COVID-19

Weekly Writing Workshop #9, Friday May 29, 2020: Reading Aloud!

For the ninth workshop in our first ever season of Stone Soup Writing Workshops, we decided to devote the whole session to readings by our participants. Everyone chose their favourite pieces written during the workshops held over the past 2 months. We had a wonderful session, hearing the authors’ work in their own voices, and remembering the different themes and writing challenges we had faced together over the previous weeks. Thank you to all our great writers–and talented readers aloud! We have loved creating these workshops, meeting with you every Friday, and hearing and reading the incredible work you make, and can’t wait for the summer season to start so we can keep on doing it. From next week, the time of the Workshop will change, so that young people in Europe will be able to join it as well. It will start at 09:00 PST, and all the details will be included in the Daily Creativity emails. And remember, some of the work produced in the workshops is published on our website. You can read it for yourselves–and we highly recommend that you do–by reading the posts reporting on each Workshop. Just type “writing workshop” in the search box, of click on the tag at the bottom of this post, and all of them will come up.

Weekly Writing Workshop #8, Friday May 22, 2020: Stream of Consciousness

An update from our eighth 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 during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements. 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. At our session on Friday May 22, William Rubel, Stone Soup’s founder, talked to the group about Stream of Consciousness, sharing pieces of writing from writers well-known for practicing stream of consciousness (such as James Joyce and Virginia Woolf), some abstract art, and a short clip from a surrealist stream of consciousness film (with a lot of eyeballs!). The group talked about the challenge of really letting go when writing, and then agreed to give it a try… The Writing Challenge: Write a stream of consciousness. The Participants: Ever, Emily, Analise, Liam, Kanav, Peri, Suman, Djin, Ma’ayan, Anya, Lucy, Georgia, Tristan, Gracie, Lauren, Sophia, Allegra, Arianna, Aviya, Michela, Maddie, Silas, Justin, Vishnu, Lewis, Kendyll, Chloe, Gina, Abhi, Laila, Ethan, Shai and more! As usual, our participants took to the challenge with gusto, and wrote some extraordinary, accomplished pieces, some of which you can read below. Anya Geist, 13Worcester, MA Across the Field Anya Geist, 13 There’s a field in front of me. They tell me I have to cross it to get to the other side but I can see bees in between the grasses. I’ve been bitten by a bee before and yesterday a hornet was banging into the wall of our little house. Murder hornets. Do they really kill you? The sun is really bright today. By the time I go anywhere my back is going to be drenched in sweat. I don’t mind sweat so much, especially in the summer when it’s mingled with sunscreen and it seems so seasonal just like Christmas trees and snow in the winter. It’s been a long time since I saw snow I think. Maybe a few years ago when we were back in the North Country. Oh, Gus. There was a time my friends and I sledded down a hill there and nearly crashed into a river like in those Calvin and Hobbes comics. I wonder if there will be Calvin and Hobbes on the other side of the field. I have five books of Calvin and Hobbes. On page 16 of The Indispensable is the one where his dad makes him take a portrait photo. I know so many pages of those books. I think page 220 has something, or maybe 221. And then in the There’s Treasure Everywhere -or maybe The Authoritative (no that’s the one with the antelope)- is the strip of Calvin walking down the staircase. That strip used to hang in the kitchen in the North Country. Oh, Gus. Hardly anyone is like that in the South Country. What will people be like on the other side of the field? They told me I had to cross it if I wanted to see them again. Do I want to see them again? There was a time that they nearly broke our radio because they threw it against the refrigerator. And then the time at the lake with the radio. It’s still fine, though, or it was. Probably in some junkyard in North Country -oh, Gus- now. And then the fridge. That was always a little broken after the incident. Before, I could get ice out of it, but after, it just leaked. A real pain on hot days like this. The grass would always shrivel up and die. The grass here isn’t dead, though, it’s green. Flashing with dew, like pieces of ice. Oh, the ice rink… I wonder if there’s ice on the other side of the field. No, it’d probably get all melted if the sun is like this all the time. Will there be beaches, then? Because I still don’t know if I want to cross the field. Beaches could make it worth it, though. I remember when I was little and we went to beaches in the summer. I would ride my bike -ugh, the gears always cut me- and then try to ride on the sand, but my bike would get stuck. I hate when sand gets stuck in your sandwich, and then you feel all disgusting and grainy. And in the water, when you accidently swallow. I hate the salt. And, it means that sharks can live in the water. I’ve never seen a shark -except at the aquarium (oh, remember when Johnny fell into the penguins habitat)- but I’ve read books and watched movies -not Jaws, but that was mentioned in one of my favorite books. I love fantasy, honestly. And everything to do with mythology. But what were they thinking to send Percy, who’s 12, across the country by himself? Harry Potter makes more sense that way. Still, both series are good. If only magic was real… Will it be real across the field? Only one way to find out, I guess. But wait. I’m not going to rush into this without thinking. Binoculars. I used binoculars at baseball games and once at a play. They’re weird, binoculars. Like a camera but not. Over the field, I can see some mountains in the distance. They’re all faded like, and really tall. Mount Olympus? At any rate, I’m not going to climb a mountain just to see them again. Not like the people in The Sound of Music. Oh, that movie is so good. I probably know every word, to the dialogue and the songs. Fredrick looks really weird with his hair slicked back, though. And the Baroness. Ugh. I know all the words to The Princess Bride, too. That one sounds like music, as musical as The Sound of Music. It’s like a lullaby. The Cliffs of Insanity!

To the Year of 2120, a poem by Ahana Chandra, 11

Ahana Chandra, 11New York, NY To the Year of 2120 Ahana Chandra, 11 Did you know, there was once a storm, rising by the months? It teared apart the lives of dear ones, traveled across the world, and left many fighting for survival. The warriors who went out into the storm, faced the battering of exhaustion while trying to save the lives. Still, they kept on going, kept on fighting for survival. The many hungry people, lining up for food, jobs lost, on the news. They all were fighting for survival. The signs on the windows, the chalk on the streets, all indicating the blossoming hope to encourage the ones fighting for survival. The whispers of the lost echoing in one’s soul, they were sacrificed to the fighting for survival. The quiet voice of the protector, bearing the weight of protection for the beloved, feeling no one would listen to their efforts fighting for survival. The booming voice of authority, assuring the people everything would turn out alright in the fight for survival. Do you ever wonder how we emerged from the ashes? That, you see, is for the future to tell