Young writers with big twists

During the summer, I teach a creative writing camp. During the camp, I introduce kids to a book from early in my authorial career, 5-Minute Daily Practice: Writing. It consists of story prompts for teachers to use with their students, and unlike other writing prompts books I’ve seen, it includes not only story beginnings but also story endings.

Last year, one of my camper-writers did something very clever.

I showed the kids two of the story endings:

This proves that ordering a pizza is not always as easy as it’s supposed to be.

Only two of us had gone in, but three of us came out.

I asked them to pick one and write a story that could lead up to it. The camp routine: everyone reads aloud everything they write. 

One of the girls (about age 11) began to share her story with the group. It took place in a pizzeria (as did the stories of several others), so it was obvious which of the two endings she’d chosen…

…or so we thought. At the last minute, she hurled a curveball (or tossed a pizza in the air)—she seamlessly ended with the other line. It was a brilliant bait and switch.

This year, another student (age 12) also surprised me and the other campers—perhaps even topping what I heard last year. His story was about a pregnant woman who was ordering a pizza when she went into labor, which, of course, made completing the ordinarily simple task considerably more challenging—hence leading to the ending line about pizza. 

But it also cheekily and naturally led to the other ending line…and this camper indeed used both.

Bravo, young writers!

Aftermath of the UFO crash in Tanzania

The week of 1/20/14, in connection with Writing Week, I had the honor of speaking with the students at the International School of Tanganyika in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

The night before my first day, something resembling a UFO appeared (crashed?) on the grounds.

Naturally, this created quite a stir.

Some kids were skeptical. Some were scared.

Some started investigations.

Some did research and found that something similar happened in London not long ago. Some took this as proof that both incidents were real…and possibly connected.

Wonderfully, many were inspired to write—stories, newspaper-style articles, emails to NASA.

Here are some of the overheard reactions:

• “THERE ARE ALIENS!” (grade 1 student)
• “I can read the writing. It says ‘Four women jump off a cliff.’” (grade 2)
• “It has ‘Made in China’ written on it.” (grade 3, about “alien” writing)
• “I think it may be an evil thing from another universe come to destroy us all. That or to save us all. It is hard to say.” (grade 3)
• “Is it Turkish?” (grade 5)
• “It would have made a bigger hole if it really came from high up.” (grade 5)
• “It’s a mineral digger that’s come up from underground.”
• “Have you seen God?”
• “I think this is a scam!”
• “It’s not real. It’s all a ploy by the teachers to get us to write.” (grade 5)

For the sake of argument, let’s say it was indeed such a ploy. Could/would an American school create a scenario like this to prompt kids to write?

Generally speaking, I’m afraid the answer is no.

And for the same reason some books are banned.

What happened in Tanzania shows that a “UFO” on school property would excite and motivate many students…but if it could scare even one—if even one parent complained—that would be enough for some schools to nix the idea.

And that is unfortunate. As we all know, you can’t please everyone. Whatever happened to the greatest good for the greatest number? Fire drills (and now, intruder drills) are scary for some kids and schools aren’t giving up those. Different good intention, same principle.

I’m a parent myself; I see that a little fear (at any age) is a good thing. It challenges us. It helps us analyze. It helps us overcome. And it may inspire us to write. All of which we want for our kids.

Therefore, I enthusiastically encourage schools in America (and everywhere else, of course) to consider crashing a UFO on your grounds. Tie it into your own Writing Week. 

Tie it into an author visit. 

Tie it into nothing.

In any case, the benefits far, far outweigh any risk.

Tanzania school, day 1: UFO crash

My first day of speaking at a school in Tanzania was hugely memorable on two counts.

First, because I was speaking at a school in Tanzania.

Second, because the night before I arrived, a UFO crashed on the grounds.

The story:

On 1/20/14, I presented to four groups on my first of four days at the International School of Tanganyika in Dar es Salaam—one large assembly and three humor workshops.
 

gym in which the group assembly was held

 spacious library in which the workshops were held

This library so far from home held many reminders of home—books by (and, in at least one case, about) author/illustrator friends of mine:

(Not pictured: books by other friends including Jenni and Matt Holm and Chris Barton.)

Seen around the campus:

 

I loved the school and the kids seemed wonderfully engaged during my talks. 

But I was not the biggest buzz on campus.

It’s hard to compete with evidence of alien life.

Upon arriving (just shy of 7:30 a.m.), we saw a phalanx of heavy-duty guards standing around something covered by a tarp and blocked off by yellow caution tape:

I heard kids speculating it was a fallen satellite, a bomb, or a big crab…any of which would have been scary in their own ways.

At some point during my assembly, the tarp came off and the jaws dropped:

Because it sure looked like a UFO. And I had just talked about Superman, who was sent to Earth in a small spaceship...not unlike what this resembles.

Part of the ground around it was scorched. The kicked-up soil was reddish, different than the brown dirt underneath. Some kids even reported seeing something white moving inside, and some found green goo on the ground nearby.

Some brave boys took soil samples.

By day’s end, even parents were crowding around the mysterious, metallic object. 

We were told scientists would be coming out later this week to examine it.

One scientist, however, had been on the scene from the start. She is in 1st grade:

Soon after the staff and kids learned of the object, one enterprising teacher put up canvases nearby for people to write what they thought it was. The answers are fascinating and often funny:

  

I am hoping the mystery will be solved by my last day here…

1/29/14 addendum: What happened next.

The UFO that crashed into a London playground...

...was not what it seemed. And what it really was is almost as cool.

It was a writing prompt.

I know a thing or five about that.

What happened in the UK can happen here. Should happen here.

Educators take note!

10/8/14 addendum: This inspired a similar experiment at the international school in Tanzania I spoke at in 1/14.

Easter Island in my mind

In March 2012, I went to Easter Island, fulfilling a longtime dream.

Several weeks afterward, I was reminded of something I wrote for a Scholastic writing prompts book that was published in 2003:

It’s no surprise that I had Easter Island on the mind nearly ten years before I made it there; as I said, it had been a longtime dream.

But I always marvel when I realize what I have forgotten about what I’ve done, especially when it relates to something I love.

Beginnings and, for the first time, endings

One of my first books for Scholastic was 5-Minute Daily Practice: Writing:

Yes, that title—and that cover—don’t scream “Must-have”!

(I'd named it something else and I remember not knowing they'd changed the title until I got my author copies.)

It’s a book of story prompts—tools intended to motivate writers (especially ones who may struggle to come up with an idea).

For example:

Just as my dad was about to light a fire, something flew out of our chimney and into the family room...

That’s obviously a one-liner but some in the book go on for a few short paragraphs:

Is My Underwear Showing?

I’m not embarrassed if somebody sees my underwear. For example, I don’t mind when someone sees a pair in the laundry or on my floor. I’m only embarrassed if somebody sees my underwear on me.

One day, everyone saw my underwear on me.

We had an assembly in the cafeteria. A very funny rock band was singing about American history. In between the songs, they would call up volunteers to act out famous events.

I didn’t want to be called, which of course meant that I was. The band wanted my help in a skit about the Boston Tea Party, the night when patriots dressed as Native Americans and dumped cases of tea into Boston Harbor to protest British taxes. I was a patriot, and my job was to bend over, pick up a “crate” (there weren’t really crates on stage, but we pretended), throw it into the water, then repeat.

As I did this, I didn’t feel that my pants were a little too loose. After I threw my fifth or sixth crate, I turned to pick up another when suddenly there was a huge laugh from the audience because...

Whether the prompt is short or longer, it’s up to the student to complete the story.

My mom didn’t believe in coloring books. She wanted her kids to confront a blank page and create something from nothing. It’s a philosophy I have adopted with my kids, though, at times, I do allow them to color within the lines.

Story prompts are to writing as coloring books are to art. So I was hesitant to write this book. I didn’t want to compromise my inherited principle.

I decided I’d do it, but with a twist: some of the story prompts are not story openings but rather story endings. Therefore, instead of continuing after the dot dot dot, the writer will write up until the dot dot dot.

For example:

...We decided to paint the tree house again—but this time, any other color besides red.

And:

...After that, Jack said he was through accepting dares.

I’ve not heard of another book (before or since) that has done this. While it doesn’t compare with a blank page, it is a kind of exercise that kids presumably haven't seen, so I told myself that made it okay. Because of this quirky feature, I still mention the book in writing workshops today.

Both kinds of prompt require imagination. And both call upon skills in areas of reading comprehension, cause and effect, and inference.

But the story endings seem more like mysteries to be solved, don’t they?

With a beginning, you can go in most any direction. That’s great for fostering creativity. With an ending, you can, too, but you always have to end up with the ending. That’s great for what seems like deductive reasoning.

Maybe I’m over-analyzing (and if so, badly), but perhaps someone out there can better articulate how the mind works differently when writing into an ending as opposed to writing after a beginning.