Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity “A Ride With Fate” is an emotionally powerful story about a boy who makes a couple of wrong decisions. The mistakes he makes lead to an accident in which he and someone he cares about are physically hurt, and an elderly man, a friend of Billy’s, is made very sad. Project 1: Write a Sequel I care about Billy, and I care about Mr. Reed. One reason I care about Billy is that he is not a “bad” boy. The mistakes he makes are errors of judgment and I think he will learn from his mistakes. And I like Mr. Reed because he is a kind man who understands that growing is a long, hard process. I think he is a wise, patient man, and a very good friend for Billy to have. I have spent some time wondering what Billy, his father, and Mr. Reed did and talked about in the days following the accident. You might also think about this and even write a sequel to the story. Project 2: Contrast the Beginning With the Ending One reason the concluding scene in “A Ride With Fate” is so effective is that the beginning of the story contrasts with the ending. Beginning with the second paragraph, notice that the world is like paradise—the land is beautiful, Mr. Reed is strong and healthy, Billy is happy, and the horse is handsome and powerful. After this initial paradise is established, most major scenes in the story hint (like Billy’s bad grade in school) that the good, perfect times are coming to an end. Slowly but surely the tone of the story changes. The perfection of the beginning gives way to the dramatic conclusion. Use this technique of contrast between beginning and ending in something you write. You will have to think of the ending to your story before you start writing. If your story will have a happy ending, make the beginning unhappy and troubled. Slowly ease the tension until you get to the happy ending. And if your story will end with strong, difficult emotions and consequences, make your beginning a time of calm happiness and carefully move your story toward the dramatic conclusion. A Ride with Fate By Robert Katzman, 12, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Illustrated by Heidi Hanson, 11, Florida, New York From the May/June 1985 issue of Stone Soup Billy woke up in a cold sweat. His pillow was wet. He got out of bed and hobbled to the window. His leg was still hurting him from the accident. Billy looked out the window and remembered. He remembered it well. Twelve-year-old Billy McCall lives down the road from Mr. David Reed. Mr. Reed is seventy-one; old, but healthy and strong. The ninety-nine acres that Mr. Reed owns was once a dairy farm but is now where he boards horses for their owners. Mr. Reed takes care of thirteen horses. His horse, Buck, is the strongest, and is the leader of them all. No wonder; Buck is a Tennessee Walker thoroughbred. Mr. Reed enjoys riding Buck. In the summer Mr. Reed would ride Buck almost every day. In winter when the grass is usually covered with a couple feet of snow, Mr. Reed would give the horses hay, but Buck would get hay and oats. Every week Buck was groomed, and once a month his hooves were cleaned. Billy was walking up to Mr. Reed’s farm to ask him if he could ride Buck. If he could, this would be the twelfth time. Billy could only go on weekends, so he had to finish all his homework before he went. Billy didn’t like to walk on the road. He didn’t like the paved roads, the cars, the electric fences or the TV antennas on every roof. Billy didn’t like any of these things. You could do without them, he thought. So instead, Billy walked through the field that joined Mr. Reed’s property with his. It was two o’clock Saturday afternoon, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Billy saw Mr. Reed as he was finishing painting the fence that led from the barnyard to the pasture. “Hi, Mr. Reed. Are you enjoying this summer weather we’re having?” “Yeah, I am, Billy. By six o’clock tonight this paint will be as dry as a horse’s throat without water. I guess you want to take Buck out, right, Billy?” “Yeah, I do. It’s a nice day, and I’ve got all my homework done, too.” “O.K. He’s in the first stable. I’m going to wash this brush and go inside. When you come back give Buck some corn. You know where it is.” “Don’t worry, Mr. Reed, I will.” Billy got Buck out of the first stable and tied him to the part of the fence that was already dry. Before Billy went to the saddle shed which was next to the first stable outside the barnyard, he stopped and looked at Buck. He saw his brown hair gleaming in the summer sun. He saw Buck’s broad chest, his strong muscular thighs, and his mane blowing free with the wind. Billy got the saddle and put it on him. The other horses in the barnyard talked to each other, probably about what they will do, and where they will go when Buck is ridden away, Billy thought. Billy fastened the girth under Buck’s stomach, adjusted the stirrups, and got on. He rode Buck down the lane and onto the road. Billy was always careful with Buck while riding along the narrow country highway, because he knew Buck was one of a kind. Billy rode Buck along the road for about a half hour and then decided to turn off of it. He rode through a field that was once a thriving dairy farm in the late eighteen hundreds. The land was rich and fertile. No one owned it now, but somebody was supposed to buy it in October. Billy led Buck down to the
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Writing Activity: defining character with non-standard English, with “My Country and the Way to America”, by Huong Nguyen, 11 (a harrowing tale)
Map of Vietnam This is one of the most extraordinary stories Stone Soup has published in its long history. This activity focuses on how to effectively use non-standard English to define your character. “My Country and the Way to America” is a difficult story to read. It describes awful situations in which people die. The story is best read with an adult. If you are not familiar with the Vietnam War and the so-called “Boat People” who fled the country in the years following it, then please also read this introduction to that war before reading the story. Project: Using non-standard English to define your character. Huong had something to say. Despite the fact that she didn’t know English well at the time she wrote this story, she said what was burning in her heart with the words and grammatical skills in her possession. Huang’s story is written in what we call non-standard English. In other words, it is full of grammatical “errors.” But, in this case, the grammatical errors contribute to the effectiveness of the story. The language in which the story is written lacks many of the small connector words that we usually use when we speak or write English. The verb tenses are also not always correct. But, in this story, these “errors” focus our attention on the actions that are most important, giving the prose an incredible sense of rawness and urgency. “After three days or four days out the ocean, the boat have a hole and the water coming,” conveys the isolation and fear that overwhelms this boatload of people stuck in a sinking boat in the South China Sea more effectively than a perfectly written sentence would have. In the case of Huong’s story, her unusual way of writing English makes her story all the more memorable and, as a work of literature, all the more effective. This story was written in 1985. In 2017, as I write this, children and families are once again fleeing in small boats from wars and mistreatment. This time, these frightening, and often fatal, voyages are taking place in the Mediterranean Sea as people flee the wars of Afghanistan, Syria, South Sudan and trouble in other countries, such as Eritrea. Huong’s story brings the reality of the boat trip alive to us in a way that news articles do not. How can you use this idea of non-standard English? For most writers, it is in writing dialogue that non-standard English is most useful as a literary tool. I suggest two projects. In one, create a character whose English is almost normal, but has a few small quirks that makes it unique. Once you have mastered a character with a few eccentric turns of phrase, write a story in which the whole story is told through a character whose language, like that Huong, is different from normal. If you choose a very young child as your character, then that story might explore the difference between what the child can say and what the child can see and understand. To prepare for these projects, listen carefully to how people talk. Listen to people talking the way you listen to music. For teachers, you might refer to William Faulkner’s “Sound and the Fury ” for a sense of how an adult writer uses non-standard English for expressive intent.
Writing Activity: unexpected perspectives, or the other side of the story, with “Blending In” by Jonathan Rosenbaum, 10
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity In “Blending In,” by Jonathan Rosenbaum, Charlie is at camp where he is teased by Carl and Jeremy, as well as by other campers. Like most stories about teasing, “Blending In” is told from the perspective of the boy or girl who is teased. But what about Carl, Jeremy, and the others? What are they thinking and feeling? In what way do they see Charlie as “different” and why does that make them want to tease him? Project: As a Challenge, Write a Story About Teasing From the Point of View of the Teasers Make your characters as interesting and complex as possible–more than just “good” and “bad” guys. Like a reporter, you can do research for your story. All of us (almost) tease people and most of us have experienced being teased, so you should be able to gather information for your story from many sources. Talk to your friends and family about teasing, and don’t forget to think about your own life and actions. Through your characters’ actions you might want to provide insights into such questions as: How do your characters identify someone who is fun to tease? Do your characters ever plan in advance what they do? Is teasing all fun for your characters or do they sometimes think about their actions afterwards and feel bad about what they have done? Blending In By Jonathan Rosenbaum, 10, Hillel Day School, Oak Park, Michigan Illustrated by the author From the March/April 1985 issue of Stone Soup Dear Mom and Dad, I am having the best time ever at overnight camp. The activities are fun, and the counselors and campers are really great. Don’t forget to write. Love ya! Love, Charlie P.S. Send some candy, please. Preferably licorice. I lay my Erasermate and letter down and plopped onto my cot. Although it wasn’t the big, comfortable bed I have back home, even it seemed good considering my weary condition. I had just returned from a morning softball game followed by clean-up duty in the mess hall so I was really feeling exhausted. I re-read my letter and sighed. Well, two out of three isn’t bad, I thought to myself. The activities at camp are fun: boating, swimming, sports, drama, field trips, arts and crafts. My counselors are great: David is very understanding and Bob is super at sports. But, the campers . . . Sighing again, I stood up and trudged across the rough wooden floor to the bunk bathroom. I looked at myself in the cracked, dirty mirror, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Why couldn’t I write the truth to my parents? I know that they would understand and help make everything all right. Because I love them, though, I didn’t want to break their hearts with my problems. After all, they paid for me to have a good, fun time at camp so how could I send them a letter saying that their dear son, Charlie, is an outsider and a jerk and has no friends. Sighing for the third time, I walked back to my cot and braced myself for the daily matinee performance of “Let’s Irk Charlie.” Sure enough, there was Carl, the “star” of the tragedy, sprawled across my bed, messing up my blankets, sleeping bag, and pillow. He even seemed to have added jumping on my bed to his role. I glared at him, feeling both angry and helpless. I was mad because I knew he was doing this on purpose, fully aware that having my things messed up bothered me. I felt helpless because I knew that if I told him to get off, he’d just call me a nerd and make life more miserable for me, and if I ignored him, my stuff would look like a tornado had hit it. Having no real choice, I reluctantly assumed my part in the unfolding drama. In a strained voice, I said, “Carl, would you please get off my bed?” Carl taunted, “But your bed is more comfortable than mine.” In a voice even more forced, I pleaded, “Come on, Carl! Really! I’m not being mean or anything, but just PLEASE get off my bed!” Again, Carl refused, so, on cue, the dialogue ended and the physical action began. I pulled at Carl, Carl fought back, I pulled again. Finally, only when my bed had become a total disaster, did Carl majestically get off. He looked at me with disgust and hatred in his eyes. “Jeez! Why are you in such a bad mood all the time?” With that, he grandly stamped off to the other guys who had been applauding throughout the entire scene. They all chatted together, totally ignoring me. Intermission lasted until bedtime when the evening performance of “Let’s Irk Charlie” began. This time, Jeremy, another cabinmate, was the star. Every night before Lights Out, Jeremy would bug me to let him read one of my comic books. In a never-ending attempt to be one of the guys, I would lend him one. Within minutes, Jeremy had either dripped toothpaste over the pages, “accidentally” dropped the book into the toilet, or crinkled it up to use as a pretend softball. When I finally got the comic back, it looked like it had been through World War III. I didn’t know who I hated more, Carl, Jeremy, and the guys, or myself. Why do they have to bother me all the time? Why do I have to get so uptight when they jump on my bed or mess up my things? Are they wrong for hurting me the way they do, or am I wrong for being the way I am? Sometimes I feel so disgusted and confused that I even wish that I could stop time, turn back the clock, and do the day over as a totally different person. When I once talked this over with my counselor, David, he suggested that I make a list of everything
