An update from our twelfth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop held on Saturday September 11, plus some of the output published below Conner Bassett began our fall session of writing workshops with a question: what does it mean to write fiction or poetry? His answer? To put into language what is inherently nonlinguistic. This definition, he realized, could be simplified into one word—metaphor. From there we defined metaphor (a comparison between two things), using famous phrases such as “Life is a highway” & “All the world is a stage” as examples. Through a reading of Emily Dickinson’s “Hope is the Thing with Feathers,” we learned how metaphors can help us make abstract concepts into concrete images. To further this point, we looked at two works of art published in the September 2021 Issue of Stone Soup—I Feel Music by Serena Li & The Hidden World by Sabrina Lu. Next, we learned how metaphors can help us understand complex ideas and emotions through a discussion surrounding the line “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!” from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. This concept was strengthened by visual metaphors seen in the Egyptian Icon The Ladder of Divine Ascent and Wyeth’s Christina’s World. Finally, we learned how metaphors transform one thing into something completely different so that we can see it in a new way. Examples used to back up this concept were a sentence from John Green’s The Fault in our Stars, a few lines from Sylvia Plath’s poem “Metaphors,” and an advertisement for sunglasses in which lenses were transformed into lemon slices. The Challenge: Two part prompt. First, write a one sentence metaphor about this painting: Norham Castle, Sunrise. Then, write a story or a poem that begins and ends with the same metaphor. The Participants: Emma, Simran, Clara, Sinan, Olivia, Lina, Josh, Ellie, Alice B, Audrey, and Svitra Svitra Rajkumar, 13(Fremont, CA) Free as a Bird Svitra Rajkumar, 13 Feathers flap, determined. Wings glide, graceful. “You can’t be a bird If you don’t fly,” they say. You can’t be a bird if you don’t try. So I watch each baby bird Flap its wings and grow. Soon it flies away But I have no choice But to stay. “Why don’t I go Towards the sky,” they ask. Why can’t I be the bird that Doesn’t Fly.
Conner Bassett
Saturday Newsletter: September 18, 2021
Autobiography (iPhone 6s) By Amity Doyle, 11 (Katonah, NY) & published in the September 2021 Issue of Stone Soup A note from Caleb Classes We were so excited to see all of your faces last weekend—new and returning—for our first round of fall session classes! If you haven’t yet signed up and fear you’ve missed your chance, don’t be discouraged; we are still taking new students in all four of our classes (writing workshop with William, writing workshop with Conner, filmmaking with Isidore, and Book Club with Laura), though Isidore’s class will close after the fifth session. And if you’re worried about catching up for missed time, this won’t be a problem as each class in the session is a standalone lesson—plus, you’ll receive a video of each class you missed at a reduced price! Also, beginning today, and retroactively through the spring/summer session 2021, we will be releasing full videos of the readings from both William and Conner’s writing workshops, in which you can see yourselves reading your delightful writing aloud, and relive William and Conner’s exultant feedback. These videos will be available on our weekly Writing Workshop write-ups published on the blog as well as our YouTube channel. Tristan Hui’s The Other Realm As Emma did last week, I’d encourage you all to watch William’s lovely video celebrating the September 1 publication of Tristan’s novel The Other Realm. In other exciting news, we’ve launched a brand new book page featuring precocious Stone Soup contributor Lena Aloise’s interview of Tristan, which you can watch above. Keep visiting the page for other news—reviews, awards, events—regarding Tristan and The Other Realm. If after watching Tristan’s interview you find yourself hungry for more, there is a longer, more exclusive look inside Tristan’s experience writing The Other Realm on our author interview section on the blog. While you’re there, you might rediscover some of our other fantastic interviews with authors such as Abhi Sukhdial, Ariana Kralicek, and Lena Aloise. Write and Publish a Multimedia E-book! Dr. Jiang Pu, a member of the Stone Soup family, is offering a series of ten classes on publishing a multimedia e-book on Asian/Pacific Islander American heroes in conjunction with published authors Oliver Chin and David Siller! Students will have their multimedia e-books published in the world’s first student-made AAPI online library and present at SCCL Young Author Talk Forum and lunar new year event! This is a class for highly motivated young writers who want to practice research skills, media literacy and critical thinking, multimedia creative design, and more. As we all have different learning capabilities as well as varying schedules, Dr. Pu has split the class into three different start times: every Wednesday at 4 pm PDT starting September 29 for children grades 4–7, every Friday at 4 pm PDT starting October 1 for children grades 4–7, and every Monday at 4:15 pm PDT starting October 4 for children grades 8–11. Stone Soup subscribers get $100 off with coupon “Soup100″! Refugee Project Fundraiser Thank you to all who have contributed thus far! The fundraiser will continue to run until September 30th. Tell your friends! Weekend Project When I was first perusing the September issue of Stone Soup, I was immediately drawn to the title “Autobiography” located inside the art section. Why was a word like that—a word typically reserved for the written arts—describing a piece of visual art? And then I clicked on it. Now my question, though still fundamentally the same, had switched from “Why use this word to describe a work of art?” to “Why use this word to describe this work of art?” I could say that the photograph creates a juxtaposition between what is real and what is reflection, the subject’s “real” foot being more three-dimensional and distinguished than its counterpart. I could say that the dynamic curvature suggestive of dance that exists in the “real” foot is lost in its reflection, a blurrier, straighter image filtered through the barrier of the floor, which in this case takes on the appearance of water, perhaps a symbol for the subconscious. And I could try and cobble these observations together into a cohesive thesis, stating that this photograph questions the nature of the form of autobiography—what is gained, what is lost through its filter? And while I could not give a concrete answer, I could suggest that the relationship between autobiography and the subconscious is that when we sit down to write about ourselves, we can never be objective. Lines are blurred, curves are straightened by our own biased perception. But since I am not the brilliant artist behind this photograph, none of this I can say for sure. However, what I can say for certain is that the title of this photograph elevates it from a beautiful picture to a masterpiece. While Sim Ling Thee’s poem “Words of Snow” doesn’t offer the same insight on titles and the nature of autobiography, I found myself drawn to it the same way I was to Amity’s photograph. What I love most about this poem is its rendering of white space, the delightful suggestiveness of the colon. Is the poem the poem, or is it the space left after the colon, the time spent lingering in the mind of the reader as they can’t help but fill the space with their own imagination? This is a concept frequently explored within the realm of visual art, perhaps most notably in the works of Kazimir Malevich and, later, Mark Rothko. But Sim Ling, in just seven lines, takes something more typically reserved for the visual arts and applies it, effortlessly, to the written word. So, with their respective pieces both Amity and Sim Ling have borrowed from art forms outside of their own in order to elevate their art. Therefore, this weekend I’d like you to either borrow elements of visual art within any of its forms (dance, theater, painting, etc.), or elements of writing within any of its forms (autobiography, fiction, screenwriting, etc.), and meld them into one cohesive form as Amity and Sim Ling did. Then, once you’ve completed this project, I want you to think of a title that does more than describe your art. The title should enhance the experience of your art and complicate its meaning. As always, if you are happy with
How Stories Work-Writing Workshop #10: Dystopias
An update from our tenth Writing Workshop with Conner Bassett A summary of the workshop led by contributors Liam Hancock, 13, and Madeline Kline, 13, held on Saturday June 19, plus some of the output published below For this week’s workshop, we had two special guests. Madeline Kline, 13, who is a part of William’s workshop, and our very own Liam Hancock, also 13, led the workshop on the topic of dystopian stories. The two young writers delved into a thorough definition of Dystopian Fiction, plus several recent popular examples of the genre. Many people reading contemporary fiction are likely familiar with this genre, as high-profile series like The Hunger Games and Divergent are bestselling examples. Maddie and Liam went through several examples, and challenged the writers present at this workshop to create their own story in the same vein. The Challenge: Either create a dystopian world or change an existing story to incorporate some of the dystopian elements discussed. The Participants: Madeline, Simran, Sophie, Svitra, Emma, Aditi, Olivia, Sinan, Harine, Sena, Emi, Noa, Josh, Isolde, Sasha, Samantha, Audrey Svitra Rajkumar, 13,(Fremont, CA) Past Memories Svitra Rajkumar, 13 Rose was running. Although she didn’t know what she was running from and where she was going, she just couldn’t stop running. Her heart pounded like it was going to burst out of her chest. She bent down gasping for breath and trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her brain was working slower than usual and her head felt dizzy from all the continuous running. She stared up at the bright blue sky. It was an unreal blue, like the color of the ocean except burnt. The ground beneath her began to crack and split apart, and soon she was falling. Rose felt as if she had been falling for hours but the scream couldn’t make it out of her mouth. It was stuck halfway up her throat. If you thought about it, falling was actually very peaceful before you reached the ground. How did she even get here in the first place? She couldn’t remember. Where was here? Add that to the extremely long list of things she didn’t know yet. Rose peered at the vivid orange clouds in front of her. The sun was starting to set and she still hadn’t seen any sign of a surface. She was tired of falling, looking at the same scenery. Though it was exotically beautiful it had also become quite boring. She missed the company of her friends and family. Rose wanted to leave this alternate world that she was stuck in. She closed her eyes and the brilliant hued clouds faded from her vision. It was dark. Rose couldn’t see anything. At one point she wondered if her eyes were even open. Was this a dream? Her memories flooded back to her, but they didn’t feel like her own. She felt around with her hands and touched a switch sort of thing. Rose flicked it upward but nothing happened. She waited for a few minutes but the room remained dark. Suddenly, the room filled with a warm glow, and she cringed away from the abrupt brightness. She was in a completely different area. Maybe even a different dimension… Was this a dream of some sort? Rose began to take in her new surroundings. She peered upward at the tall ceiling and the many sparkling chandeliers that dangled from it. Aditi Nair, 13, (Midlothian, VA) The Gift Aditi Nair, 13 A clattering drip-drop of rain frightened even the slightest bit of light. The wind whispered through the crowd, enveloping each individual in fear. They stood, open-eyed, awaiting the announcement–the moment of destiny. Avery was among the citizens. She spotted others brushing off the slightest bit of dust from their clothes, or as some called it, rags. When people from High Lethamade an appearance, they always had to look their best. The town square was usually a lively place with smiles and laughter, but it seemed as if even the weather wasn’t cooperating. “You are all gathered here for one reason, to make Letha a better place, a better home,” the tallest man on the podium elucidated. His eyes hid behind chestnut locks of hair, and everyone could sense the annoyance and lack of energy just from his voice. All knew the lies that he told. Letha was not complete; it was broken and empty. Split between the rich, poor, and the in-between. High Letha would have been a nice place to live if the denizens kept to themselves with humility. Avery rolled her pale blue eyes. It did not matter if the man who spoke forgot his line or if he messed up a little, but if she made the slightest wrong gesture, that would be her death wish. The Board could not stand differences, and no one went against their word. No one. “… living amongst the shadows of both the Rights and the Lefts, you should know where you stand. Thank you all, and I will now let my friend from The Board speak,” he concluded. His speech catalyzed a wildfire of murmurs. Avery nervously scanned the people around her. Everyone was talking about her sister, Aura. Aura was a Left. A rebel. The Board gave her the gift of dance, but her heart was in music. Anyone who went against or ignored their gift was deemed a criminal. Aura was a sweet and loving girl, but no one liked a Left.“ Hello, everyone. Glad you made it to this place. Avery Zecker, please come up to the podium for your gift,“ the member from The Board announced. The whispers halted; it was as if the world paused right before her eyes. Desperately grabbing onto the only sliver of hope, she prayed to receive the gift of Knowledge. “We, The Board, present to you a gift; the gift of prophecy.”
