My Sister (pencil) by Crystal Fu, 12; published in the September/October issue of Stone Soup A note from Emma Wood Hello, friends! As many of you know, my family and I recently moved to Cincinnati, Ohio. I was surprised to realize that, even though Chicago is a mere four-hour drive away, Ohio is on Eastern time—and in fact, Indiana, the state directly to the west of us, is on Eastern time too! This means the mornings are shorter and evenings are later. When it’s evening, I love that it’s still light. But every morning, I wish the sun were already up; it’s hard to wake up in the dark, and it’s only September—which means we have many more months of dark mornings ahead. The tension between my mandated time zone and what feels like the actual time has prompted me to think more about time—and especially about the way I’ve adapted to this new relationship to daytime hours and sunlight. In the September issue, there are a few poems about time: you can read two by Madeline Male, 14, here and here, and one by Sonia Kamnitzer, 10, here. Over the coming weeks, I encourage you to reflect on your relationship to time and to explore it through writing or visual art (or both!). As always, consider submitting your work to us after—we’d love to consider it for publication! Otherwise, I hope everyone is settling into a calmer back-to-school routine. My daughter started her first year of preschool this week, and we are all still adjusting! If you don’t already subscribe to the magazine, we are currently running a promotion for 30% off our annual print and digital subscription with the code BACK2SCHOOL30 for the month of September. Please consider signing up this fall, or urging your friends or your child’s school to do so. As always, we appreciate your support of Stone Soup! Yours from in front of an open window with perfectly cool air wafting in– 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 Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Space Case, Reviewed by Arjun Nair, 11
Dashiell Gibson is the luckiest 12-year-old on Earth, although he sees it through a different lens. The truth is, no one on Moon Base Alpha (MBA) feels different about their “extraordinary” opportunity. As this is the first-ever moon base to exist in 2040, everyone has their fair share of responsibilities. In Space Case, Stuart Gibbs shows how in the end, some of the limitations of the moon will always hold back humanity, or at least for now. Dash’s only friend at MBA is Roddy, another boy just one year older than him. Back on Earth, they probably wouldn’t have been friends. However, because they were the only ones around the same age, they didn’t get to choose. The story kicks off when a spaceship arrives with more people after Dr. Holtz’s murder. Well, that was what Dash assumed. The noble scientist stepped out of the air-lock alone and died immediately. With surprising persistence for a twelve-year-old, Dash continues to state that Holtz was murdered, which makes everyone else at the base think he is going mad. Kira, another twelve-year-old, has just arrived on the spaceship with new arrivals, and after hearing Dash’s theory, she starts to help him investigate. Along with her, a very mysterious character joins him in the quest to discover the cause of Holtz’s murder. Eventually, the suspects narrowed down to just a few, and to prove their theory, Dash and Kira go on a dangerous mission. But when they all think that everything is finally making sense, confusion rings the doorbell. I connected with Dash deeply because I just started middle school this year, and there is a significant change in everything, including the environment. In his case, Dash had to adjust to the new life at MBA and learn to cope with everything. This connection made the book an even better experience for me, which is why I recommend it. Overall, Space Case by Stuart Gibbs had me waiting with bated breath on every page. This thrilling mystery novel with hints of humor is the perfect read for any young reader around 9-14. As I progressed through the book, every page surprised me beyond comprehension. Even after completing the book, I wondered what would happen next, which meant that I had to read the next book in the series to satisfy the rising suspense, of course! Space Case by Stuart Gibbs. Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2015. Buy the book here and help support Stone Soup in the process!
Flash Contest #59, September 2023: Write a story where your pet (or your friend’s pet) is the protagonist–our winners and their work
Our September 2023 Flash Contest was based on Prompt #269 (provided by Stone Soup contributor Molly Torinus), which asked that participants write a story from the perspective of a pet. Our submitters wrote about their furry friends’ crazy and (often hilarious) adventures. There were plenty of escapes, an ant left behind, a search for tuna, and trips into alternate dimensions. 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 “From ForeverPet to Forever Home” by Nikita Fishman, 12 “Mian Mian’s Untimely Adventure” by Courtney Fong, 12 “I’ll Keep Waiting” by Abigail Lee, 12 “The Life of a Guinea Pig” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 11 “Sticky and the Power of Friendship in Warfare” by Aleena Shaik, 13 Honorable Mentions “Forgotten” by Kyle Chinchio, 10 “The Ocean’s Presents” by Olivia Hsu, 11 “The (Mis)adventures of Butters the Cat” by Dylan Suggs, 11 “The Dogs Who Hated Their Owners” by Helena Xue, 10 “Visit to the Vet” by Eric Yang, 13 From ForeverPet to Forever Home NIKITA FISHMAN, 12 Monday, May 25 was a special date; I knew from the minute I woke up. Sunlight beamed through the windows, casting a gentle glow that danced on the gleaming, polished floors. Nestled snugly within my sleeping chamber, I found myself sound asleep, oblivious to the world around me. A silly smile adorned my face as I drooled. Suddenly, a jarring phone ring erupted from the reception desk, dragging me from my sweet Neverland. It had been like this for months. Ever since the pandemic, my temporary home at ForeverPet Southfield had been transformed into a tranquil haven. Instead of the persistent echoing footsteps, I was interrupted only by the sudden “Ring!” that would inexplicably shatter the calm. I preferred footsteps over phone rings; they offered a more gradual, and thus, more predictable rhythm. With the soothing elevator music in the background, you could almost imagine the person approaching—whether tall or short, slender or plump, young or old. On the other hand, phone rings were sudden and sporadic. I yearned for the old days when the small pets’ aisle basked in peace, while the true hustle and bustle unfolded in the cats and dogs’ sections or within the pet salon. Watching dogs in their overgrown coats being reluctantly dragged into the salon never failed to bring an uproarious comedy spectacle. But, back to my story, the day that changed my life forever. . . Upon awakening, I opened my eyes to find my favorite person, John, one of the store managers, approaching the small pet aisle. I don’t see him often since he’s typically occupied helping out chatty dog owners. However, on the rare occasions I do get to spend time with him, he never fails to greet me with a handful of treats and his signature belly rub. Hamsters are never given much attention. The only other interactions I had with the other store clerks were scheduled cage cleanings, during which my soiled bedding was removed and my food replenished. John was an exception. Donned in a pink polo shirt with the ForeverPet logo, he held a phone to his ear with his right hand, while his other hand opened the Roborovski dwarf hamster enclosure on my left. After a brief moment of inspecting the cage, he said, “Yes, we have quite a few dwarf hamsters available. We are open until eight o’clock this evening. My name is John by the way. Feel free to ask for me when you come in.” He finally hung up. “Over here, John! I’m awake!” I cried out, running a few laps around my enclosure in hopes of gaining his attention. “Hi, little one,” John tapped on my cage. He whispered, “Maybe today will be the day. A girl and her mom are on their way in search of a dwarf hamster!” At that very moment, the world came to a halt for me. A shockwave surged through my spine, as if an imaginary colony of ants were crawling up my neck. Did this mean I would never see John ever again? I immediately started squeaking in protest. “Are you excited, little one?” John asked, adding a chuckle. What? No! Was he out of his mind? I watched in disbelief as he walked away with a smile plastered on his face. He even forgot my treats! My heart thumped against my rib cage like a hungry beast trying to escape its cage. How could you, John? I sank down against the side of my enclosure, drowning in my own defeat. It was at that very moment that I came up with a plan, my last hope—playing dead. No one would want a dead rodent, right? All my life I wanted to be wanted, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I dashed towards a shadowy corner of my cage and began excavating a deep hole, ready to put my plan into action. I’ll bury myself and maybe they won’t even notice me. The more I said it, the more I believed it. Tick-tock, the hours raced past. Between pacing back and forth in my cage and casting anxious glances at the door, it was nearing five o’clock before I knew it. There was zero sign of the girl and her mom. Optimistic thoughts began to surface in my mind. Could it be that they got lost on their way? Maybe, better yet, had a change of heart and opted to go with a cat or dog instead? Holding onto these hopeful thoughts, I dozed off. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay after all. The next thing I knew, I was awakened by someone peering down into the cage and enthusiastically bouncing up and down. Huh? What’s going on? Puzzled, I poked my head out, sniffing the air and examining my surroundings. A few feet away from me, I spotted a small ponytail bobbing
