Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists

Saturday Newsletter: February 19, 2022

Out of the Window (iPhone 11) By Ohad Harosh, 8 (New York, NY), published in the February 2022 issue of Stone Soup A note from Laura Mired in February’s deep winter snow and cold, like many of you may also be, and stuck at home for much of the time during this current Covid surge, my awareness of a sense of place is at its peak! As our Editor, Emma, reminds us in her opening note of the profound influence of our surroundings on our experience in the world, I invite you to consider, as you read the February edition of Stone Soup, the role of setting as a literary device. Consider Ava Cai’s piece, “Honey Dipped in Celery,” in which we are provided with a thick description of a brief slice of time spent inside a classroom during silent reading period. I love the rich detail in which the author describes the classroom setting and the playful way in which she reveals herself through these surroundings. Like, I imagine, many of you, I can relate to the sense of captivity while willing a clock to tick during silent reading time, as well as the sweet feeling of freedom the moment your hand touches the doorknob to leave. Part of what illuminates these experiences and makes them so relatable, is the detailed description of setting the author provides: the dim light with the broken bulb flickering above, the tree beyond the window whose leaves blur together with distance, the clock hanging on the wall whose red arm ticks rhythmically while its black hands crawl ever so slowly, the stale, sterile smell of the bathroom. Now consider how the author utilizes all this rich detail to reveal something of themselves. What do we learn about the author through her experience in this particular setting? Through her description of a stagnant, quiet room, we learn that the author doesn’t like to sit still for long periods of time, that she craves movement, fresh air, stimulation. Setting, in this piece, is used as a literary device to reveal something we didn’t know, in this case, about the author herself. I invite you to pay particular attention to setting in your next piece of writing. See if you can manipulate your depiction of place to point to some kind of broader meaning, idea, or thematic element of your work. For example, what might a description of a home reveal about the family who has resided there for generations? How might the early morning sun, slowly creeping along the wooden floorboards of an empty kitchen, point to the excitement or restlessness of a main character? As always, if you’ve written something you’re proud of, please share it and submit it to us via Submittable! With warm winter wishes, Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our February Flash Contest was based on Prompt #190 (provided by intern Sage Millen), which asked that participants write a story about a character who falls into a bowl of tomato soup and into a magical land. The whimsical yet specific prompt served as the perfect vehicle of creativity for our participants as we received more submissions—43!—than we ever had before! While every story was naturally based upon the same premise, these stories could not have had more variety. Submissions ranged from an epistolary story addressing a corrupt king to the origin story for a pet rabbit to a story surrounding the subsequent events of the eerie, dystopian “Orange Day.” As we received a record number of submissions, we found it extra difficult to choose only ten stories worthy of mention, so we added a sixth story to our honorable mentions. As always, thank you to all who submitted, and please submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “The Magic of Tomato Soup” by Ananya Cronin, 9 (Fishers, IN) “Dear King Solanum” by Sophie Li, 11 (Palo Alto, CA) “Tomato Island” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 10 (Brooklyn, NY) “The King Who Fell into a Bowl of Tomato Soup” by David Yu, 11 (Hong Kong) “Ten Times” by Natalie Yue, 10 (San Carlos, CA) Honorable Mentions “It Started with the Tomatoes” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) To”Clara and Whiskers” by Elizabeth Sabaev, 11 (Forest Hills, NY) “Reality or Subconsciousness?” by Emily Tang, 12 (Winterville, NC) “Colors” by Liyue Sally Wang, 11 (Newton, MA) “Wish upon a Dream” by Eliya Wee, 11 (Menlo Park, CA) “Gone Tomatoes” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, NZ) Ava Cai, 12(San Jose, CA) From Stone Soup February 2022 Honey Dipped in Celery By Ava Cai, 12 (San Jose, CA) The quiet classroom was like a prison. The lights were dim, and a broken bulb flickered softly above me. I had never liked the dullness of this room, nor did I like the quietness of reading time. I sat in my assigned seat and flipped through a book about spaceships. The cover was slightly dented, and some of the pages were half torn. I managed to make out only the picture of the Apollo lunar module. I closed the book and placed it on my desk. I leaned back in my seat and let my head dangle off the tip of the blue plastic. I stretched, making all my muscles bunch up, then relax again. I let out a satisfied sigh and sat up, looking around the room. Everyone was still reading besides my teacher, who was swiping furiously at his phone. I shifted into a more comfortable position and began trying to count the leaves of a tree out the window. It was not too far away, but I could only make out the size and shape of it. It looked like a green cloud with two ears on top. I rocked impatiently in my chair, waiting for the teacher to signal that class had ended. I looked up at the clock and then leaned back in surprise. It was only 2:06!

Flash Contest #40, February 2022: Write a story about somebody who falls into a bowl of tomato soup and into a magical land—our winners and their work

Our February Flash Contest was based on Prompt #190 (provided by intern Sage Millen), which asked that participants write a story about a character who falls into a bowl of tomato soup and into a magical land. The whimsical yet specific prompt served as the perfect vehicle of creativity for our participants as we received more submissions—43!—than we ever had before! While every story was naturally based upon the same premise, these stories could not have had more variety. Submissions ranged from an epistolary story addressing a corrupt king to the origin story for a pet rabbit to a story surrounding the subsequent events of the eerie, dystopian “Orange Day.” As we received a record number of submissions, we found it extra difficult to choose only ten stories worthy of mention, so we added a sixth story to our honorable mentions. As always, thank you to all who submitted, and please submit again next month! In particular, we congratulate our Winners and our Honorable Mentions, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “The Magic of Tomato Soup” by Ananya Cronin, 9 (Fishers, IN) “Dear King Solanum” by Sophie Li, 11 (Palo Alto, CA) “Tomato Island” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 10 (Brooklyn, NY) “The King Who Fell into a Bowl of Tomato Soup” by David Yu, 11 (Hong Kong) “Ten Times” by Natalie Yue, 10 (San Carlos, CA) Honorable Mentions “It Started with the Tomatoes” by Lui Lung, 12 (Danville, CA) To”Clara and Whiskers” by Elizabeth Sabaev, 11 (Forest Hills, NY) “Reality or Subconsciousness?” by Emily Tang, 12 (Winterville, NC) “Colors” by Liyue Sally Wang, 11 (Newton, MA) “Wish upon a Dream” by Eliya Wee, 11 (Menlo Park, CA) “Gone Tomatoes” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, NZ) Ananya Cronin, 9 (Fishers, IN) The Magic of Tomato Soup Ananya Cronin, 9 “Brooklyn! Lunch is ready!” My brother, Mark, called from the bottom of the stairs. “Coming! I yelled in return. I shut my green science book and hastily arranged my other textbooks, novels, papers, pencils, and notebooks. I glanced at the tiny snow globe sitting patiently at the edge of my desk. Inside was a miniature model of my pup, Henry, with snow piled around him and wearing a bright red Christmas hat. I looked down at his loyal hazel eyes, knowing that this ruffled pile of caramel brown fur would follow me anywhere. I gently dusted the snow globe and tenderly positioned it beside my gleaming laptop. My brother called again. “Brooklyn! Hurry up!” “Okay, okay!” I replied. I stood up, then strolled out the door of my aqua blue bedroom, into the red hallway, down the wooden stairs, through the living room, and into the basil-colored kitchen. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, cabinets lined part of the wall, and steaming bowls of tomato soup sat on the brown table. The smell of sizzling tomatoes and basil filled my nostrils as I sat at the table, eager to devour my food. Within moments, all my siblings were at the table: Lilly, 8, Liam, 10, Mark, 12, and Will, 16. We silently stared at each other, communicating only with our eyes. We all began to devour our food at the exact same moment. The tomato soup tasted like summer in a bowl. A perfect balance of sweetness and creaminess. I dipped my spoon into the liquid substance and raised it to my lips. When I looked up, everyone appeared oddly entranced by their food. Then I heard it. “Tap, tap, tap.” It appeared to be coming from the laundry room. It grew louder and faster. “Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap–tap…” I glanced around, wondering if anyone else had heard the sound. But when I looked, Lilly, Liam, Mark, and Will were all gone. A sense of dread flooded over me. I instinctively reached down to grab Henry’s collar, but my hand met nothing but empty pockets of air. My heart began to thud as I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. I didn’t bother to wipe it away. I took a deep breath and looked down into my tomato soup just in time to witness the tip of my spoon disappear beneath the surface. I reached into the bowl of soup and attempted to retrieve my spoon. Instead of feeling the hard metal of the spoon or the smooth bottom of the ceramic bowl, all I felt was emptiness. I screamed. “AAAAHHHH!!” I tried to pull my hand out of the red creamy substance that strangely gripped it, but found that my hand just went deeper and deeper into the soup, pulling my arm and the rest of my body into the unknown.   I don’t know how much time had passed, but when I woke up, I found myself in a soft pile of grass. It tickled my feet, and I giggled, just the tiniest bit. But within a moment I remembered what had just happened. How did I get here? Where am I? Will I ever go back home? I got up hurriedly, feeling as stiff as a tin man in the rain. I used my arms to pull myself forward into a sitting position. I stood slowly. Something in my mind told me I should run. But the other part of my mind wanted to stay here forever in this curious, wonderful place to explore. I wasn’t sure which part of my mind to listen to, but I was certain of one thing: I was very hungry. My grumbling stomach reminded me that it was still lunchtime, and I needed more than just a couple of spoonfuls of tomato soup. I glanced around me, trying to get the lay of my surroundings. There were trees of all sorts, each with leaves of different shapes and colors.  Some trees had knots in their trunks that looked like faces and animals, while others had lights that seemed like stars for leaves, each a different color. There were no flowers nearby, just weeds and trees as far as I could see. The

All We Can Do Is Wait, Reviewed by Sita, 13

All We Can Do Is Wait by Richard Lawson is an incredibly moving story about life, death, and the gray area in between. It is set in Boston, Massachusetts, with the collapse of the Tobin Bridge bringing hundreds of people to Massachusetts General Hospital to hear news about their loved ones. Among them are five teens: Scott, Alexa, Jason, Morgan, and Skylar. Scott is waiting to hear about his girlfriend; Skylar worries for her older sister; Morgan hopes for news about her father; Jason and Alexa—siblings who are not close—try to comfort each other about the fate of their parents. As they all sit in the waiting room, their fear and agitation pushes the teens together, and they end up forming a surprisingly close bond, even though they have only known each other for a few hours.  The characters felt incredibly lifelike and relatable, and the author manages to make the reader empathize, if not sympathize, with even the most detestable characters. In a very short span of time, each character undergoes a change of heart, priorities, or of character. Jason and Alexa start to repair their fractured family; Scott tries to finally let go of the past; Skylar learns the importance of confidence and self-reliance; Morgan learns to accept change. In addition to its captivating characters, the prose in All We Can Do Is Wait is well written and does an excellent job of conveying emotions. Jason says he “still felt rooted in place…because he didn’t know what was left of his life inside.” Skylar “felt herself standing very much in the middle of it. Not the center of it, not the focus of all this chaos, but caught in its tightest, fastest winds, circling around her, whipping past and jostling her like turbulence.” On the surface, this book seems like many others: a saga highlighting the dystopian undertones in our society, simply following the trend of forcing character development with over-the-top disasters. But it is much more than that. Waiting rooms, where the entirety of All We Can Do Is Wait is set, are just what they sound like: rooms meant for waiting, settling in as we twiddle our thumbs until we are called in, or we get The News, or really, whatever gets the story started. They are rooms for the “Inbetween.” But in this book, waiting rooms are not the place where you wait for the story to start; they are a story in themselves, rooms full of soon-to-be widows or orphans, full of future history-book-worthy events. This novel explores the moments before death, the seconds before the grief sets in, the instances before someone’s world changes, and how knowing that you are in a room meant for exactly that can bring strangers together or extinguish the last remaining embers of a once-close relationship.   All We Can Do Is Wait by Richard Lawson. Razorbill, 2018. Buy the book here and help support Stone Soup in the process!