Editor’s Note: We published Tristan Hui’s story “Coconut Pudding” in the September issue of Stone Soup. In this post, Tristan gives us some background on the subjects she chose to write about. In a seventh grade History unit, every student in my class made a model house of someone living in a certain place, and wrote a creative story based on the culture. I chose to study floating houses on the Tonlé Sap Lake in Cambodia, because the first time I used an architecture book during the unit, it fell open to a picture spread of floating homes in East Asia. It immediately drew me in; I’ve always been more interested in coastal locations and towns near the water than dry, desert-like landscapes. Interestingly, living in a floating home or houseboat doesn’t require citizenship papers. Because of this, many stateless residents live on the Tonlé Sap Lake in Cambodia, or in Vietnam’s picturesque Ha Long Bay. But that was all just background research, to create a basis for my story and model. The plot of my creative writing was originally completely different from what Coconut Pudding turned out to be. I don’t remember it now, but I had come up with something—probably infinitely more complicated—before the unit began. When it was suggested to experiment with different possible plots, I erased the page and came up with something entirely new. That was what ended up being published as Coconut Pudding. I guess it just goes to show… always be flexible and open to new, completely random ideas! The model of the floating house that I made—which would typically be built using lots of lightweight bamboo, wooden post or beam structures with woods like mangrove, and bamboo leaf thatching or corrugated sheet metal for the roof—was really helpful to use in visualizing the storyline once I started to write. Though it wasn’t part of the project to create figurines for the house, I imagined them there, leaning over the railing to wave to a friend or docking a boat filled with fruit after a long day of peddling.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Playing in the Youth Orchestra
My dad parked the car in the parking lot of the performing arts center. I hopped out of the car. It wasn’t the first time I had been there. My family often came here to listen to concerts. But this time, something was different. I wasn’t here to listen. I was here to play. I grabbed my violin and followed my parents to the staircase. I was excited. I had been aspiring to get into orchestra almost ever since I started the violin. What could be more exciting than actually being there? I was also nervous. I knew that orchestra wouldn’t be easy. Was I ready? It was my first time going to the youth orchestra, and I had no idea what to expect. We walked up the stairs to the orchestra rehearsal room. I entered the huge room. The other kids stood at the edges opening cases. In the middle of the room, the chairs and music stands were set up and ready for the rehearsal. The conductor told us that our folders were on our stands. I quickly found mine and sat down. Next to the folder were four songs that we would be playing. I glanced at them. I was curious what they would be. One of them had sixty fourth notes. One of them went all the way into eighth position. All of them would go fast. None of them were easy. I sighed. I had known it would be hard. I hadn’t expected it to be this challenging, but it was fine. I would have plenty of time to learn the songs. At least I hoped so. The conductor came to the front of the room. He welcomed us to the orchestra and gave us information. Then, we started playing. We started sight reading the first piece. My stand partner’s fingers easily moved along the fingerboard of her violin. But I was lost. Still, I tried my best and was able to play some of the easiest sections of the music. I would have to practice the complicated sections a lot at home. I was sure that eventually I’d be able to do it. I’d be ready for the concert in January. Practice makes perfect, right? In the next few weeks, we got even more music. Then, the conductor announced that in three weeks, on October 27, we would have an extra concert with a university orchestra. We were going to play three songs there. One piece went into high positions, it had fast parts, and the whole thing went at lightening speed. It was the hardest piece we had gotten so far, and we didn’t have long to learn it. Preparing for the concert was terrifying. Before I had auditioned to get into the orchestra, my teacher had told me that she wasn’t sure if I was ready. “You’re on the fence.” She told me. But I had been determined to get in. I longed to be part of the orchestra. And when I auditioned, I got in. Still, I wondered if maybe I hadn’t been ready. Maybe orchestra was too hard for me. As the concert got closer, I got even more nervous. I tried to practice the pieces. But although practice makes perfect, I wasn’t sure I could do it in the time I had. Just getting them to a level where I could play most of the notes at the tempo was challenging enough without worrying about dynamics or tuning. It felt like no time before October 27. My dad parked the car in the parking lot of the performing arts center. I hopped out of the car. I grabbed my violin and headed to the door. I was both nervous and excited. Inside, I met many of my friends that are also in orchestra. We talked and laughed as we headed to the practice room. 3 hours later, we sat down in the seats of the auditorium ready to watch the first half of the concert before playing the second half. While the players tuned, we laughed at the typos in the program. Then we listened to the music that was played. It was as enchanting as a witch’s spell. After the songs ended, there was a costume parade since it was right before Halloween. My friends and I whispered about our favorite costumes. My favorite was the peacock. Finally, it was our turn. We got our instruments and took our places on the stage. Then the second half of the concert began. I lifted my violin. The first note sounded loud and clear and the magnificent piece began. I didn’t play perfectly. But, I also didn’t play terribly. When we left, I was grinning from ear to ear. It was a day filled with lots of excitement and fun.
Saturday Newsletter: November 9, 2019
Water Droplets by Anya Geist, 13 (Worcester, MA)Cover art from the Stone Soup November 2019 A note from Jane Levi Those of you with a print subscription to Stone Soup will by now have received your copy of the November issue with its wraparound cover art, Water Droplets, by Anya Geist, and many more of you will have seen the cover and the complete work of art online. If you read editor Emma’s letter at the beginning of the magazine, you will know that a lot of the work in this month’s issue is about ideas of home. As you probably know, I am from the UK, so this gray, wet-looking image sums up a big part of my expectations of November “at home.” I know that lots of our readers live in similar climates, so you will know what I mean . . . Actually, I am in the United States just now—and Santa Cruz, California, is anything but wet at the moment—but I am pretty confident that when I get back to London next weekend it won’t be long before I will be looking out my window and seeing a live version of Anya’s photograph! One of the things I love about this piece of work is the way it is a mixture of the very specific—a clear and precise record of drops of water on (I assume) glass or tile—and the abstract. We can’t see the edges of the surface the water droplets are on, so even with the clarity of the image a lot is left to our imaginations to work out. Without knowing the title, the photograph could be many things: a close-up of bubbles in a tank, or even a piece of concrete. Although it is plain-looking and ostensibly simple, it is very beautiful, and it is thought-provoking. I find it calming and meditative to look at, in the way just sitting and staring out of the window in your favorite spot at home can be when you need to pause and think through what you are going to write next, or when you need to digest a problem. Thank you, Anya, for a terrific cover! Thinking about returning to the UK, I also appreciate Analise Braddock’s poem “Days” in the November issue, where “The gray is space or a planet,” and in the end “It is time to return.” Maybe this weekend you can take some time to sit and stare and think about home, think about places you would like to return to, and write, draw, or photograph something that encapsulates those thoughts and ideas. As always, send it to us if you are happy with it. Until next time, Current Contest: Personal Narrative The way we approach fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, as both readers and writers, is drastically different. For this reason, we’re happy to announce that Stone Soup is partnering with Society of Young Inklings in our very first nonfiction contest and that, in 2020, we will begin to publish all nonfiction under its very own label in the magazine. What makes this contest extra special is our partnership with Society of Young Inklings (SYI): we are very excited to share that their team of professional writers has designed a mentorship experience for both the youth and the educators who take part in this contest. Check out the details on our website here, including links to SYI’s video series to help in writing a personal narrative. Contest deadline is December 15th! Highlights from the past week online Don’t miss the latest content from our Book Reviewers and Young Bloggers at Stonesoup.com! Two book reviews posted on the blog this week! Daniel, 10, reviews the children’s classic A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle, with a special focus on the fictional world of Camazotz. Would you want to live in a place with peace and order, but without any freedom? Leave a comment on his post! Did you watch the movie Hidden Figures? Vivaan, 10, reviews the book by Margot Lee Shetterly, which the movie was based on. Read Vivaan’s thoughts about the “very inspiring” book, in his words. Our Fall Fundraiser, 2019: The Refugee Project We are raising funds to support the production and publication of creative work by children in refugee camps around the world. We have already almost reached our target of $5,000 to support workshops run by and for kids in camps, a special issue of Stone Soup, and associated projects—and we want to keep going! You have already helped us fund workshops in the Za’atari camp and put us in touch with other great organizations we can work with to expand our efforts. Please help us raise the money to continue this work. You can read more about this initiative on our website and help us by sharing the link with others. Thank you. From Stone Soup, November 2019 Days By Analise Braddock, 8 (Katonah, NY) Illustrated by Anya Geist, 12 (Worcester, MA) The nights are long The days are short A breeze is blown A day is a day. It can’t be reliven Make today today Tomorrow is tomorrow The gray is space or a planet. A cold breeze sweeps by It is time to return Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s Advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
