An update from the thirty-sixth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday May 7, plus some of the output published below This week, we continued with Italo Calvino’s Six Memos for the new Millennium. After focusing on “lightness” last week, we turned our focus to “multiplicity,” defined as the quality or state of being multiple or various. Naturally then, we discussed the epitome of multiplicity: collage poetry. To begin, we discussed the history of collage as an art form, noting its rise in popularity in the early 1920’s, especially among experimental painters of the cubist and dadaist movements. Some collage paintings we discussed were Picasso’s Guitar, Sheet Music, and Wine Glass, Hannah Höch’s paintings Fur Ein Fest Gemacht and Flight, John Stezaker’s Muse, and Jesse Treece’s Mountains Between (pictured above). We then broke into some definitions of collage, defining it as the art of choosing, affixing, juxtaposing, and arranging. This led us to discuss collage amongst writers, noting in particular the “cut-up” method of composition, wherein writers cut out words from newspapers, scriptures, magazines, etc. and put them in a hat before randomly selecting them to create a poem. Some examples of collage poetry we read were Ted Berrigan’s “The Sonnets,” an excerpt from T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland,” and an excerpt from Ezra Pound’s ‘The Cantos.” The Challenge: Make a poem with entirely found language: combine language (phrases, words, sentences) from multiple outside sources. Participants can use sentences around them from books, magazines, newspapers, street signs, conversations, other poems, etc. The Participants: Emma, Zar, Alice, Ellie, Samantha, Anna, Shiva, Nova, Lina, Fatehbir To watch the readings from this workshop, click here. Anna Cronin, 9 (Fishers, IN) Anonymous Child Anna Cronin, 9 Here is the revelation bright as the morning star The truth is: I know how intimidating it can be Creating your own, a vine and its branches The meal that’s special, the mothers example It’s all the same, sending them into his vineyard To some people, the reactions are new creations The goal in my first few years is pure: are we high functioning? Who is like them? They designed the central aim and the great theologians. What stereotypes drift in the wind, and what organizations of their character practice. While not all months are education, degrees in headquarters are anonymous like a good person. Multicolors, like a scene, are wild and beautiful. Self-concept is extreme humility, but why did the responsibility of the child matter? Additional scattering in our citizenship is healing, A vision for growth of the stones with power Some define brilliance in friendship and models, and for decades to come aromas pass. Finally, despite our emphasis, transitions will happen. And coaching includes our thoughts, not yours. Emma Hoff, 10(Bronx, NY) Core Collapse Supernova Emma Hoff, 10 Stars between about eight and 25 solar masses die in a core collapse supernova, a Major League baseball barrier has been broken, South Africa hit by rains, floods, news project launched. Get to know Arizona, the 48th state, look at an atlas or map of Wyoming, circle the capital city, this is a kakuro puzzle, 20. take a small drink. Last year I planted lots of daffodil bulbs in my garden, but only 65% of them actually grew into plants, are you ready for a challenge? Here’s a finished example: saving the cat’s pajamas, “The Outfit,” and “Deep Water. Wild pigs cause havoc, tributes to elephant, plan to help manatees shows promise, zoo animals go wild for scents. Blenny captures a quick meal, give bowling a try! New York/Motto: Excelsior.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Flash Contest #43, May 2022: Write a story where somebody betrays their best friend for a slice of slightly stale pizza—our winners and their work
Our May Flash Contest was based on Prompt #202 (provided by intern Sage Millen), which, like her last contest prompt from February, dealt with food in a remarkably whimsical way. This time the food was pizza rather than tomato soup, as participants were asked to write a story where somebody betrays their best friend for a slice of slightly stale pizza. Once again, the submissions matched the sheer creativity and ingenuity of the prompt as submissions ranged from a direct address story in verse to a story set in an interrogation room to a piece of historical fiction set during the Bay of Pigs Invasion. We were also so impressed with the work of Ellis Yang in their story “An Unsent Letter” that we decided to publish it separately on the blog at a future date. As always, we thank all who submitted, and encourage you to submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “The Stale Pizza Slice” by Suanne Li, 8 (San Jose, CA) “The Perils of Pizza” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) “The Triad Trials” by Emily Tang, 13 (Winterville, NC) “The Trash Pandas and the Pizza” by Michael Wilkinson, 12 (San Carlos, CA) “Would You Like a Slice?” by Joycelyn Zhang, 12 (San Diego, CA) Honorable Mentions “Hope” by Jeremy Lim, 9 (Portland, OR) “The Tale of the Raccoon” by Anushi Mittai, 10 (Beaverton, OR) “The Last Slice” by Arshia Ramesh, 12 (Overland Park, KS) “Kaleidoscope” by Cayleigh Sukhai, 12 (Swift Current, Saskatchewan, Canada) “Two Best Friends and a Slice of Pizza” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) For the Stone Soup blog “An Unsent Letter” by Ellis Yang, 12 (Los Altos, CA) Suanne Li, 8 (San Jose, CA) The Stale Pizza Slice Suanne Li, 8 Living in an unwanted and forgotten bag of chips in a landfill, Round Belly and I munch contentedly on a large pizza in a pillow-covered couch inside. We mice are best friends and our absolute favorite food is pizza, especially ones with pepperoni. My house is a perfect place to eat pizza because of its delightful combined smell of expired cheese and rotten potatoes. Chubby Cheeks, a rat, scurries to my snug house, waving his hands in the air, a sign that there is exciting news. “Beginning-of-autumn party! Tomorrow! All day long! Lots of apple pies, apples, pumpkin pies, pumpkins, pecan pies, and pecans! In my house!” Chubby Cheeks gasps, words gushing out of his mouth. His fur spikes up, and he runs in little circles rapidly, leaving clouds of dust behind him. “There will be a contest at the end of the party! Come to win the grand prize!” At night, I roll around in bed, unable to fall asleep. When I do, I dream about having a huge, huge pizza, enough to cover mountains, valleys and plains and to fill the oceans, rivers, lakes, ponds and springs. I wake up in the morning, and I mischievously shout in Round Belly’s ear, “PARTY!” “Ugh,” he mumbles, “be a good mouse and please just let me sleep for another 24 hours.” “NO! BEGINNING-OF-AUTUMN PARTY!” I loudly whisper, but he lets out another loud snore. I finally grab a pie from the fridge and hover it above his pink nose. “Party!” he shouts, immediately sitting up. As I place the pie back in the fridge, Round Belly excitedly runs in place, his legs a blur. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” We race to the party next door. Reaching the door first, I shout with joy. Round Belly catches up, panting with exhaustion. Entering the backyard, I spot brightly colored balloons attached to neon tables and vivid banners. “Time to eat!” I joyfully shout. After I am done chomping on a few hundred pies, Chubby Cheeks announces, “Contest begins for the grand surprise!” He throws open a velvet curtain in the back, revealing a miniature house with no windows snugly tucked in the corner of the backyard. “You will hear the rules once you are in the miniature house. One mouse or rat at a time, please!” I rush to the little house and climb up the steps. Chubby Cheeks unlocks the door. He happily gestures to a couch, then settles in a wooden rocking chair and grabs a stopwatch. Closing the door, he enthusiastically squeaks, “Name five different types of cheese! Whoever does it the fastest wins! Start… now!” “Swiss, mozzarella, cheddar, cream, colby jack!” I shout in a rush. “2.57 seconds! Well done!” Opening the door, he hollers, “Next! Round Belly!” Standing on a chair on top of a table, Chubby Cheeks announces, “the winner of the contest is… Round Belly, with 1.03 seconds! His prize is a stale slice of pepperoni pizza!” As the crowd cheers, claps, and applauds, Chubby Cheeks jumps down and hands the grand slice of stale pizza in a box to Round Belly. Filling with excitement, Round Belly bursts with joy. “Uh… can you hold the pizza for me?” Without waiting for my response, Round Belly pushes the box towards me and makes a straight beeline to the bathroom. Having the stale pizza right in front of my nose, I am already drooling. All my thoughts are directed right towards the pizza. Round Belly sprints back and plops on the couch. He closes his eyes, moves to the center of the couch, and gets ready to eat the pizza. He opens the box in a flash and only finds pebbles rolling out of the box. “Hey, where did my pizza go?” Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) The Perils of Pizza Lui Lung, 12 The dim glow of the single lit lamp outlined the grim lines of his face. His lips were pressed tightly together, his brows furrowed, and the only telltale sign of his true anxiety was the repetitive, rapid rhythm of his bouncing knee. Up and down, up and down. The jangling of keys parted the thickening
Writing Workshop #64: Imaginary Creatures
An update from our sixty-fourth Writing Workshop A summary of the workshop held on Saturday, May 7th, plus some of the output published below Long-time writing workshop student and Stone Soup contributor Peri Gordon presented the concept of imaginary characters. The history of imaginary creatures is a long one, beginning some 70,000 years ago with a gene mutation that allowed Homo sapiens to imagine things that were not there. That gene mutation is what enables us to write creatively! Students saw examples from the archaeological record, such as the Löwenmensch and the earliest known depiction of a ghost, and as a mini-writing challenge, described them in a way that made them come to life. Then, Peri presented examples from literature, such as Gollum in the Lord of the Rings, and showed how description of imaginary creatures is not merely limited to their often strange appearances, but can involve the way they move, eat, behave, speak, or even smell. The Challenge: Write a story, passage, or poem in which you introduce your own imaginary creature. You can use all kinds of description, such as how they look, how they move, how they speak, how they smell, and what feelings they evoke. The Participants: Aimee, Anya, Eva, Sally, Agatha, Eric, Pearl, Aditi, Amelia, Aryaman, Delight, Elbert, Iago, Liam, Madisen, Yueling To watch the readings from this workshop, click here. Pearl Coogan, 9 (Purcellville, VA) Saving Soar Pearl Coogan, 9 “When do we actually get to start flying the pegasi instead of just riding them like normal horses,” Chloe said boldly, putting her hand on her hips as I galloped around the arena on Clifftop, a short and stubborn mountain pegasus. Ms. Lilac, the teacher of the flying bootcamp, shot a dirty look at her, “You need to know how to gallop before actually flying. Actually, I didn’t want to ride normal pegasi. I wanted to ride Soar. Soar was a flying tiger with brilliant hazel eyes. Her ears seemed to pick up every sound and her nose seemed to smell every smell. Her teeth and claws were extremely sharp and could make a seasoned warrior with a shield and sword run for his life. Soar’s legs were long and she could run faster than a swift cheetah hunting a herd of speedy gazelles. Her striped fur was sleek and glossy, like a smooth river of lava with paths of obsidian crossing over it. Her tail trailed out behind her when she zoomed through the sky, even faster than how fast she ran on the ground. But Soar’s wings… Soar’s wings seemed like the most beautiful thing in the kingdom of Braylon. They seemed to spread out as wide as a river. The feathers on them were full and lush and it seemed as if none of them had ever fallen out. They blew backwards in the wind as Soar sped through the air, making the flying tiger fly even faster. They were even more beautiful than the wings of the— “Leia! Focus!” Ms. Lilac’s yelling voice cut into my thoughts like a sharp rock. I sighed. I would never get to ride Soar. She was kept in the Grand Stables in the Great Palace. She was fed the best food and never taken out to battle or even allowed to go off of the castle properties, even though Soar was built for battle. I had only seen her once when my family and I had visited the castle so that my father, who was a messenger, could drop off a message and we had been fortunate enough to see Soar. At least someday I’ll get to ride an actual field pegasus or river pegasus. Or a cloud pegasus, but they’re so rare that I’ll probably never get to ride one. Maybe I’ll even get to ride a unicorn someday, I thought as I jumped over a high hurdle. Mountain pegasi were known for not being able to fly nearly as fast as the three other kinds of pegasi, or unicorns, which were even faster than pegasi. Mountain pegasi were also known for being stubborn, and Clifftop was definitely stubborn. “Leia! Do a cloverleaf!” Ms. Lilac yelled. But when I tried to turn Clifftop to the left to do a cloverleaf, he yanked his head the other way. I tried to turn him a little more gently, but instead of galloping to the left he slowed down to a trot. When I clicked my tongue and moved the saddle back and forth to tell him to go faster, instead of galloping, Clifftop halted. “You can take a break,” Ms. Lilac said in a growly voice. Sighing with relief, I dismounted and led Clifftop to the side of the arena. I was in the Laurel Canopy School of Pegasus and Unicorn Riding, which was owned by a prince from the royal family. I was taking a four week overnight bootcamp, but even though I was on my third week, I was still just riding on the ground. But that night, I was planning to sneak out of my tiny dorm, find a pegasus, somehow teach myself how to get that pegasus to fly, and fly around the castle grounds. And maybe see Soar if I was lucky. It was a crazy idea, but I had been planning it for a week. I had told my two best friends, Kailee and Lydia, about my idea, and they had decided to join me. But little did I know about the thing that would happen that night. Carrying a heavy saddle and a bridle in my arms, I walked through the stable. I paused as a river pegasus stuck her brown, glossy, head out of a stall. She whined and pawed the ground. “This one looks good,” I walked towards the pegasus’s stall and read the name tag on the door, which read Wave. I fed Wave a carrot and opened her door. “Are you sure? She looks pretty big. And she’s a water pegasus,” Kailee
