Become a Blogger at StoneSoup.com
Posted: July 31st, 2009, Author: admin
We are looking for teachers and homeschoolers who would like to blog about their work teaching children 8 to 13. We are particularly interested in those of you who use material by children in your curriculum. You will have your own place on our site so your friends, colleagues, and the general public will be able to follow your work.
Please contact me, William Rubel. Tell me a little about yourself. We would expect you to post at least once a week during your school year. You will be able to post directly into the blog or by email.
First Person Narrative
Posted: July 22nd, 2009, Author: William Rubel
This story, told from the point of view of the first person, is short but wound tight, like a spring. The story flows from beginning to end, concluding in a climax, Piper has succeeded in doing something that is very difficult – getting the reader of a short story to so identify with the character that we, too, feel the relief of the ending, we, too, feel overwhelmed by what is happening and a sense of exhilaration as we read the last words!
Write about an obsession
Posted: July 22nd, 2009, Author: William Rubel
Lots of girls dream of horses. And there are lots of stories about horse-loving girls. What makes this story special, The Horse’s Reins, by Nicholas La Cortiglia, is how Nicholas, through attention to detail, makes Julie into a full-as-life character, a girl with an obsession, but a girl who is also a normal child within a family.
The Young Visiters
Posted: July 9th, 2009, Author: admin
Daisy Ashford’s 1919 Best Seller, The Young Visiters
[where to put links to Amazon? There are new editions, used first editions of $24, and a TV movie.]
The Google Books PDF of the 1919 edition: The Young Visiters
The Young Visiters sold 300,000 copies in 1919! And that was just in Britain.
The introduction to The Young Visiters was written by J. M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan. In Britain, The Young Visiters was published by the prestigious house of Chatto and Windus; in the U.S. by George H. Doran. The book was published without corrections for spelling or punctuation.
The first third of the twentieth century was a period of great ferment in the arts. This is the time when the arts became more abstract, this including painting, sculpture, music and the literary arts as well. Many of the period’s finest writers, particularly in Europe, began complex literary experiments, including jettisoning standard grammatical forms and typographic conventions: The Death of Vergil by the German author Hermann Broch, Finnegan’s Wake by the Irish author James Joyce, and The Sound and the Fury by the American writer William Faulkner are classic examples of authors stretching the limits of standard grammatical form. Publishing children’s writing without corrections in 1919 spoke, not to indulgence or a lapse in standards, but to a courageous look at the achievements of naïve artists, of artists working without a full complement of technical skills, but with something to say and the will to say it.
When we published Crippled Detectives by Lee Tandy Schwartzman in 1978, it was no longer possible, if one wanted the work to be taken seriously, to publish a child’s manuscript virtually as is. Or at least so it seemed to us then, and still does today. We standardize spelling and punctuation in Stone Soup (and did so in Crippled Detectives), although we do leave grammatical innovations, as we did in the work of the Vietnamese boy Huong Nguyen.
As you read The Young Visiters (you may want to download the book, as it is “rarther long,” as Daisy Ashford would have put it, for computer reading), you will find yourself immersed in the world of popular romantic fiction of the first decades of this century. Re-reading The Young Visiters makes me feel much more tolerant of student writing that is heavily influenced by mass culture. It reminds me that we learn by copying; that the desire, and then the will to carry through with the desire to tell a story is the true underpinning that makes all great artists great. The rest of us are those who have made a list of great titles for our books, but haven’t been able to make the books to go along with them!
Bats and Pearls
Posted: July 8th, 2009, Author: admin
Raindrops fell from the dark velvety sky, dropping delicately onto the world below. A few clouds drifted through in the gloom, covering the moon and few stars that had escaped the light of the city that flourished down the river.
Five fruit bats glided through the air, each trying to find enough food for themselves before the rain started to pour down. The only reason they were staying together was that, if one bat found any sign of food, he wouldn’t be able to get it all for himself.
Four of the five bats flapped a considerably long distance from the last one. They were bigger, with longer wings to allow them to fly farther and faster. They flew out every night to look for food, and they were veterans at it.
The fifth bat was a young creature called Seed. This was his first time venturing out of the cave where he was born. He had been smart enough to go with the most skilled fliers to search for food, but he was quickly tiring. His wings felt like lead. He bit his tongue, struggling to keep up with the others, but he was much smaller than any of them. “Hey, wait up!” he gasped. The other bats didn’t pay any attention. The rain came down harder. A bolt of lightening shot through the air, and a crack of thunder followed quickly after.
The older bats dived, but Seed couldn’t tell where they had gone. “I can’t fly!” he cried, his wet wings flapping uselessly. He tumbled from the sky, down toward the ground.
The world snapped out of view, and numbness spread through him. He was unconscious before
he could cry out.
A muskrat sat on her haunches at the edge of the river, carefully scrubbing the spherical pearl in her paws ofany dirt. She didn’t mind the rain pelting down onto her fur. She kind of liked it,actually. Notlike that silly duck that sat hunched up in her nest as if the rain would
burn her.
The muskrat smiled as she lifted the pearl and watched it sparkle, evidently as clean as it would get. She was just aboutto turn and go back to her lodge when something caught her eye. A dark shape floated toward her. She stood on her hind legs to get a better look at it. It was definitely a creature of some sort, but she couldn’t tell what kind it was.
She waded into the river, the current rushing past her faster than it usually went because of all the rain. The strange creature wasn’t moving—it was either dead or unconscious.
The muskrat seized the animal around the middle with her paws and hauled him to shore. She was enthralled about how this creature looked. It had long, thin membranes stretched across its forelegs, which she guessed served as wings. The bat stirred and coughed. He opened his eyes and stared around at the river. The muskrat gently lifted him into her lodge, which was made of grass, sticks, and dried mud. “Who are you?” the bat asked suspiciously.
He wiped his eyes with his “Me? Oh, I’m Azure,” the muskrat said cheerfully. She looked curiously at the bat.“You’re a bat, aren’t you? How’d you get in the river?” The bat ignored her. She shook her head and stashed the pearl, which she realized she was still holding, behind a pile of sticks. “What was that?” the bat demanded. “Nothing,” Azure replied. “I’m going to catch some fish!” She left rather quickly.
The bat stood on his feet and looked around. The inside of the lodge was completely empty of anything of interest, except perhaps the thing that Azure had stashed away. He decided he would investigate
that later.
“Hey, Bat, have you ever tried fish?” Azure asked, crawling back into the lodge with two pink fish wriggling in her paws. “My name is Seed!” the bat protested. “And I only eat fruit!” He lifted his right wing and licked it, attempting to get it dry. “You’re not even going to thank me for saving your life?” the muskrat asked, appalled. Seed ignored her once more.
He stretched and yawned widely, thenclimbed to the ceiling of the lodge and hung upside down, immediately drifting into dreams filled with apples and pears. Azure curled into a ball and fell asleep as well, planning to teach the little bat some manners in the morning.
Seed’s feet slipped. He landed on the ground with a bump, waking instantly. Fuming, he rubbed his furry head and crept to the entrance of the muskrat lodge. It had stopped raining, and the sun was high in the sky. The bat shielded his sensitive eyes. Azure was paddling skillfully through the water, clutching a fish in her mouth. Seed glared at her. More fish! Why didn’t she go get him some fruit?
He turned and went back inside, his stomach growling. The sunlight was hurting his eyes, and he liked the darkness of thelodge much better. He was about to climb back onto the ceiling when he remembered. What had the muskrat hidden? He reached behind the sticks where she hadput it, and to his amazement he drew out a snow-white pearl. Seed grasped it in hiswing tip and marveled at it.
If he broughtthis back with him to his cave, maybe the others would be so impressed that they wouldn’t leave him alone in the rain the next time they left to find food! He couldn’t dwell on this thought very long, though, because at that moment agunshot rang out, startling him so much that he dropped the pearl. There was a scu√ing from outside, and Azure crawled minto her lodge, out of breath and with wide eyes. “A hunter!” she gasped.
She hurried to the far corner of her lodge and crouched there. “Stay in here.” Seed bit his lip. He wanted to stay out of the hunter’s way, but what better chance did he have of making it out of Azure’s home with the pearl? Cradling the beautiful thing in his wing tip, he stepped to the entrance and sneered at the muskrat.“Do you think the other bats will like this?” he asked, displaying the pearl. Azure opened her mouth, closed it, then turned her stunned look into a ferocious scowl.“Give it to me,” she said menacingly.
Seed’s heart quivered with fear, but the sneer sat frozen on his face. “I don’t think I should give it to you.I mean, you have no real use for it. Andthe bats back home will love me for this!” Seed snickered. “You could try to follow me, I guess. But… oh, yeah! Isn’t muskrat fur valuable to hunters?” Azure lunged at the bat, but he was flying away from the lodge before she could blink. “I saved your life, you vile creature!” she screamed.
“I trusted you!” Seed felt a pang of guilt. How strange—he had never felt it before. With the pearl stashed safely in his mouth, he alighted upside-down on a tree branch and watched the lodge to see how Azure was taking this defeat. She wasn’t in the lodge. That pearl was given to one of my ancestors by a sea rat he rescued!” the muskrat snarled as she made her way across the river, heading straight for Seed’stree.
“It was passed down generation to generation!” Seed was so surprised by her actions that he let go of the branch, onlybarely managing to catch hold of the next one down. He began to get frantic. Was she crazy? She was going to get herself killed! But wait, no. There were no hunters near this area. Satisfied, Seed dropped from the tree and took wing in the other direction.
Blam! Blam! The gunshots rang through the forest. The bat let out a startled cry and lost height, checking every part of him
Ocean Memories
Posted: July 8th, 2009, Author: admin
As the notes take me
I try to remember
The ocean
Mom and Dad stand by me
Deeper we go
Jumping big waves
My parents lifting me up to jump
Dolphin fins out in the horizon
Laughing then
Longing now
For the sea to sweep me
Off the ocean floor
As it did a few years ago
If only I could go back
Into childhood memories
See what I did not savor enough
Be there once more
And I go there
As I fall sound asleep
And my dreams carry me back out to sea
Pursuit
Posted: July 8th, 2009, Author: admin
Her pudgy feet ran through the grass
Sparkling in the morning dew
Her footprints left a trail behind her
Impressions on the cold ground
She ran
Her feet stumbling on unfamiliar territory
She tripped and stumbled to the ground
She rose without hesitation and again began her pursuit
Of the beautiful winged creature
Its wings carried it higher
Faster than her little feet could take her
Yet she ran
Willing herself to go faster
She closed the gap
It was nearly in her reach
She sprung from the ground
A single finger brushing a delicate wing
Then it was off and she hit the ground
It fluttered away
Soaring to the sky
While she stayed grounded
Her face misted
Her knees green
But with a smile forming
She accomplished her goal
She touched the butterfly
Love – A Cursed Blessing
Posted: July 8th, 2009, Author: admin
This story was first published in the July/August 2009 issue of Stone Soup. This story is part of a long literary tradition of the literary form called the memoir. In this tradition the author uses the techniques of fiction writing to talk about his or her own life. Akash is especially effective in making us see the story through his own eyes. He does this by telling his story from the “first person.” This is the viewpoint of the character who is the “I.” Akash’s great strength as a writer is his ability to tell his story both from a very personal inside perspective, how he feels, but also to stand back and describe how the other people in the story feel. This offers us a dimensional world view. William Rubel
Introduction
First of all, you must know that my story is not unique. It’s merely the same tale as millions, maybe even billions of human beings; a few thousand hearts broken every day the same way as my life was shattered. Shattered but able to be put back together, piece by piece.
Submitting Creative Writing for Publication
Posted: July 7th, 2009, Author: admin
Stone Soup provides the opportunity for students to learn about the publication process. Our contributors’ guidelines include information about format, response time, and payment. It’s nice when submissions are accompanied by a cover letter; students can learn the proper way to write and format a professional letter. Because of the high volume of submissions received at Stone Soup, it’s a good idea to discuss expectations with your students. Even though a story is very good, it might not be accepted for publication. Editors are just people, like yourself, with personal tastes and opinions. It’s an adventure to send your work off to a magazine—you never know if you don’t try!
Creative Writing Models
Posted: July 7th, 2009, Author: admin
The creative writing that appears in the pages of Stone Soup is the cream of the crop. From the hundreds of submissions we receive every month, only a handful are selected for publication. Family history, the loss of a beloved pet, starting over in a new school—these are just a few of the themes found in Stone Soup. Many teachers tell us they build their creative writing lessons around Stone Soup stories, focusing on such elements as plot, character development, dialogue, sense of place. A story in Stone Soup might remind a student of a similar experience in his or her own life that can form the basis of a story. Poems in Stone Soup are keenly observed, lyrical depictions of nature, the seasons, a special time of day, a life-changing moment. Are the trees bursting with color on a crisp fall day? With a Stone Soup poem as the starting point, take your students outside with pen and paper. Have them sit quietly for a while and write about what they see and feel. Back in the classroom, discuss what makes a good poem. How do your students’ poems compare with the poems in Stone Soup? How can they be better?