An update from our twenty-second Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Saturday September 19, plus some of the output published below Dragonflies have amazing eyes that refract and can see in multiple directions all at once. The images they see are thousands of times more complex than what other creatures can see. This workshop, devised and brought to us by Jennifer Rinterknecht and Denise Donnio, both educators based in France, was designed to get us thinking about how our minds and our writing can be more like a dragonfly’s eye: can we capture simultaneously different voices, different narratives, and the extraneous thoughts that are going on while we are writing? Can those random distractions become part of the narrative, like the texts or notes we pass in class become part of the story of the class being taught or the chat in Zoom becomes part of our Workshops? They presented a few examples of this idea of layered narration, and suggested a simple way of trying to capture this as we wrote–by using two columns, one for the narrative that obeys the conventional rules (Grammar A) and one for the stray thoughts and seemingly irrelevant other thoughts that occur (Grammar B) while writing in the first column. As always, our workshop participants rose to the challenge, with some innovative and impressive work. In some, the distraction became the narrative; in others the layers were in many dimensions, from different voices, media, forms and perspectives. Congratulations everyone who read, wrote and took part, and thank you Denise and Jen for an inspiring workshop! The Writing Challenge: Write a parallel narrative–one in standard form, one in whatever form it comes. The Participants: Nova, Rithesh, Katie, Charlotte, Georgia, Peri, Anya, Simran, Scarlet, Liam, Maddie, Jonathan, Olivia, Tilly, Samantha, Janani, Helen, Madeline, Ella, Chloe, Ma’ayan, Keyang, Dana, Charlotte, Cassandra, Ava, Jayden, Maggie, Sophie, Enni, Juniper, Sierra, Elbert, Hera, Nami, Dhesh, Sophia, James, Ever, Emma, Gia, Sophia, Eden. Liam Hancock, 12Danville, CA All That They Know Liam Hancock, 12 All That They Know I heard the idiot was messing w/ u again today. 🤨 Yeah, and? Lol, idk. Just saying, I heard. Lol. Ok. Want to video chat? Idk if I have time, but I can check. If not, me and the boiz are heading to the park later. Wanna come? What ⏰??? 10:30, 11:00, something like that. 🤷♂️ If I can sneak out, sure. Ok. Ok. Hey, Little Mikey just told me he tried beating you up???🤜 The idiot? Who else would it be? Idk. Did u put up a fight??? Sure I did. And? And what? And did u win? How do u define winning? Ummm…. winning? It’s pretty self explanatory. Well then I guess I did. Are u coming to the park later? Why’d u ditch us last night? If I can sneak out I’ll come. Lol. Lol, try to see u then. 😂 All That They Need To Know I heard he was fighting w/ u again today. 🤣 Like it was a fight at all. He grins, leaning back on his bed. The phone is propped haphazardly in his hands. This kid, right? I can’t believe he honestly thinks I like him. Yeah, and? What do u mean, it wasn’t a fight? He frowns, massaging the crimson red scar painting his neck. What the heck? Lol, idk. Just saying, I heard. And I heard that he beat u into a pulp. He laughs softly to himself. Stop it. He tries shutting off his phone, but the next text comes too quickly. He can’t not read it now. Want to video chat so I see how fast I can send u running back into ur room again? His old record is just seconds No, and I won’t go to the park either. I’m done w/ u and ur stupid friends. He bashes the phone on the side of the couch and shoves his head into the pillow. Hey… sry about that the other day. Idk what got into me. A stupid grin plays across his face. Back for Round 2. I’ve had a bad day. Please. He lays listlessly on the floor of the basement, the phone tangled in blankets. The idiot fought u again? Little Mikey told me. On the other end of the video chat, the idiot feeds him lines. Little Mikey’s an idiot too. But yeah. Yeah, the idiot fought me. The box of Band-Aids lays overturned and empty on the mangy carpet in front of him. And did you win? Lol 😝 like u would Somehow, he isn’t laughing this time as the idiot does on the other line. No. And I never do. Congrats on ur victory. He gulps, watching as the other end of the text goes silent. Hello? Hello? Hello? Are you there? I’m sorry. Hello? Scarlet He, 9Scarsdale, NY Japanese Food Festival Scarlet He, 9 Grammar A: The streets were filled with people swarming to get food from the brilliant, bright and beautiful carts. Smells of onigiri, a yummy rice ball with seaweed, ikayaki, a grilled, salty octopus on a stick, and sushi, rice wrapped with seaweed and topped with seafood fill the air. I bite into a piece of pickled radish from my bento. A salty, sour taste fills my mouth with joy. I take a sip from my bottled ramune soda, a spicy type of soda that gets its spice from a ramune ball. My arms are piled with towering food bowls. The smell is so delightful that I want to take off my nose and make it grow wings to fly around and smell the food. Then, I hear a rumbling. Time seems to stop as the bowls all came crashing down. A miso soup bowl splatters on my head, leaving my hair a miso mess. My clothes are splattered with ikayaki sauce. Everyone is looking at me now. What a great day. Grammar B: The smell of asari miso soup fills my nose! I jump
William Rubel
Writing Workshop #21: Metaphor
An update from our twenty-first Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Saturday September 12, plus some of the output published below We were so happy to be back this week for the first in our second series of Writing Workshops, and the twenty-first one we have held this year! This time, our founder William Rubel focused on a very useful figurative tool for writers: metaphor. We started with two simple and common ideas–that a man is a rat and time is money–as examples for discussion. We watched some movie clips and read some specific examples from literature that displayed the power of stating that a character IS another object, animal, or force of nature, from Juliet as the sun in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, via the “spider” Drummle in Dickens’ Great Expectations to Hagrid’s “mane” of hair expressing his lion-heartedness throughout Harry Potter, as well as describing his shaggy look. After half an hour of writing Liam, Simran, Gia, Anya, Peri and Elbert read their work to the group for feedback from William. We heard a selection of stories, long and short, and poems, including haikus; several were powerful responses to the ongoing wildfires in California, and all of them were rich with metaphor and creative imagery. Some of those we heard, and more written during the class, are published below. What a tremendous start to the new season! The Writing Challenge: Write a poem or story that builds and develops at least one strong metaphor. The Participants: Nova, Rithesh, Katie, Charlotte, Georgia, Peri, Anya, Simran, Scarlet, Liam, Maddie, Jonathan, Olivia, Tilly, Samantha, Janani, Helen, Madeline, Ella, Chloe, Ma’ayan, Keyang, Dana, Charlotte, Cassandra, Ava, Jayden, Maggie, Sophie, Enni, Juniper, Sierra, Elbert, Hera, Nami, Dhesh, Sophia, James, Ever, Emma, Gia, Sophia, Eden. Dhesh, 11Fulshear, TX Metaphor Dhesh, 11 His beard was like tangled wires, His eyes were dark, similar to the night sky, His hair was shaped like a hair dryer, Why is he dressed up like this to a Prom, I thought? But, it turned out, he was dancing with my mom! Anya Geist, 14Worcester, MA Leaves of Autumn Anya Geist, 14 Leaves twirled through the air, their edges curled as if singed by fire, their vibrant colors beaming as though they were fire. They touched the ground with the grace of a ballet dancer, and then sat silent, waiting for the wind to blow them along. In the night, their color faded with the rest of the day, and they were merely dark silhouettes, phantoms that crept up from the ground. The wind would creep down the roads, through the bony fingers of bare tree branches that made an otherworldly glow in the rare light of the moon, and the chilly breezes would, on occasion, ruffle a few leaves, causing them to crinkle and scrape the sidewalks as they rolled away; a truly ghostly noise. Day dawned, and the leaves burned brighter than ever. They were the sun, strong and shining in the light of daybreak, in the crisp freshness that fell over the world. Any notions of ghosts, of spirits that haunted the world, had been blown away, just as that eerie wind was replaced by fresh gusts that smelled of apple cider and Thanksgiving food. Children giggled gleefully as they walked to and from school, stomping on fallen leaves, catching them as they flew through the air, jumping in neat little piles that blew apart at the slightest touch. Leaves were the harbinger of fall, of that magical time filled with shiny, crunchy apples freshly picked off of trees; of orange Jack-o-lanterns carved into complex patterns, lit by a flickering candle; of all of the good things that made their eyes shine in the cooling weather. And so autumn went, with the leaves that flew gracefully to the ground. Peri Gordon, 10Sherman Oaks, CA Desert Prison Peri Gordon, 10 Water is gold in the desert It’s a superhero Or the last ticket to the show that is life. I’ve been lost here for days A prisoner in an endless jail. The desert is a jail. The lack of water is the executioner. I am at its mercy. The search for water is my final trial. Then what is water? Water is the sign that I am decidedly innocent That my life will be spared. But even if I find it I doubt I’ll ever escape this prison. This desert. Then water just means I stay here longer Lonely and afraid Free from the executioner But not from the jail. Liam Hancock, 12Danville, CA Running From Time Liam Hancock, 12 He runs with his sneakers kicking up gravel, his knees pumping, his hips and chest drawn out with sharp intakes of breath. He is a free man, he is a slave who has broken his shackles and left them in my hands. He is a butterfly who has first sprouted his wings. Once before, he lived as a creature, squirming and writing in my fingers. Could hardly get out of his own way. But he’s liberated now. And is that a cause for celebration? Because I’d kept him in chains for a reason. I’d firmly gripped the keys in my hands, the locks and bolts hanging listlessly from my fingers. Back and forth, back and forth they dangled, like time pressing continuously forward and yet hesitating and moving back again. Time, when he was locked away, was of no value to me. With one variable of Ian’s murder off the table, I had ample opportunity to solve the equation. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I needed to let him go. I had the numbers. I had the memories, the moments. I had everything I needed to uncover him and bring justice, a judge in my black, velvety gown hammering the mallet down onto the broad oak desk. Guilty. Somehow, someway, I knew he was. I had the numbers. I had the equation. But he had me. And I have to face
Weekly Writing Workshop #20: Character Sketches Part II
An update from our twentienth Weekly Writing Workshop! A summary of the workshop held on Friday August 14, plus some of the output published below This week, the last in our first series of Writing Workshops, our founder William Rubel returned to an earlier theme: character sketches. Last time we worked on character (Workshop #14), we focused on giving a sense of character through description of their appearance. In this week’s workshop we were less concerned about what they look like physically than who the character really is—who are his or her friends—what is his or her inner self? We also wanted to provide links from the character into the the larger story they are part of. Before embarking on our own writing, William and the group analysed the description of the character Captain Cuttle, from Charles Dickens’ novel Dombey and Son, given in an eccentric nineteenth-century encyclopaedia of Character Sketches from works of fiction. In just one paragraph, the writer revealed details of Captain Cuttle’s personality, behaviour, mannerisms, accent, clothes and demeanour as perceived by others, and in doing so also revealed parts of the story he was involved in. The Writing Challenge: Write a character description that tells us more about the character than what they look like. The Participants: Nami, Georgia, Simran, Ella, Kanav, Maddie, Madeline, Peri, Samantha, Sasha, Shel, Tilly, Vishnu, Aditi, Suman, Shreya, Lena and more… See below for some of the great writing that came out of this week’s workshop! Peri Gordon, 10Sherman Oaks, CA Lonely Peri Gordon, 10 Lila Sale had only a few friends and never made any new ones. Her trademark was a sigh, a sad, downcast sigh. She was the youngest in her family, with three cruel siblings who couldn’t care less about her. They called her “Lonely,” plus other mean names. “Get over here, Lonely!” “You’re a clumsy idiot, Lonely!” Lila would come to school dragging her feet, trudging slowly through the halls, finding those rare friends of hers, who, like her, really only moped. A lot of the other children, the most popular especially, were similar to Lila’s siblings in character, and she was truly afraid of those ones. The worst was when she ran into her actual siblings (who were popular themselves) and paid the price a million times over, embarrassed and melancholy and even lonelier, for her friends would have fled the scene already. “What’cha doin’, Lonely?” “Where’d your little friends go, Lonely?” Whenever Lila saw anyone who was happy, she would always murmur, “I wish I was like that.” Kanav Kachoria, 12Potomac, MD Coach Adams Kanav Kachoria, 12 There once was a football coach for the Eastern Shore Eagles named Coach Adams. Everyone at the high school loved him. It was practically impossible for someone in Eastern Shore to not know him, unless they lived under a rock. Coach Adams was a very fun but strict coach. The high school players always used to tease and call him bittersweet depending on his personality. One day he was the jolliest man in the world with his pearly white teeth smile, and then another day out of the blue he was as fierce as a lion. It didn’t make any sense. Coach had some wrinkles on his peach-colored face, but not a lot. He always wore a Nike green cap with the yellow logo of Eastern Shore on top of his head, covering his white hair. Also, he wore a blue and green jacket with the high school’s logo on it every single day. At the Eastern Shore High football games, he chewed his minty Polar Ice gum like crazy on the sidelines, saying that it was the best gum out there. Coach Adams’s main quotes were to “never give up” and to “have confidence in yourself” since that is what you need in football and anything in life. With all the unbelievable actions Coach Adams did, he will go down as one of the greatest football coaches in history and will be remembered as the Eastern Shore Eagles football coach greatly. Madeline Kline, 12Potomac, MD Bad Boy Madeline Kline, 12 My brother is extremely popular, being friends with almost everyone. At school, I always notice a huge crowd of people either next to him or behind him, trying to get a chance to talk to him. Obviously I’m his best friend, but he treats everyone at school like a best friend. He’s very handsome, with dark hair (usually ruffled) and bright eyes. His favorite jacket is worn so often that you can’t even tell what the words on it say, with all the stains. Still, he refuses to let Mom wash it. He’s a huge procrastinator, and whenever he’s asked to do something, responds with “Just give me a minute,” or “Just let me finish this.” He never manages to do what he was asked to do, to begin with. He also treats me like I’m his equal, even though I’m three years younger. Often he joins me in playing video games and loses repeatedly. It doesn’t matter to him, though. Whenever he asks to play, and I point out how easily I win, he says “I like a challenge.” And that he does. He’ll do anything he’s challenged to do, no matter how outrageous or how much trouble it will get him in. Therefore, he gives off a “Bad boy” image that makes all the girls his age cling to him like he actually gives them a second thought. Zack isn’t into girls, though. I don’t know how I figured out, or when. I don’t even know if Mom and Dad know. I think they must, but they don’t give any indication that they know. Someday, though it’ll come out. Secrets never stay secret for long when you’re the most popular boy in the school. Shreya Sharath, 11Cohoes, NY Penelope Fiddlesticks Shreya Sharath, 11 Many people have this fear about being the new student in the class, but this girl walked with her head held up high. Her name
