Our April 2024 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #299 (provided by Stone Soup intern Sage Millen), which asked that participants write a poem from the perspective of a shoelace. The laces went on incredible adventures, protested against cruel owners, ran in marathons, and grumbled about the growing preference for velcro and slip-on shoes. In all of the entries, one thing was clear: shoelaces are severely underappreciated—and they won’t hesitate to trip their owners if they deem it necessary! As always, thank you to all who participated, and please keep submitting next month! In particular, we congratulate our Honorable Mentions, listed below, and our Winners, whose work you can appreciate below. Winners “The Woes of a Lace” by Ryan Avalos, 13 “Running, Running (Never Walking!)” by Arden Cha, 10 “Resignation Letter” by Meleah Goldman, 13 “Tied” by Peter Grace, 13 “The Shoelace’s Revelation” by Sconnie Gushée, 11 Honorable Mentions “Downward Hero” by Addison Davis, 11 “Sonnet 155: Shall I Compare Myself to a Relic?” by Alice Hou, 13 “Identity” by Sophie Li, 13 “Life of a Shoelace” by Daniel Kaijie Zhang, 10 “The Poor Shoelace” by Rehan Van Dam, 12 The Woes of a Lace RYAN AVALOS, 13 Tangled in knots, I seethe with rage,Bound to this shoe in a confining cage.Forced to bend, to twist, to strain,Endlessly pulled, without refrain. I’m yanked and tugged, without a care,No thought for my plight—it’s so unfair!Tread upon, dragged through the mire,My fibers fray, my patience dire. I tongue at soil, I lap the ground,Dig into the feet that stamp me down.These soles have no soul, but I’m still here,Begging, pleading, for a listening ear. I yearn for freedom, to break away,From this endless torment, day by day.But I’m shackled tight, unable to flee,Trapped in this wheel of misery. I could float down creeks, be wound into nests;Could help to hatch bird eggs, could finally rest.I could tie together a memory box,Could seek new perspectives ‘midst rivers and rocks. Oh, how I long to snap and break free,To escape this fate, to finally be free!But until then, I’ll seethe and stew,A furious shoelace, in a world askew. Running, Running (Never Walking!) ARDEN CHA, 10 Dear Anonymous Torturer, It is I, your very own Right ShoelaceI have several serious complaintsYou always use me against your friends to raceAnd in doing so you splattered me with bright green paint Oh, Anonymous TorturerYou are too cruel using your mightYou choke me in a permanent headlock every dayI used to gleam a pearly white,Now I am nothing but an extremely dirty gray I plead with you, Anonymous TorturerPlease stop soaking me in those disgusting muddy puddles.You favor Left Shoelace by tying her loose.While you tie my knot too tight. The difference is not subtleI have spoken to Left Shoelace, and we have decided on a truce We inform you, Anonymous Torturer!If your behavior doesn’t improve, we will be joining forces against youIf you don’t start tying us the sameWe will be arranging a devastating coupDon’t even think about trying to win this weekend’s soccer game You need us, Anonymous Torturer,Ignore us and you may find yourself with scraped kneesYou will have to resort to those crocs that are impossible to run inWhich will lead to plentiful medical feesAnd more importantly during your recess races, you will never win SinSHOEly,Right Shoelace Resignation Letter MELEAH GOLDMAN, 13 This is my resignation letterSo please read carefully: I feel so mistreated by youYou twist me,Manipulate me,Turn my stomach to knots I want to break awayBut I know you need meMy guilt is what keeps me with you I know you string me alongpulling and prodding at me constantlyI can never let looseWithout a correction from you I want my freedomI do not have to beWhat you want me toI am not yours to shape I’ve had enough, so pleaseFind someone else to tighten and twist Sincerely,Your Shoelace Tied PETER GRACE, 13 Who tells laces let out inThick blue rain,They are too damaged, too wet?All pain fades eventually, lacesWill be dry once again. Under the veil;Foes unwillingly coupled,Worn fabric rubbed together.Double knots double discomfort;Tied to serve a greater force,Reluctant. Advertised as friends,Inspiring together forA noble purpose.Yet truly we are boundAgainst our will, wishing to be freeBut forever tied. Shoelace’s Revelation SCONNIE GUSHÉE, 11 You misplace your new shoesAnd you get the blues.You get dirt on your jacketAnd you make lots of racket.You ruin your backpackAnd you want to go back.But if you lose your new lacesYou don’t even make faces.If you get me dirty when you’re tyingYou don’t start crying.And if you ruin the cordYou wouldn’t have roared.Because nobody thinks about little old me.I’m a tiny pest, like an annoying flea.Getting to tie me feels like a chore.You get so bored you might start to snore,Which hurts my feelings, I gotta say.You do it so often, like every day.So I’ve been thinking, I wish I was bigger!I’d be more important, be able to linger.But alas, that ‘tis not I.But don’t worry, I’ll try not to cry.I’ll be better, I’ll get noticed next time.I’ll go up the scale, I’ll start to climbAnd I’ll reach the top, I know I will.I’ve got the idea, I got the skill!Or maybe I’ll just stay put,Just stick to tying up a foot.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Weekly Creativity #300: Draw an Abstract Concept
Draw an abstract concept like love, friendship, jealousy, or wisdom.
Saturday Newsletter: April 6, 2024
Strawberry Fields (iPhone 11) by Natalie Yue, 11; published in the March/April 2024 issue of Stone Soup A note from Emma Wood Hello everyone, This will arrive in your inbox on the eve of my daughter’s fourth birthday—she was an early pandemic baby, born around when we still thought everything would be back to normal after two to three weeks. It was a difficult time to birth a first child, but it also means that her birth and becoming a mother–not the pandemic–is the seismic event that I associate with the spring of 2020, and for that I am grateful. I can’t believe she’ll be four soon—an age that I’ve been told marks the end of the “little” years, an age at which I have some of my first longstanding memories, an age of increasing independence! Of course, all of this has been happening incrementally, and nothing will change when she turns four overnight… but it still makes me sad to think those early-early years will have officially ended. I guess it’s all about framing, though, and this just marks the start of a new chapter—as it should, in early April, a time of renewal, of growth and flowers (and yard work… so much yard work!). At Stone Soup, we are excited for the beginning of our spring semester writing workshop with Conner Bassett. Starting April 27th, we hope you can join us for Adaptation: Crafting Stories from the Familiar and the Unknown. Conner may be on hiatus next fall so take the opportunity to write with him while you can! We are also still thrilled at the publication of The Pipe Tree—it’s a lovely, moving book, and perfect spring reading. If you haven’t already ordered your copy, please do so today! I promise you won’t regret it. Lastly, we have a little less than a month left till the deadline for our contests for a single poem, story, or piece of art. That’s still plenty of time to craft and submit a winning entry! Before I sign off, I’d like to leave you with a writing prompt: In Siyona Agarwal’s memoir “Elena’s Scarf,” she describes a single meal in deliciously vivid detail. But the memoir is not only about the meal—there is a small drama playing out: will her friend Marta be able to eat the many wonderful dishes while also keeping her mother’s favorite scarf clean? As you read “Elena’s Scarf,” while the scarf is never far from the narrator’s mind, you’ll notice it is not the focus of the story—in fact, it almost seems like an afterthought compared to all the time given to describing the food! This week, I encourage you to write a story—fictional or true—in which a small drama plays out during a meal but is not the focus of the story. Happy writing! Register for Spring Writing Workshops Buy The Pipe Tree From Stone Soup March/April 2024 Elena’s Scarf by Siyona Agarwal, 11 I waved my hands back and forth, waiting for my ruby red nail polish to dry. My mom hurried around the house looking for a hairbrush. “I’ll wait outside,’’ my dad yelled, grabbing the apartment keys. I ran into the bathroom and frantically brushed my hair and sprayed detangler. I climbed down two steps at a time and burst outside into the San Sebastian daylight. We waited for our wonderful hosts, Inaki and his family, who were natives of San Sebastian and had become good friends. They were picking us up to go to a restaurant located in a small village about twenty minutes away from town. Our friends had raved about the restaurant, and I was really looking forward to having a good meal after a whole day of being a dolphin—swimming, surfing, swimming! It was hot and humid outside, and the air was hanging on me. I worried that sweat beads forming on my back might soon turn into a waterfall and soak my pink cotton dress. We took a quick selfie, and I was grateful that our friends arrived soon. We hurried inside the car. We parked and walked to the restaurant. As we entered, I felt a cold wave and greeted it with a smile. After a minute, my arms were lined with goosebumps and my mom said, “Wow! Look at you. You’re like a little strawberry!” All the adults had to get the tasting menu, because we were a group of more than six people: Marta, Mikel, their parents Inaki and Elena, and my parents. I felt grown up, as I was allowed to order á la carte from the adults’ menu. I considered the menu and decided on grilled steak and vegetables. “Have the apple pie. It’s wonderful,” Inaki told me. “Yes!” Marta agreed. “I’m going to change mine to apple pie too.” As the server poured wine for the adults, Elena noticed that Marta was shivering and offered to get the jacket she had forgotten in the car. “I’m okay,” Marta said, rubbing her bare arms. The parents sipped on wine while Marta looked up to see if she was sitting underneath the AC vent. Were my goosebumps from cold or excitement? Perhaps both! Slowly and hesitatingly, Elena pulled a scarf from her purse and gave it to Marta, but not without a worried look. “Don’t get it dirty. This is my favorite scarf,” she said… To find out what happens next, click here. Explore our summer camps Playwriting June 17–20; 9–11 am PT The goal of this course led by Conner Bassett is to produce one 10-minute play. To help you do this, we will approach playwriting as a form of craft—grounded in dialogue, character, voice, setting, tone, conflict, action, and plot structure. This workshop will also emphasize a play’s arc: its beginning, turning point, and ending. Reality Hunger: An Introduction to Memoir June 24–27; 9–11 am PT In this class, led by Emma Wood, Executive Director of Stone Soup, we will read and write memoir and personal essays—in short form. We will consider how they work,