The Virus By Annabelle Garner-Tamayo, 10 All of the viruses in the world gather together in one big, white and light blue lab. The viruses are green and red and orange. There are a lot of viruses there: the Spanish flu, the swine flu, the coronavirus and more. The viruses are all sitting in the lab and deciding what to do next. Majority votes always wins, so they all decide that each one will attack the world at a different time. They want to destroy the world. The Coronavirus chose the end of 2019. It seemed like the perfect time. The coronavirus is a big one, too. Things are getting bad! This virus could kill people. Our world can’t fight this one alone, its too weak because it’s just a baby to the viruses. We have to save our world! We can save it by: 1- no littering; 2-saving toilet paper;… … and 3- the biggest of all, coming up with a cure! If we can do these things… …the world will be saved. So, we try, but some people don’t listen and take all of the toilet paper! Those people are known as the “corona crazies”. The government gave us a scare. They have us all meet up. They bring a microphone and they tell us: “If we don’t stop, we will all die and our world will die”. So everyone stopped and the virus stopped and we all lived happily ever after. THE END. Annabelle Garner-Tamayo, 10 Omaha, NE
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Saturday Newsletter: May 2, 2020
JellyfishBy Heloise Matumoto, 13 (Quebec, Canada), iPhone SE photograph, the cover image from Stone Soup, May 2020 A note from William First, the news and some updates I would like to thank all of you who have recently subscribed. Sales are up for the month. Thank you! It is probably best to think of Stone Soup as a micro-business. We do not have a single full-time staff member. We have done our best to rise to the current occasion with Daily Creativity writing prompts, the Weekly Flash Contest, the Wednesday Book Club, and the Friday Writing Workshop—there is a special newsletter section reminding you of all our new COVID-19 resources below, as well as a daily email signup link. The best way you can support us is to subscribe, and share the news of Stone Soup’s resources with your friends around the world. Month-by-month digital subscriptions start at $4.99, and month-by-month print and digital subscriptions start at $7.99. Thank you again. The Book Club held its second meeting this last Wednesday and doubled in size to 20 students. Laura Moran, who runs the group, invited Nicole Helget, author of our first chosen book, The End of the Wild, to participate in the session. She was so inspiring! Thank you, Nicole! The Writing Workshop has 23 participants. Last Friday, they asked that the workshop last longer! So this week, it ran for an hour and 20 minutes. You can read about the workshops and some of the work produced during them via the web links below. I want to remind all of you that our second annual Book Contest is running (see below for details). We have had requests from students who have started and who are thinking of starting manuscripts for a special workshop, to help them make this leap to longer-form writing. I will run a preliminary workshop for people interested in this on Saturday, May 2, at 1 p.m. PDT. Email us here with the subject line “Long Form Book Contest Writing Workshop” if you would like to join, and we will then send you a Zoom link for the workshop. I will hold the workshop even if only one of you responds. What do you have planned for summer? My daughter’s school has five more weeks to run. Then, summer vacation starts. An odd idea, a vacation at home following what for many of you will already have been over two months at home. A double “vacation” this year. We are thinking of programs we can offer to help fill the summer with creativity, and we would like to know what you think about our ideas for Summer Camps and Summer Workshops. Please respond to our questionnaire and tell us! We have been able to offer our Book Club and Writing Workshop over the past month because, to be honest, we are doing it ourselves and we are not all being paid. We will have to hire writers and artists to run summer programs, so there will have to be a charge. Please fill out the questionnaire. It includes questions about what you wold be willing to pay. Please be honest. We will be using what you say in the questionnaire to develop the program. Thank you. William’s Weekend Activity The May issue is out! I received mine on Wednesday. The cover photograph by Heloise Matumoto (13) of jellyfish is striking, and any of you who have seen jellyfish in aquariums will appreciate its beauty. The central jellyfish is poised in the water. Going up? Going down? I personally have very traumatic memories of repeated jellyfish stings from the summer of 1960, in Annapolis, Maryland. I was eight years old. Jellyfish were everywhere at the beach! It was truly awful. Tentacles lay on the sand. My feet were in agony. And, in fact, even though I have never lived further than two kilometers from the Pacific Ocean since the age of 11, I have not been into the ocean since! I want you to look at the May cover image and think about a photograph you could make of something that, like the jellyfish, seems to float, perfectly balanced, between up and down. I know that you are probably not able to just leave your house with your parents and go exploring for this situation, this image to photograph. So. I am not saying it will be easy. But, around your house, or where you are permitted to go during this pandemic, find an image that has the kind of balance and grace we find in the cover image. I am writing this at night. Right outside the window, to my right, there is a jar hanging from a tree—like the kind we use for canning—that is filled with a string of small lights powered by a solar charger in the lid. The lights are twinkling about 12 feet (four meters) from me. I can’t see the tree’s branches. The light seems to float in the night, as the jellyfish floats in the cover photograph. Think about lights, reflections, mirrors, shadows, clouds, and . . . Also this month, I’d like to call your attention to our Honor Roll. Every issue includes the mention of authors working in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, and artists who have sent us their work for consideration. It is often not an easy choice for our editor, Emma Wood, to decide which works to include in the magazine. The Honor Roll is a commendation by Emma for work well done, and we celebrate all of you who make your work and send it to us. We and all your readers appreciate you! Until next week, Weekly Flash Contest #4: Winners The week of April 20 (Daily Creativity prompt #21) was our fourth Flash Contest, and our food theme really got everyone’s creative juices flowing! You obviously had fun finding your food objects and thinking of creative ways to write about them. We enjoyed reading each and every one of the entries, and it was just as difficult as ever to choose our top five this week—so
Flash Contest #4: Poems About Found Objects in the Kitchen: Our Winners and Their Work!
Weekly Flash Contest #4: Write a Poem About a Found Object in your Kitchen Go into the kitchen. Stand in front of a cupboard with food in it (or the fridge). Close your eyes, open the door (or better still, have someone else open it for you), stretch out your hand, and touch something. Keep your hand where it is. Open your eyes. Look at the thing you are touching. Congratulations! You just found the object that you are going to write a poem about. Every week during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements we are running a Flash Contest, based on the first Daily Creativity prompt of the week. The prompt is posted on Monday, and entries are due by Friday. The week commencing April 20th (Daily Creativity prompt #21) was our fourth week, and our food theme really got everyone’s creative juices flowing! You obviously had fun finding your food objects, and thinking of creative ways to write about them. We enjoyed reading each and every one of the entries, and it was just as difficult as ever to choose our top 5 this week–so difficult, in fact, that we chose 7, and we added some Honorable Mentions again. Congratulations, everyone! Winners (work published on this page) Eliana Aschheim, 13, Santa Clara, CA Iris Fink, 8, Beloit, WI Enni Harlan, 13, Los Angeles, CA Julia Marcus, 13, Culver City, CA Ava Shorten, 10, Mallow, Ireland Adele Stamenov, 10, Bethel Park, PA Emerson Swift, 12, Mill Valley, CA Honorable Mentions “My Journey” by Alexander Frey, 9, Herndon, VA “A Kid’s Gotta Eat” by Liam Hancock, 12, Danville, CA We also received another drawing from Allie Dollar, 11, of Monticello, FL, that provides the perfect illustration for this week’s contest post. Thank you, Allie! Remember, we are running the Flash Contest every week during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements. It is always based on the first Daily Creativity prompt of the week. The prompt is posted on Monday, entries are due by Friday, and the winners are chosen and announced the following week. Jelly By Eliana Aschheim, 13 I can only watch Him sitting there with Her Peanut Butter and Apricot Preserves His arm wrapped around Her shoulder So pleased, so charmed To be together We were an item The two of us We loved each other dearly PB and J We were adored All the good magazines raved about our perfection Kids everywhere rejoiced when they saw us Peanut Butter and Jelly Until A new movement swept in Like a scheming hurricane It rattled through my life Igniting, spreading viciously, Gaining followers, making its way to Even our most devout supporters “Health” Was the cause “Low sugar” and “All-Natural” Were the rallying cries Taken up by supermarkets everywhere I watched As this new Apricot Preserves Dared to enter our sacred home Of Peanut Butter and Jelly Alas! Her cunning ways! Even Peanut Butter, My faithful companion Was taken with her I watched As I slowly was pushed to a corner Of the fridge From disuse And Peanut Butter He took her arm instead of mine With only a regretful glance at me My eyes were on him the whole time Here I watch From this desolate corner, Among the moldy Sour Cream And a rotting, half-eaten Apple Forgotten But the thing is, Sour Cream and Jelly Does not make a good sandwich Even the bread agreed It’s just not a good combination I’m an outcast, now, in this fridge Once I stood proudly in the front Now I slump, saddened, in the back On the same level As Sour Cream And a rotting Apple And I watch Peanut Butter with that Apricot Preserves Animal Crackers By Iris Fink, 8 Animals in cracker form, a truly delicious food. If you add banana, it will brighten your mood. But don’t you ever feel that biting their heads off is rude? An Onion Enni Harlan, 13 I peel an onion, layer by layer, Watching it shrink slowly. Onions are a bit like people; You have to work hard To see what is truly inside, Deep, deep, down at the core. Tossing aside the flaky yellow peels, I stare forlornly at the perfect sphere. It looks plain, yet lovely, Simple yet elegant, This onion whose inner beauty I have yet to find. My dark eyes drill into the onion, which seems to stare back at me, blankly. With one hand, I grasp the ebony handle of a razor sharp knife. I clutch the smooth surface of the onion in the other hand, preparing to make My blow. My knife digs into the flesh of the onion. Juice squirts out, and tears spring to my eyes. I wipe them hurriedly, But they refuse to stop. Blinded by my watering eyes, I continue to cut Somewhat aimlessly. The onion, now sliced, Lays before me in a pot Darker than night. The flame is ignited, and the onions begin to sizzle. Its sharp, distinct smell transforms sweet As the stove works its wonders. The wooden spatula in my hand Clanks against the pot, Creating a symphony. A while later, I raise a few slices of onion to my mouth, Which is now watering more than my eyes. Thoughtfully, I chew, until a smile spreads Across my face. It’s delicious. Sugar By Julia Marcus, 13 The white drops of sweetness. The snow spilling over the top of the pancakes. The roughness scraping against the spatula as I attempt to submerge every grain into the floury abyss. The particles left on the counter when the brownies are warming in the oven, the purest form of heaven and tantalization for my nose. The one thing the mug of cocoa needs more of, without it it’s just a bitter, milky cup of steam. The huge cylindrical container in the cabinet, blocking the view of countless bags and boxes and sporting the familiar faded label: Sugar. Moustache Ava Shorten, 10 I twist the cap, anticlockwise
