Profile of a Guardian, by Hannah Parker, age 11 Forthcoming issue, Stone Soup Magazine The Art of Photography Stone Soup Editor Emma and I have spent a lot of time looking at your art and photography submissions this past week. We are so impressed, especially with some of your photographs. You have made us really excited about featuring more photographs – like this wonderful one of a trusted dog – in future issues of Stone Soup. Keep them coming, please!Photography is one of the more recent art forms. Sculpture and painting have been around for tens of thousands of years, but photography was not invented until the 1840s, fewer than 200 years ago. This makes it something of a newcomer within the history of art, which is why it has only joined sculpture, painting, and drawing on an equal basis relatively recently. We think it’s time for Stone Soup to embrace photography, too. From now on, we want to see your photographic art works as well as your drawings, and we want to see illustrations for stories and poems in both media too. In our submissions portal we have merged our categories, so that now you’ll see the option to submit Art – which can be a drawing or a photograph – in one place. Do please keep your Art works coming! Reviewing, Reading Aloud & Recording We are looking for reviews of poems for our September poetry issue, due in by 1st August. We have a page of top tips for reviewing poetry to help you if you are thinking about sending us a review. One piece of advice for getting into poetry that I particularly like is to read a poem aloud to yourself. Reading out loud really lets you hear the music that is part of most poetry, and often helps to make much more sense of what the poet is trying to say. Try it with some of Editor Emma’s suggestions for reviews: “Caged Bird,” Maya Angelou “Jabberwocky,” Louis Carroll “little tree,” e.e. cummings “A Bird, came down the Walk -,” Emily Dickinson “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” Robert Frost “Theme for English B,” Langston Hughes “Spring,” Edna St. Vincent Millay “Fog,” Carl Sandburg “I Hear America Singing,” Walt Whitman “This Is Just To Say,” William Carlos Williams “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” William WordsworthYou could even record yourself reading or reciting a poem – you’ll be surprised what new things you hear in a poem when you listen to yourself! If you make a really great recording of yourself reading a poem, why not send it to us? We might feature some of you reciting poems as part of our September poetry issue! Until next week, William From Stone Soup May/June 2017 The Evolution of Calpurina Tate Book by Jacqueline Kelly Review by June Hill The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, by Jacqueline Kelly. Henry Holt and Company: New York, 2009; $17.99 Calpurnia Tate is the kind of eleven-year-old who is always asking questions—questions about nature and animals and insects, such as why do dogs need eyebrows, or can earthworms be trained? Such topics fascinate her. The only person who can answer them is her grandfather, who spends his time either in his laboratory, trying to make whisky out of pecans, or out in the quiet Texas woods of 1899, picking his way through the underbrush, examining plants and various toads. Unfortunately, Calpurnia finds his bushy eyebrows and scratchy voice imposing and so contents herself with writing the questions down in a notebook one of her six brothers had given her. One day, a question about grasshoppers nags at her so much that she simply has to confront her fears and ask her grandfather. Rather than answering her question, he simply tells her, “I suspect a smart young whip like you can figure it out. Come back and tell me when you have.”… read more
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Saturday Newsletter: June 17, 2017
A Village in Malawi, circa 1975 Wisland Phiri, age 12 Malawi A note from William Rubel Hello everyone School is out, so I know that you will all be spending a lot of time outside this summer doing things. When I look at this picture I like to think about the sounds that we don’t hear but that are implied by the scene—the sounds of chickens, roosters, dogs, and the leaves rustling in the trees. And, of course, even though we don’t see children, we can imagine them playing just outside the frame, perhaps around the back of the house. The woman making the basket is working alone, but it makes sense to imagine others doing similar things nearby. It is likely there is conversation in the air, as well. And birds. And insects. The air would be alive with sound. This picture has what is called “a sense of place.” I’d like you to make a picture this weekend of an outdoor scene that, like Wisland’s picture of this Malawian village, offers a full sense of what it looks and feels like to live where you live or to be visiting where you are visiting this summer. Make a picture that, though silent, is so rich with the sense of its place that viewers will be drawn into the scene even to the point of hearing the sounds that are part of it. I can’t wait to see (and hear) your drawings! Introducing Emma Wood, Stone Soup Editor Today, I’d like to more formally introduce you to our new editor, Emma Wood. Originally from New York City, Emma currently lives in the redwoods of Santa Cruz, CA, with her husband and their two dogs. She is a poet with a BA in Russian History & Literature from Harvard, and an MFA in poetry from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where she taught literature and poetry writing. Emma has previously served as an editor at The Morning News and currently edits interviews for the Rumpus. Her first book, a collaborative translation with the poet C Dylan Bassett, will be published in Winter 2018. The best way to introduce Emma, though, is to see and hear her talking about poetry and her own work in this video. I learned a lot about poetry from watching this, and I hope you find it inspiring, too. I also encourage you to visit Emma’s website, which includes a section with links to her writing. Welcome, Emma! Our new Stone Soup Editor, Emma Wood, talks about poetry. This week’s story from the archives Like the drawing at the top of this letter, this week’s story has a strong sense of place. Perhaps you’d rather write a story than draw a picture this week, so perhaps you can read this one and think about creating a powerful sense of place with your own words. If you are looking for some great examples, other stories published in Stone Soup with a strong sense of place can be found here. Until next time William From Stone Soup January/February 2014 Where the Cotton Bolls Grow By Sharon Wang, age 13 Illustrator Vivienne Clark, age 11 My father was the first in his rural hometown to ever go to college. In China the colleges are scarce. College entrance exams were created to wipe out the majority of the people who wanted to advance from high school. In my father’s time, not all the high-school graduates took the exams, and out of those who did, only three percent made it to college. It was the accomplishment of this feat that led him to meet my mother and eventually move to the United States. Ten years later, our family took our first plane trip back to China. I was twelve the summer we rode on a silver bird over mountains and seas to fly to my father’s homeland. We transferred to a seven-hour bus which bobbed over miles and miles of blue and green expanse with fishermen laying sheets of plastic on the sides of the road to dry their newly harvested crayfish. Bus changed to pickup truck when an uncle that I had never seen enthusiastically picked us up in the only automobile in the village, a large clumsy machine with a roar that mixed with that of the wind until I could not tell which was which. Read more
Stone Soup Cover Contest
Do you want your drawing, painting, or photograph on the cover of Stone Soup? We are offering a $25 Amazon gift certificate to the winner of our first ever Stone Soup Cover Contest! The rules are simple: create a visual response to one (or all) of the following excerpts from stories that will be published in a future issue of Stone Soup and submit it via Submittable. The winning image must be a complete picture, with no white space left on the page. Just as when you look out at the world, so your art should fill the whole page with detail. Each of the passages we’ve chosen are rich with visual detail. Your job is to choose the part of the visual image that appeals to you the most, and that you feel confident you can represent in art. You may make a painting, a drawing, or a photograph. If taking a photograph interests you, one approach might be to recreate a scene from the story, using friends, family, or even a pet, as your models. The contest will close September 1, 2017. June 2017 Cover Contest Passages “The Man on the Bench,” by Ella Glodeck As she skipped across the sidewalk to catch up to Maggie, she saw the old, blind man sitting on the dirty, tattered bench outside the Rite Aid. His ripped wool hat was lying upside down in front of him. His pursed lips slid the side of a harmonica in his hands, a beautiful tune. Helen couldn’t help but wonder why he decided to sit on that old, dirty bench, getting the remains of his clothes all muddy. She looked inside the upside down hat and saw one penny laying there, almost lonesome. Helen reached her hand down to the bottom of her back pocket and slowly pulled out the fifty cents that she planned on using for her blueberry Pop Rocks, and dropped it into the almost empty hat. “We No Longer Go Outside,” by Stella Lin Sunrays pour into the old slider window, illuminating the white-washed walls of the bedroom; posters and certificates are plastered on the opposite wall, their color faded from years of sun. A little girl is curled up in bed, clutching the blankets in fitful sleep. I sigh and gaze through the window at the pale blue sky, which is undisturbed by occasional clouds. Outside, the leaves of the cherry blossom tree slowly wave in the breeze, and the birds continue their constant chatter. “Let’s go play,” I whimper as I lick Sarah’s face. “Oh, Hua Hua, you want to go play?” Sarah asks; her face reveals a solemn expression. “Play!” I bark, wagging my tail. “I’m sorry,” she replies, and lies back down. I rest my chin on my paws, and Sarah pulls me close to her chest as she lazily strokes my white fur. “Paradise?,” by Kaya Simcoe As I look around me, surveying my surroundings, everything seems different. The sunlight that is spilling onto the ocean sparkles like a thousand gems, and I’m lead to wonder if there actually are a thousand gems floating on the clear surface. The palm trees sweep over me, like protectors, never tiring of providing me shade. A seagull whooshes over me, bringing freedom to my body, also. The sand softly crunches under my feet, a million grains smushed per footprint. Yet, the tide washes them away, so I’m here, but there is no proof that I ever came.