An update from our forty-third Writing Workshop A summary of the workshop held on Saturday June 5, plus some of the output published below In this workshop, William took one of his earliest writing workshop topics—alliteration—and reworked it, adding more for the writers of the group to think about. In addition to alliteration, William also reviewed the technique of assonance, which occurs when the sounds in the middle of words repeat themselves. The class went over examples of alliteration and assonance, including from Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. The Challenge: Either find a piece of prose that you’ve already written, and add alliteration OR start something fresh using the techniques of alliteration. The Participants: Sage, Reese, Chelsea, Lena A, Delight, Madeline, Helen, Margaret, Hanbei, Peri, Julia, Pranjoli, Nami, Angela, Jonathan, Audrey, Gia, Jaya, Peter, Sierra, Arishka, Grace, Tilly, Mahika, Mia, Iago, Charlotte, Rachael, Lina. Nami Gajcowski, 11Seattle, WA The Soul in the Clouds Nami Gajcowski, 11 I clutched a soft avocado in my hand and squished it slightly. It had just the right firmness and it would be fantastic in guacamole. I heard a sharp yelp, so I spun around to see a toddler with a desperate scream. I covered my ears before dropping the avocado into my shopping cart. Then, I pushed my items away from the toddler and found myself in the kids’ section. I was in the midst of stuffed zebras and gazelles with the faint buzzing sound of the child’s scream, somewhere near the produce section. I grabbed a plush zebra before dropping it into my shopping cart. I had no use for a zebra, but it would be my only memory of before. It would be the thing that held me onto terrifying, but true, reality. Tens of thousands of people went through this. But they had forgotten. Or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe it was tucked away deep inside their soul, no matter how much they tried to forget about it. No one had mentioned the seemingly perfectly nice people who brought everyone down with a betrayal. No one mentioned how many people were lost in the terrible escape. No one remembered that I was ten and was still clutching a stuffed zebra as the world fell at my feet and then turned into chaos. Or maybe it was forgiven and forgotten. But how could we forgive them? How could life go on as normal, with stores still selling pungent yet petrifying fruit that might’ve contained poison after the betrayal? How could they dare to do that? There was danger in this society. Hints of a downfall appeared here and there. Shocking incidents had confirmed that. But there were no rumors. No nothing. Any hint of what happened after the betrayal that happened now was not noticed or forgotten. Everything around me began swimming in my tear-filled eyes. I was no longer in the clutch of reality. I was floating… floating somewhere far and safe. Floating. Floating out of this world where people forgot about the horrors and tried – but would fail – to rebuild a new society and confirm that everything was okay. But nothing would be okay. Nothing. I could no longer see the grocery store. I was spinning in bright colors, clutching the zebra. Clutching the only thing that had tried and failed to bring me down to the ground. Even though I hated pretending everything was normal even though it wasn’t, I couldn’t go up into the air. I had to stay on the ground. Frantically groping around for something to hold on to was impossible. There was nothing to hold on to. My emotions began to conflict. Calm, terrified. Calm, terrified. Like the never-ending tidal wave that the moon brought. Like the days before the betrayal… like the calmness. But how could I give in to the sensation? I had to. It was the only way to survive. Visions of my life swirled around me. Of before. Of before the terrors. The zebra stuffy that I had– named Ellie – that I used to snuggle with every night. Of my old best friend. Of everything that had happened before. No. I needed to grab on to reality. I pondered shutting my eyes, hoping to block out the visions, but that would only take me farther away from the ground. I needed an anchor. I had no anchor. I had no someone who could be my anchor. I was floating. Floating. I would disappear soon. Off of the face of the earth. Up into the hands of the sky. No. No. No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t become a wisp of smoke – helpless against the world. I couldn’t. I couldn’t. But I was. I was no longer a person. I was a ghost. With trailing wisps of smoke. I was nothing. I was gone. My soul floated through the clouds. I tried to reach out for it, but it drifted out into the sun. I wasn’t dead. But I wasn’t living. I am an immortal body with no soul – an immortal body in the clouds. My soul continued to drift into the clouds. Soon it was gone. It had entered the sun. It was gone. Forever. Lina Kim, 11Weston, FL Sacrifice of the Sea Lina Kim, 11 Swimming seals sing songs of sacrifice, sending a seahorse to the seafloor. Tiny turtles turn and circle the swimming seahorse. Corals coo the carols of calmness, letting the little seahorse softly fall asleep. The shark swims by, stealing shells from the seafloor, and swims past the sleeping seahorse. The shark sweeps up the seahorse, swooping away to snack on the sleeping seahorse. The creatures are safe for another day. Pranjoli Sadhukha, 11, Newark, OH The Ocean Oasis Pranjoli Sadhukha, 11 The water teemed with wild things. The turtle’s whimsical thoughts were in tune with the sparkling, smiling sun and the beautiful blue-green bliss enveloping his shell. Eventually, he swam to the surface and paused his pondering, letting himself simply enjoy the
alliteration
Weekly Writing Workshop #15, Friday July 10, 2020: Writing With Alliteration
An update from our fifteenth Weekly Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop, plus some of the output published below The Stone Soup Weekly Writing Workshop is open to all Stone Soup contributors and subscribers. Every Friday, we meet for an hour-and-a-half via Zoom to respond to a new writing challenge, write together in our virtual room, and then share what we have written with one another. Our conversation on July 10 was attended by young writers from across the US, as well as in France and the UK. Our topic was “writing with alliteration” and how alliteration can enhance what we write. (Alliteration is where the words in a sentence start with the same letter. For example: Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.) We started off by reading a few tongue twisters, since most tongue twisters rely on alliteration. Next, we listened to the opening measures of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, since they contain a rhythm that repeats itself over and over again, similar to alliteration. We also thought about using alliteration in a more precise way, and how we can put it into certain places in our writing to give off a specific effect. To see how this worked, we all found a story or poem that we had written and tried to add alliteration to it. After sharing out a few examples, we then set out to create a new piece of writing which used alliteration. Read on below to get a feeling for some of the powerful writing we were given a glimpse of in this session! The Participants: Allie, Rhian, Liam, Enni, Nami, Maddie, Simran, Sophia, Peri, Shreya, Kanav, Ma’ayan, James, Raeha, Janani, Heather, Gracie, Ally, Abi, Lena, Simone, Charlotte, Sneha, Tilly, Anya, Madeline (x 2!), and more… Araliya, 11Sandy Hook, CT Ted the Terrifying Tiger Araliya, 11 Ted the terrifying tiger Tiptoes through tangled trees His twitching tail thumping. His terrible teeth terrifying turtles. Who tumble away. Anya Geist, 14Worcester, MA Raindrops That Rattle the Water Anya Geist, 14 rain drops rattled the water sending rolling hills of ripples far, far out into the lake. the water itself was a grinning sort of grey not gross, but fresh and free. kids sat on the dock, on the raft watching rainwater splatter down onto the worn wood and then the monumental clouds the monoliths, the master of rain shirked off, sliding out of the sky the water was blue and kids burst into it soaking themselves as their splashes were the new rain drops that rattled the water Peri Gordon, 10Sherman Oaks, CA The Waterfall Place Peri Gordon, 10 A waterfall dove down into a rushing river, vivid in color, reflecting the calm cerulean sky. The land was lush, and lagomorphs would launch into the air and back down again. The waterfall watched as it steadily streamed down, down, down until it reached the beautiful body of the river. Surrounding the river were ponds, perfect pools of water in which ducks would float as gaggles of geese grazed the surface. It was a pleasurable area, precious as a pearl, picturesque as a painting. There was never a cloud in the sky, nothing but blue, with the exception of rare rainbow beams. Sophia Hou, 10Short Hills, NJ Penelope Pricklebottom Sophia Hou, 10 Penelope Pricklebottom was a particularly peculiar porcupine with prickly purple spikes. Penelope pondered, passing time under a pine. The sky shimmered and the sun sat high. She smelled something, sugary and sweet. Perhaps a papaya, parsnip, or pistachio pie? Piano prodigy Penelope Pricklebottom surmised she had perfect performances, others simply said a single word: pompous. Kanav Kachoria, 11Potomac, MD The Dry Desert Kanav Kachoria, 11 Everyone knows about the dry desert. Its soft sand and drifting dust flings into the air making the sky so unclear to see. It rarely rains in the dry desert, as there still is not even a wet wonderful cold drop of water since 10 years ago. The torching temperature can reach up to 115 degrees some days, maybe even higher! The rattling snakes and small scorpions raid the desert. You don’t want to come close to them, as they will make you suffer severely stabbing pain everywhere in your body. It’s a whole different world out there, so beware beware of the dry desert. Madeline Kline, 12Potomac, MD Art Contest Madeline Kline, 12 The first one I pass Flower field with towering trees The second one I pass Dreary day with boring books The third one I pass Cantankerous child throwing torturous tantrum over delicious delicacies After I pass more And time for awards Blue ribbon goes To Cantankerous child Because torturous tantrums Are relatable realitiesmmmm Madeline Nohrnberg, 13Cambridge, MA Silver Swans Madeline Nohrnberg, 13 Seven silver swans Silently swim seaward Swooping softy, Steadily, swiftly Out into the opaque open ocean Gracefully gliding home.
