first person point of view

Weekly Writing Workshop #7: Friday May 15, 2020 An update from our seventh weekly writing workshop A summary of this week’s project, plus some of the output published below The Stone Soup Weekly Writing Workshop, held on Fridays at 1:00 p.m. PST, is open to all Stone Soup contributors and subscribers during the COVID-19-related school closures and shelter-in-place arrangements. We meet 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 15, the group was focused on Point of View. This week’s presentation and discussion looked at the various perspectives writers can use to tell their stories and present their characters. The story will unfold differently, and the “facts” may even be very different, depending on who is telling the tale. Are we seeing the world and hearing about events through the eyes of an observer or a particular character? Are we in the hands of an all-knowing external narrator telling us about what happened to “him,” “her,” and “them”, or are we being told the tale by “I”, the one to whom it is happening? Are we able to see several points of view, directly from one or two different characters, or can we infer how others might feel by understanding the main character’s point of view? The Writing Challenge: Write from the first person (“I”) point of view. The “I” can be an object, a human, an animal, as long as it is a first-person perspective. 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! Below you can read just a few examples of the great work that came out of this workshop. Lena Aloise, 11Harvard, MA Dearest Laila Lena Aloise, 11 Dearest Laila, Humans are creatures of great complexity. We are, by nature, social beings, but many love solitude, the quiet, empty feeling of being alone. We are builders, innovators, risk takers, engineers. We have an ever increasing span of knowledge, technology that advances by the hour. But some nights, when the local alarm lets out shrill screams, when gunshots pierce the still night air, I wonder how far our species really has come. Will there ever come a day, Laila, when mankind will learn to accept each-other, when all can sleep in peace and live united? These questions whirl angrily around my mind, causing a dull throbbing in my right temple. Physical pain is something I can cope with, but this mental anguish, this feeling of uncertainty is not. When we were young, we used to play in the meadows behind our house, Laila. We would splash in the stream that cut through the lush greenery, braid crowns of wildflowers and pretend we were the queens of everything. What we meant by ‘everything’, I am still unsure. I would not want to rule everything right now, not want to look upon the ruins that are in my possession, not want to see all the innocent subjects who have suffered on soil that I call my own. You were too young to remember what fun we used to have. I wonder if you remember what happiness, what bliss is. It is scarce these days. In my opinion, contentment is not having to worry about foreign invaders, about where your next meal will come from. Laila, you deserve a better world, but all the riches I do not have could not buy that for you. This letter will never reach you. Post is just too expensive nowadays. But Laila, my serene night, my peaceful star, know that I do love you, more than your young mind can conceptualize. And I will still love you, even if I never do see you again, even if the sky falls down on us both. Until we meet again, dear sister, whenever that may be. Your loving sibling, Annalise Analise Braddock, 9 Katonah, NY The Wind Analise Braddock, 9 The wind took me Dipping sorrows around me scaring my deepest fears Never before could anyone realize it The plastered death sure to come out of the wind When the wind was stronger huge, all around eating up my eyes before I could blink Swirling around taking her from me Holding up the strings moving me The wind was ready Turning present to past leads to certain consequences The fear that was told not to fear by one turning to all But my mind resisted The wind still took me Anya Geist, 13Worcester, MA A Day in the Life of a Small Town: told from four perspectives Anya Geist, 13 Today the day dawned bright and fair. The sun was rose-gold, rising from the embers of the night. I stood at the top of the Golden Hill. I stared out into the west. All around me, the grass seemed to be lit aflame with color. I wandered a bit, then sat down, letting the warmth of day wash over my body. Today would be a good day, I decided, for exploring the Great Wood just beyond the edge of town. I’m awake. I don’t want to be awake. But I can’t ignore the noise anymore. Children laughing and playing on the streets outside. Can’t they just stay at home until a decent hour? The sun has only just risen. I deserve some rest, especially since I run the general store. I shout at them through my open window. They scatter like birds that are being pelted with stones. [[The morning is very pretty and it is going to be a sunny day. Mama makes eggs for breakfast and then I go out and I want to play with my friends but a lot of them are still inside and so I knock on their doors and say wake up and then they come outside and then we play