Title page from the picture book “Silver Carp Lullaby” By Madeline Cleveland, 12 (Belleview, WI), published on the Stone Soup blog A note from Caleb Dear friends, This Saturday newsletter will mark our last through August as we take a summer hiatus. Please be advised that we will continue to send out announcements and information about the fall session Writing Workshops, contests, the Refugee Project, and summer camps. We hope you all have fulfilling, deeply relaxing summers, that you write and create freely, and that you meet and surpass your summer reading goals! Speaking of summer, we have a couple reminders about summer camps. First off, there is a little over one week left to sign up for my summer class on micro fiction and prose poetry, in which you will learn to express the biggest of ideas in the tiniest of forms! You will write multiple self-contained pieces per day, and will finish the class with enough writing to fill up a chapbook. Monday June 27th – Thursday June 30th at 9 – 11 AM Pacific. Scholarships available via this link. There are ten seats left – I hope to see you there! And, as one final reminder, we are offering tickets to the Half Baked Art Collaboration, a special initiative of the Stone Soup Refugee Project and MyStart in recognition of World Refugee Day, 2022. This workshop will allow participants to work on a piece of artwork in collaboration with a student living in Kakuma Refugee Camp, Kenya. The dates for this set of two workshops are June 20th (9 – 11 AM Pacific) and June 22nd (9 – 10 AM Pacific). Please watch the video linked here and embedded below for a brief introduction to MyStart and the artwork from the Kakuma Refugee Camp. In news that is sure to inspire Stone Soup writers, especially those who plan to submit to our fourth annual Book Contest, Oakland teen Leila Mottley’s debut novel Nightcrawling has been chosen for Oprah’s Book Club! Mottley, 19, is the youngest-ever author to be selected. As an aspiring novelist who is also from the Bay Area, I feel particularly inspired by and proud of Mottley’s achievement. In the spirit of summer vacation, I will keep my segment highlighting the art and writing of Stone Soup contributors brief. The image above comes from “Silver Carp Lullaby,” a picture book written and illustrated by Madeline Cleveland, 12. I encourage you all to read it and feel the relaxing pull of the river’s current in Madeline’s soothing song. Sonia Teodorescu’s poem “Nostalgia” is similarly hypnotic, especially while listening to her brilliant reading of it. The first three stanzas pull the reader in with the gentle lull of ebb and flow – “dark, light, dark, light… on, off, on, off” – and from there the poem begins its descent. Stanzas full of fragmented memories, each ending with an elemental refrain – “fire… water… wind… earth… does not forget” – set the table for the poem’s crushing, poignant final line, also its volta – “People don’t remember.” I haven’t stopped thinking about this poem since I first read it a month ago, and I hope its startling precognition lingers with you, too. Till August, Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our June Flash Contest was based on Prompt #207 (provided by contributor Molly Torinus), which asked that participants write a scene (as a story, a poem, or a play) in which the author met their past or future selves. This prompt, a creative reimagining of the classic “write a letter to your future self,” resonated deeply with our participants as we received over 40 submissions! The participants’ brilliant work ranged from a semi-fictional origin story for the author’s pet guinea pigs to a time-bending competition over the homework of the author’s past and future selves to a heart wrenching letter asking that the author’s future self be kinder to their soon-to-be-dead brother. If I may inject myself into this short summary, in all the time I’ve been judging the Flash Contest—since September 2020—I have never seen such a crop of brilliant writing. It took me over two days to ultimately decide the winners and honorable mentions, of which there are six each—one more than the usual five—and even then two more pieces were selected for the regular and Covid blogs. I distinctly remember being blown away by the quality of writing and artwork the first time I encountered Stone Soup—better and more robust than that of my college peers—and my admiration and awe for you contributors has only increased since I became an employee. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to all who submitted and have submitted their work in the past, and please submit again next month! Congratulations to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below. You can read the winning entries for this contest (and previous ones) at the Stone Soup website. Winners “Have We Met?” by Alia Ashworth, 11 (Thousand Oaks, CA) “The Visitor from the Stars” by Hanbei Bao, 11 (Lakewood, CO) “Homework Thieves” by Wilson Chen, 10 (Portland, OR) “Last Vacation” by Caroline Gao, 11 (Milpitas, CA) “The Interview” by Savarna Yang, 13 (Outram, New Zealand) “Piano Can Transcend Time” by Joycelyn Zhang, 12 (San Diego, CA) Honorable Mentions “Future” by Sophie Li, 11 (Palo Alto, CA) “The Life of a Guinea Pig” by Nova Macknik-Conde, 10 (Brooklyn, NY) “Time’s Reminders” by Audrey Ren, 11 (Linwood, NJ) “Me Too” by Daniel Shorten, 11 (Mallow, Republic of Ireland) “Déjà vu” by Eliana Wang, 13 (Potomac, MD) “A Second Chance” by Hannah Wu, 12 (Washington DC) For the Stone Soup blog “White Lilacs, Purple Lilacs” by Cayleigh Sukhai, 12 (Manitou Beach, Saskatchewan, Canada) For the Stone Soup Covid blog A Strange Dream by Melody You, 11 (Lake Oswego, OR) From Stone Soup June 2022 Nostalgia By Sonia Teodorescu, 13 (Tampa, FL) Dark, Light, Dark, Light— The clouds float across the sky, sometimes covering up the sun as they go. Dark, Light, Dark— Illuminating the room, then bringing it to a gentle shade, Making shadows dance on the paper drawings tacked to the
Newsletter
Saturday Newsletter: June 11, 2022
Nest Building (Panasonic Lumix DC-ZS200) By Sage Millen, 13 (Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada), published in Stone Soup June 2022 A note from Emma I want to start off this week’s newsletter with some good news and congratulations: Anya Geist’s novel, Born on the First of Two, was selected as a finalist in the 2022 Next Generation Indie Book Awards in the Young Author (Under 25) category. We are so proud of Anya and thrilled this wonderful novel is getting some recognition. Take this as a reminder to add Anya’s book to your summer reading list, and to be on the lookout for new copies with the finalist sticker on the cover! This also reminded me that I have been meaning to share a bit of book news with you all for some time now. In addition to my work as editor of Stone Soup and as a writer, I also work with high school students on their college application essays. And last spring, I published The Complete College Essay Handbook, a practical guide to writing college essays that I co-wrote with my colleague. Writing a practical guide was fun, and also more challenging than I expected. The most rewarding part (aside from being done, hah!) was that putting my process and advice down on paper not only reinforced what I already knew but actually pushed me to refine and improve our process. Writing remains the most powerful I know for thinking through ideas and improving upon them–whether they are the loftiest or the most trivial. Anyway, I am proud of the book and ask you to please consider recommending it to any teenage friends or relatives about to embark on this process, or to any high school English teachers or counselors you may know. Finally, since the subject of this newsletter has been books, I want to take the opportunity to remind you all that our 2022 Book Contest is still open for submissions. It closes on the 22nd of August. I know many of you began your books weeks ago, but if you are still interested–it’s not too late to start working on one to submit this year. We always focus on the fact that good writing takes time and multiple drafts. And sometimes it does. But sometimes it comes very quickly, and that doesn’t make it less or worse than something that takes more time! “First thought, best thought,” as Allen Ginsberg used to say. More than once, I have written something quickly then revised it and revised it, only to realize after a few months that the first draft was the better version. (I am not against revision by any means; many times, I have had the reverse experience–of completely rewriting in revision.) So, for those of you who are curious and excited at the possibility of writing a book–it’s not too late! Happy writing! Anthropology of the Everyday: The Art of Creative Nonfiction, June 13-16 with Laura Moran Do you like writing about your life experiences? Would you like to learn some techniques for making your nonfiction writing more compelling and creative? In this class you will learn a method of personal writing, sometimes used by anthropologists, that combines storytelling with writing about the details of your own everyday life. Students will practice a variety of Ethnographic Writing techniques, from self-reflection, to gathered observation, interviews, and investigation. Students will also participate in an artist-led activity to create a piece of illustrated artwork of everyday life, designed to accompany their ethnographic writing. Refugee Project Half Baked Art Collaboration, June 20 & 22 This workshop will allow participants to work on a piece of artwork in collaboration with a student living in Kakuma Refugee Camp, Kenya. The dates for this set of two workshops are 6/20/22 (9-11am PT) and 6/22/22 (9-10am PT). From Stone Soup June 2022 The Hummingbird Whisperer By Michael Chao, 13 (Rancho Palos Verdes, CA) It was a lazy day in the month of May when I got that so-memorable phone call from my sometimes-bothersome twin sister, May. “Michael, hurry, hurry, come over!” screamed my sister, who was practicing tennis with Mom at a nearby tennis court. “Why? I’m busy!” I shouted back. “There’s two baby birds on the court. I think they’re still alive.” My ears perked up, and instantaneously my irritating sister became my wonderful sibling. “I’m coming right now!” I dragged Dad off the couch and made him drive me to the tennis courts. When we arrived, I saw Mom and May standing over two orphaned rufous hummingbirds, barely a week old. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was my first time seeing hummingbird nestlings. They were only about the size of a stick of gum, pink-colored, and naked, with eyes closed. They shivered and ruffled what little down they had, trying to shelter from the ocean breeze. Delicately, I cupped them into the palm of my hand while using my other hand to block the wind. It was so nerve-racking to hold something so small and delicate. After gently placing the nestlings into a small insect cage padded with tissue paper, I began looking for their nest, hoping to find their mother, who was probably frantically seeking her young ones out. Along the boundary of the tennis court was a ten-foot-tall chain-link fence with ivy covering it from top to bottom. The ivy had grown thick, and probably hadn’t been cut back in years, which would make finding their home, a nest about the size of silver dollar, an almost impossible task. But the “needle in a haystack” chance of finding their nest didn’t deter me. I desperately wanted these little nestlings to live. I searched everywhere—every branch, nook, and cranny of ivy along the borders of the tennis court. After a couple of nerve-racking hours, I finally found the nest. It was located high up near the tree canopy, where neither my father, who is six-foot, three inches tall, nor I could reach. But mother bird was nowhere to be found. I
Saturday Newsletter: June 4, 2022
My Dream (pastel) By Leticia Cheng, 9 (San Jose, CA), published in Stone Soup June 2022 A note from Laura Happy summer! I hope everyone is enjoying the bustle of activities that usually accompanies the end of the school year and is looking forward to some relaxation in the summer sun. This week, I would like to draw your attention to “Two Poems,” by Iris Chalfen. Iris’s first poem, “Springring,” is light and playful, like sunshine itself, while her second, “Sleep,” offers a visceral and sumptuous depiction of giving oneself over to a feeling-sleep, in this case! Despite their brevity, both of Iris’s poems make such effective use of language, drawing on all our senses, so that we know just the feeling she’s describing. Over this past week, I have become quite the expert on sleep! I have Covid (a good reminder that this illness is still very much with us, despite the warmer weather and longer days). Thankfully, being fully vaccinated and boosted, my symptoms are relatively mild. But I know just what Iris is describing when she writes, “We threw ourselves into a lingering feeling. I held that feeling for a moment…” Both of Iris’s poems do a beautiful job of playing with language in unexpected ways, but ultimately drawing us into something familiar and recognizable. Leticia Cheng’s pastel, “My Dream” provides an evocative and vivid complement to these pieces. To me, it feels both fantastical and familiar. For this weekend’s activity, I invite you to use Iris’s poems as an example and write a brief piece of writing that draws heavily upon sensory images. Invite your reader to call upon the imagery you hint at in vivid detail by using a few well-chosen words that draw upon the five senses. As always, if you would like to share your work with an audience of peers, please submit it to us via Submittable! Refugee Project Half Baked Art Collaboration This workshop will allow participants to work on a piece of artwork in collaboration with a student living in Kakuma Refugee Camp, Kenya. The dates for this set of two workshops are 6/20/22 (9-11am PT) and 6/22/22 (9-10am PT). Sign up here! In closing, June 20th is World Refugee Day. I invite you to take some time this month to explore the wealth of material displayed on the Refugee Project web portal. The writing and artwork you’ll find here was all created by your peer artists and writers from refugee backgrounds. Until next time, Anthropology of the Everyday: The Art of Creative Nonfiction, June 13-16 with Laura Moran Do you like writing about your life experiences? Would you like to learn some techniques for making your nonfiction writing more compelling and creative? In this class you will learn a method of personal writing, sometimes used by anthropologists, that combines storytelling with writing about the details of your own everyday life. Students will practice a variety of Ethnographic Writing techniques, from self-reflection, to gathered observation, interviews, and investigation. Students will also participate in an artist-led activity to create a piece of illustrated artwork of everyday life, designed to accompany their ethnographic writing. Iris Chalfen, 8 (Cambridge, United Kingdom) From Stone Soup June 2022 Springring & Sleep By Iris Chalfen, 8 (Cambridge, United Kingdom) Springring Whitewrite Flyhigh Windwing Blossombright Songsoul Mebe Beebold Sleep The calm, warm light filled the room, Our voices, whispers. Laughter untangling into a soundless sleep. We threw ourselves into a lingering feeling. I held that feeling for a moment, Then hid it, Hid it so it could be safe, Hid it so I could carry on, on, In my deep, deep sleep. To read more from the June 2022 issue, click here! 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’s advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
