time, these frightening, and often fatal, voyages are taking place in the Mediterranean Sea as people flee the wars of Afghanistan, Syria, South Sudan and trouble in other countries, such as Eritrea. Huong’s story brings the reality of the boat trip alive to us in a way that news articles do not. How can you use this idea of non-standard English? For most writers, it is in writing dialogue that non-standard English is most useful as a literary tool. I suggest two projects. In one, create a character whose English is almost normal, but has a few small quirks that makes it unique. Once you have mastered a character with a few eccentric turns of phrase, write a story in which the whole story is told through a character whose language, like that Huong, is different from normal. If you choose a very young child as your character, then that story might explore the difference between what the child can say and what the child can see and understand. To prepare for these projects, listen carefully to how people talk. Listen to people talking the way you listen to music. For teachers, you might refer to William Faulkner’s “Sound and the Fury ” for a sense of how an adult writer uses non-standard English for expressive intent.

Writing Activity: unexpected perspectives, or the other side of the story, with “Blending In” by Jonathan Rosenbaum, 10

Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity In “Blending In,” by Jonathan Rosenbaum, Charlie is at camp where he is teased by Carl and Jeremy, as well as by other campers. Like most stories about teasing, “Blending In” is told from the perspective of the boy or girl who is teased. But what about Carl, Jeremy, and the others? What are they thinking and feeling? In what way do they see Charlie as “different” and why does that make them want to tease him? Project: As a Challenge, Write a Story About Teasing From the Point of View of the Teasers Make your characters as interesting and complex as possible–more than just “good” and “bad” guys. Like a reporter, you can do research for your story. All of us (almost) tease people and most of us have experienced being teased, so you should be able to gather information for your story from many sources. Talk to your friends and family about teasing, and don’t forget to think about your own life and actions. Through your characters’ actions you might want to provide insights into such questions as: How do your characters identify someone who is fun to tease? Do your characters ever plan in advance what they do? Is teasing all fun for your characters or do they sometimes think about their actions afterwards and feel bad about what they have done? Blending In By Jonathan Rosenbaum, 10, Hillel Day School, Oak Park, Michigan Illustrated by the author From the March/April 1985 issue of Stone Soup Dear Mom and Dad, I am having the best time ever at overnight camp. The activities are fun, and the counselors and campers are really great. Don’t forget to write. Love ya! Love, Charlie P.S. Send some candy, please. Preferably licorice. I lay my Erasermate and letter down and plopped onto my cot. Although it wasn’t the big, comfortable bed I have back home, even it seemed good considering my weary condition. I had just returned from a morning softball game followed by clean-up duty in the mess hall so I was really feeling exhausted. I re-read my letter and sighed. Well, two out of three isn’t bad, I thought to myself. The activities at camp are fun: boating, swimming, sports, drama, field trips, arts and crafts. My counselors are great: David is very understanding and Bob is super at sports. But, the campers . . . Sighing again, I stood up and trudged across the rough wooden floor to the bunk bathroom. I looked at myself in the cracked, dirty mirror, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Why couldn’t I write the truth to my parents? I know that they would understand and help make everything all right. Because I love them, though, I didn’t want to break their hearts with my problems. After all, they paid for me to have a good, fun time at camp so how could I send them a letter saying that their dear son, Charlie, is an outsider and a jerk and has no friends. Sighing for the third time, I walked back to my cot and braced myself for the daily matinee performance of “Let’s Irk Charlie.” Sure enough, there was Carl, the “star” of the tragedy, sprawled across my bed, messing up my blankets, sleeping bag, and pillow. He even seemed to have added jumping on my bed to his role. I glared at him, feeling both angry and helpless. I was mad because I knew he was doing this on purpose, fully aware that having my things messed up bothered me. I felt helpless because I knew that if I told him to get off, he’d just call me a nerd and make life more miserable for me, and if I ignored him, my stuff would look like a tornado had hit it. Having no real choice, I reluctantly assumed my part in the unfolding drama. In a strained voice, I said, “Carl, would you please get off my bed?” Carl taunted, “But your bed is more comfortable than mine.” In a voice even more forced, I pleaded, “Come on, Carl! Really! I’m not being mean or anything, but just PLEASE get off my bed!” Again, Carl refused, so, on cue, the dialogue ended and the physical action began. I pulled at Carl, Carl fought back, I pulled again. Finally, only when my bed had become a total disaster, did Carl majestically get off. He looked at me with disgust and hatred in his eyes. “Jeez! Why are you in such a bad mood all the time?” With that, he grandly stamped off to the other guys who had been applauding throughout the entire scene. They all chatted together, totally ignoring me. Intermission lasted until bedtime when the evening performance of “Let’s Irk Charlie” began. This time, Jeremy, another cabinmate, was the star. Every night before Lights Out, Jeremy would bug me to let him read one of my comic books. In a never-ending attempt to be one of the guys, I would lend him one. Within minutes, Jeremy had either dripped toothpaste over the pages, “accidentally” dropped the book into the toilet, or crinkled it up to use as a pretend softball. When I finally got the comic back, it looked like it had been through World War III. I didn’t know who I hated more, Carl, Jeremy, and the guys, or myself. Why do they have to bother me all the time? Why do I have to get so uptight when they jump on my bed or mess up my things? Are they wrong for hurting me the way they do, or am I wrong for being the way I am? Sometimes I feel so disgusted and confused that I even wish that I could stop time, turn back the clock, and do the day over as a totally different person. When I once talked this over with my counselor, David, he suggested that I make a list of everything

Writing Activity: reward a likeable character, with “Doll Shop Magic” by Joanna Calogero, 13

Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity This writing activity is based on a story by 13-year-old Joanna Calogero published in Stone Soup Magazine’s September/October 1992 issue, and also included in the Stone Soup Book of Fantasy Stories anthology. Read the story, “Doll Shop Magic,” on our website here. Joanna’s story is a fairy tale, a story in which a supernatural force rescues a good person from a desperate situation. While it is a fairy tale, it is a modern fairy tale. The action takes place in a big city among people who all act and think like average modern people. In fact, while it is pretty clear that something very magical happens in this story to save the main character, Sam, from his landlord, Mr. Murphy, Sam is never sure what saves him. Maybe it was just luck. Maybe the girl and the doll were a dream. Sam, like most modern people, doesn’t believe in fairies. Notice how thoroughly Joanna develops the reality of Sam’s life and problem. His city has changed, his doll store is no longer in the part of town where people shop, and the new landlord, like the city itself, is no longer friendly or tolerant. The modern city doesn’t encourage romance and magic. And so, throughout this story, the question remains unanswered: Did more than just good luck enter Sam’s life? Project: Write a Story in Which a Likeable Person Is Rewarded Through Magic or Luck Your character does not have to be perfect, just likeable. But your character should be struggling against a mean or uncaring person. In traditional fairy tales the bad person is very bad: typical examples include an ogre, an evil stepmother, or an evil witch. In Joanna’s story, “Doll Shop Magic,” Mr. Murphy, the landlord, plays the role of the more traditional evil fairy tale character. But Mr. Murphy is not really bad, like a criminal or an ogre. He is bad the way the modern world is bad. He is insensitive, uncaring, and inflexible towards a fellow human being. In your story, show us how a kind person who desperately needs help finally gets it in an unexpected way. Whether the unexpected is clearly magical or whether it just seems a coincidence is up to you. Or, like Joanna, you can blur the edges between reality and fantasy so we never really know. Pay attention to the setting in which your story takes place so that no matter what happens you give the reader a sense that at least the place and the main character are real.

Writing Activity: make a fictional creature seem real, with “The Baron, the Unicorn, and the Boy” by Ogechi Cynthia Njoku, 12

Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity Ogechi’s story, The Baron, the Unicorn, and the Boy, is about an ordinary boy, Albert, and how he is rescued from the boredom of a school outing by a dream-like adventure in a fairy-tale past. Ogechi’s writing is clear and forceful. Like all good fairy tales, her story can be read as a pleasant tale. The familiar elements — the kind, bewitched king, the lovely unicorn, the powerful ruby, and the arrogant baron — are like familiar friends or favorite foods that make for a satisfying few minutes’ entertainment. Also, though, like all good fairy tales, Ogechi’s story can be read on a deeper level. Albert was lost in a museum. But at some point in most people’s lives they feel themselves to be lost and without purpose. At those times it is natural to dream of adventure and radical change. This is the spirit behind the fantasy of daydreams. Rarely, but it does happen, adventure reaches into our ordinary lives as it reached into Albert’s. By some amazing chance we win a game when usually we are a terrible athlete. Or there is a hurricane or some other natural disaster and suddenly there is lots to do and we do it. Albert woke up from his adventure to find a necklace around his neck. Others wake up to find a trophy on their bedroom shelf or read about themselves in the morning paper. Did I really do that? Most of us are like Albert. The adventure suddenly appears in our life and when it is over we have little more than a memory and a souvenir. Project: Write a Story in Which an Ordinary Person Is Suddenly Involved in an Adventure and/or Fiction Becomes Real Whether your adventure is grounded in reality, like a sporting event or a natural disaster, or whether it is a fantasy, like Ogechi’s story, try to create a believable world. Ogechi’s treatment of the unicorn provides a model for how to make a fictional creature seem real. Notice that, in addition to mere physical descriptions, Ogechi show us the unicorn as a living, thinking creature. She does this by showing us how the unicorn and Albert communicate with each other. When writing your story, always remember that if you can show how living things relate to each other, through words, gesture, or even by some mystical tie, your imaginary world will seem real. The Baron, the Unicorn, and the Boy By Ogechi Cynthia Njoku Illustrated by Andrew Ujifusa Albert gazed listlessly at everything before him. Statues and tombs stood around him, both of great and delicate antiquity. People shuffled noiselessly past him, admiring the artifacts set before them. As you can imagine, Albert was at the museum. This was one of the numerous outings he’d been obliged to take part in during the school year. Thus, he was spending hours in the detested place. “Can we leave now?” he asked. His voice hung in the heavy silence, and, receiving no answer, he looked up to find himself alone. Panicking, he ran to the exit,thinking that his class had perhaps gone or moved on to another interesting display, but, instead of facing the usual glass panels, he found himself facing an old door. It was so gray with dust and veiled with cobwebs that Albert could hardly see it. Curiosity, with a thread of fear accompanying it, forced him to open it. He stepped over the threshold. The room was covered with layers of dust with an open grime-covered window showing glimpses of a barren and desolate land. The room was empty except for a large figure at one corner. Albert shivered and took a few steps backward. Just then something stirred and some dust brushed off the figure’s face. Its eyes blinked open and stared at Albert. He turned with his heart in his throat, his sole intention to run out of the place, when the voice arrested him. “At last you are here. I have waited for a long time.” Albert turned slowly and stared at the man, for man he was! While he was busy brushing himself off, Albert diligently studied him. He was young with stalwart features. His face was kind but with a hint of sadness and suffering hovering around it. His clothes suggested long ago prosperity but were now in rags. His limpid eyes lifted to meet Albert’s and he smiled. “I am Raymond Fitzgerald,” he said. “I am a king but have not seen much of that aristocratic world. At an early age, I lost my father and mother in tragic circumstances, indeed, there was a lot of mystery surrounding their death. I was made king, and, as young as I was, I was made to do a number of duties. In one of them, I was visiting a nearby kingdom. I took with me enough sustenance to last a month, my unicorn, and the baron. I once trusted. My unicorn was envied in many kingdoms for its strength and spirit. My baron, as I found out later, also liked it, and, halfway through the journey, he attacked me. Taken by surprise and totally unarmed as I was, he easily defeated me. He took my unicorn and kept me captive here. Even then…,” he shrugged. “Without that unicorn I am nowhere. Luckily, the baron informed me of the unicorn’s whereabouts, thinking that I’d never be able to reach it. The unicorn is in a cage situated about three miles from here. Give him this flower.” He withdrew a crushed flower from the tattered folds of his cloak. “It will enable him to free himself from the cage. Beware of the baron for he is very sly. You may use no arms as only the ruby can kill the baron. Do you agree?” Silence followed in which Albert trembled. His instinct told him that to agree was to sign his death sentence. But maybe he was thinking of the long-ago sense