Writing Workshop – Page 5 – Blackbird and Company

Posted on January 25, 2015 by BBCo

Breaking the Rules in Good Company

I have been discouraged when people don’t like my writing—when people don’t like my voice.

I'm sure this is true for all writers.

The truth is, it’s hard to be yourself when people disagree with what you personally find interesting and beautiful.

Authenticity is a lesson that is almost never taught in school but is integral to being an artist. The truth is, sometimes, people won’t like your writing.

Now, sometimes that friction between differing opinions is definitely healthy and necessary. Dozens of blog posts could be written about the value of knowing the rules before you break them, and the importance of having the humility to listen to other artists’ advice.

But, sometimes, when the choice between two kinds of line break or two uses of allusion seem substantially subjective. As writers, we have a choice between doing what people approve of and doing what they find aesthetically satisfying. One lesson that students need to learn is that, throughout their writing careers, they will have a choice between being recognized and having painfully genuine integrity.

And that is the real-life choice between being normal and being divergent, the choice between being a people-pleaser and being a literary mutant.

The good news is that the greats were often literary mutants. Literary mutants who, no doubt, knew the rules and broke them well. Think Walt Whitman, e. e. cummings, Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen—all of these people were literary freaks when they first unveiled their writing. Each of these writers faced critics who thought that their writing was careless, boring, or just plain weird. These writers were extremely talented and willing to take risks, but that means that they were also ahead of their time. These writers were the hippies, the revolutionaries, the weirdos, the outliers.

But it’s hard for me to remember that being a hippie is ok when people tear my writing to pieces in the workshop.

So I have a very important question.

Again.

To what extent are we willing to let young writers raise their voice?

-Constance

Posted on November 15, 2014 by BBCo

A Telephone of Cardboard.

Thanksgiving is a terrific time to connect with friends and family across the miles. But it's also a perfect time to help young writers creatively communicate thankfullness. Visit our Pinterest page and let the writing begin:

Telephones come in all shapes and sizes.

Imagine a telephone.

Now, imagine a telephone made of cardboard.

Imagine someone trying to make a call, but the only telephone is a telephone of cardboard.

Does this person realize that the telephone is made out of cardboard? Does s/he want it to be made out of cardboard, instead of being fully functional? Why? Does the narrator know why this person is using a cardboard phone? Or is s/he just as confused as the reader? Or, what if the character in the story or poem happens upon the phone, picks up the receiver on a whim, and the cardboard telephone actually works? Who is on the other end? Is that person using a cardboard telephone too, or a standard phone?

Imagine the possibilities and then craft your ideas into a story or poem.

Example:

The Girl with The Cardboard Phone

There is a girl who talks on a cardboard phone

every day during recess.

Past the thwacking of jump rope

on cement, past the many grabbing hands

at the monkey bars, below the cracked tube

of the playground slide,

you’ll find her clutching the cardboard receiver,

stroking the thin fringe of its ripped edge

with a white finger. We used to wonder

what secret messages were being passed

into the thick brown strip, soggy with dew

and wet leaves, and whether

anyone was replying. We wondered

until one day, we wandered by and caught these words:

“I love you too”— accompanied by a smile

like a warm cup of tea on the greyest day.

-Constance

Posted on November 8, 2014 by BBCo — 4 Comments

A Shape Full of Thanksgiving

Concrete poetry is not child's play but rather the intersection where typography and poetry meet to play. Sir Ken Robinson reminds us that “…imagination is the source of every form of human achievement.” Concrete poetry is an invitation to imagine possibility.

So how do you begin to craft a shape poem? Of course there are many wonderful resources online, but the best place to begin is to remember that what seperates all poetry from prose is, first and formost, its shape. Each and every poem has a very specific arrangement on the page because white space, to the poet, is an extension of punctuation, directing the reader's eye to pause, move, breathe. Concrete poetry takes shape a step further into the realm of representation. For example, if your poem is about a blooming garden, your poem might be flower shaped. If your poem is about sorrow, it might take the shape of a teardrop. What I love about Constance's poem below is that the simple window shape draws me, the reader, to come near, to peer through the panes and contemplate the complexities of thankfulness with each drop drop drop that fabricates the window frame.

Concrete poetry is not child's play.

So here's my idea. This week, when I introduce shape poetry to my young writers, I'm going to begin by exploring Constance's poem with them—a single statement with repeated words to form a shape. I'll invite them to meet me at the intersection where typography and poetry play. And together we'll imagine the shape of thanksgiving. Imagine the possibilites.

Why not join the fun? After all, "…'tis the season to be thankful!" We'd love to hear from you. Feel free to post your poems in the comment section of this post.

Thanksgiving

The first rain of the year announces its presence by every thick

drop drop drop

on the glass drum of our kitchen window: a rain that, with kind

drops drops drops

they say, is mother to the stale cracked skin of godforsaken lands.

-Kim & Constance

Posted on November 8, 2014 by BBCo

Mimicry or Artistry

So many films for younger audiences, from Finding Nemo to The Incredibles to How to Train Your Dragon, teach them to take pride in being different. So many children’s movies tell kids that it’s important to “be yourself.” It’s ok to be a mutant or divergent. Today, in children’s films at least, individuality is being pushed as a positive virtue for young minds.

You are special.

Be yourself.

Yet, in real life, how often are children allowed to be themselves?

What about the real life world of education, are we really encouraging children to be themselves?

I remember dropping out of an English class in middle school because I was having trouble adhering to its rules of writing. The reason? The problem wasn’t that I had little motivation to produce interesting, informed work. The problem was that I was using seven-instead-of-five-adjectives-per-paragraph. That I had one-too-many-sentences in my papers. That I wasn’t-using-enough-transitive-verbs.

The problem was that teaching me to mimic an example paragraph was easier than engaging me in the work of discovering my unique writer's voice.

This situation isn’t unique to my experience—it’s embedded in every textbook that would rather teach the rules, instead of the art, of writing. It’s encoded in every lesson that finds it easier to teach MLA formatting than the musicality of diction. Sometimes even well meaning educators turn unquantifiable aesthetic sensitivity into calculus, artistic standards into rules.

This struggle didn’t become quite clear to me until I entered college. I remember sitting in a creative writing workshop during my freshman year, listening to two honors teachers discussing concrete poetry.

By “discussing” I mean “cutting to bits.”

I distinctly one of them saying, with a short laugh, “Oh, shape poetry! If you’re not in fifth grade, don’t do it.”

I then distinctly remember thinking of my high school writing teacher, who was a lover of shape poetry. Due to her influence, John Hollander’s “Swan And Shadow” is one of my favorite poems of all time.

Now, here were two artists whom I admired greatly, who wrote spectacular stuff and definitely were aware of what qualities made writing great. I was stuck between two opinions that seemed equally credible. I had no idea of what the rules were because there seemed to be two competing sets of rules.

That was the moment that I realized the importance of being myself.

In that moment, I realized that no one was going to tell me the “right” thing to do. In the end, I'm going to face many sets of legitimate opinions that clash over certain issues. And, in the end, it will be up to me to decide what I want to do with my writing. It’s up to me to decide whether shape poetry is worth consideration or not. (Spoiler alert: I believe it is.)

In the end, it’s important for us to teach children that after learning the rules, there will be moments when they will have to break them in order to assert their own voice. After learning the importance of using a certain proportion of adjectives in a paragraph, I should have been taught that Hemingway steered clear of adjectives and Fitzgerald brought them to the party in hordes. And, of course, students should be taught that in those moments when they don't even know what the rules are, but they sense something that just must be crafted to words on the page, they can confidently follow the creative impulse into the murky unknown knowing that the likes of EB White's Elements of Style will be waiting on the other side.

Remember, writing is a process and when it comes to writing the most important thing is to raise your voice. The most important thing is to be authentic, to be yourself.

And I mean it.

-Constance

Posted on October 29, 2014 by BBCo

Snail of Orange.

Imagination is just the thing to inspire young writers.

To get started, visit our Pinterest: Snail of Orange

Juxtapose the grotesque and the delicious, the crude and the dainty by drawing inspiration from this snail—usually not considered the most beautiful or appealing creature-—created from an orange.

How can you create a beautiful concept out of something unexpected; something strange and slimy like a snail? Or vice versa?

Unexpected images are just the thing to quell writer's block. Think .

Here's another bit of fodder from Les Miserables: “One morning [Bishop D—] was in his garden, and thought himself alone, but his sister was walking behind him, unseen by him: suddenly he paused and gazed at something on the ground; it was a large, black, hairy, frightful spider. His sister heard him say:– ‘Poor beast! It is not its fault!’”

Example Haiku:

An Art Lesson

stamps of greasy lips

and fingertips on napkins are

unexpected flowers

-Constance

Posted on June 16, 2014 by BBCo

Da Vinci Summer V: Craft a Found Poem

Think scavenger hunt.

Found poems are snips of non-poetic language gathered from unexpected places collaged into verse.

Think scraps of newspaper, snippets of conversation.

Think clipped magazine phrases woven to phrases you've invented.

Think scramble, unscramble.

Keep your eyes open, you never know where a sliver of poem might be lurking.

Posted on November 10, 2013September 6, 2020 by BBCo

The Metaphorical Beast

E. Nesbit, storyteller extraordinaire, weaves quite a yarn. The Book of Beasts is a favorite of my
three sons. Why? Not because the protagonist is a small boy, but because that
small boy becomes king! What boy doesn’t dream of being king at one point or
another during childhood? But the adventure for Lionel does not begin at the
coronation. No, the adventure begins in the library when Lionel dares to open a
book.

And so the lesson begins.

And while the lesson can easily be accomplished without E.
Nesbit’s book, it’s the spark for the lesson in the first place and highly
recommended.

To begin, I asked my writing apprentices to consider the
things that we struggle with as humans. While they were contemplating on paper,
I wrote Latin on the whiteboard without explanation:

HC SVNT DRACONES

We generated our list below the Latin——greed, laziness,
gossip, gluttony. After we were sufficiently steeped in considering the flaws
of our flesh, we began a discussion of what shape these “fleshly foes”
might take. We started with thumbnail metaphors. Each child began sketching his
or her mythical beast, animating its beastly qualities.

From here we began to write the Beast Tale. They were to
describe the character of their beast in detail, to create a situation in which
the beast might feed, and, of course, they were instructed to concoct a way to
slay the beast. All this in 500 words or less!

The writers eagerly worked to draft idea to paper. I was
amazed by the depth of engagement I witnessed as they crafted minute details
about beasts that they encounter in the real world.

As drafts were completed I saw pencils released and
re-reading begin. I saw little hands making red marks—scritch, scratch—then
more re-reading until the stage of polish began.

Sufficiently satisfied with the stories, each writer then
moved back to the visual realm and began animating their thumbnail beasts to a
form that was ready for canvas—light pencil traced with Sharpee was then hand
painted with fabric ink. Beasts were hand-stitched to felt and felt was machine
stitched to calico.

But there was one more piece of fabric to deal with once the
visual project was accomplished a few weeks later. And so I asked the
apprentices to read, once more, their polished Beast Tales. To their surprise,
they stumbled on little errors, or bumps in the story. Everyone found a little
something to refine, which proved to them without me lecturing, that writing
needs to incubate, that writing is a process.

And so, after this final polish, the tales were written by
hand on the remaining scrap of canvas. And the stories were machine stitched to
felt and the back was stitched to the front and the pillows were stuffed. And
that’s how the Beast Tales came to be.

When it comes to writing… show don’t tell.

So the next time any child grumbles or complains about
engaging in the art of writing simply remind them that writing is an adventure,
lift an imaginary sword and cry, “Beyond Here be Dragons,” and let the
adventure begin.

Posted on May 26, 2013 by BBCo

Words Are a Great Wonder

In our world where
fast paced technological communicating is the norm, our lexicon is shrinking
hand over fist. But the potential of words is a great wonder. Words are salty goodness that pepper writing with flavor.

So this month at the Guild we are, once again, making words.

Last spring I
introduced my writers to the idea of “neologisms” coined by Lewis Carroll. I
began by asking the writers to remind me of the details from last spring’s
lesson. I was surprised that they remembered with great detail the suffixes we
explored so long ago:

» cosm  [From Greek kosmos, order,
universe.]  Universe; world microcosm, macrocosm

» esque  [F., fr. It. -isco. Cf. –ish.]  An
adjective suffix indicating manner or style Arabesque, Romanesque

» ism  [Greek -ismos, -isma noun suffix]  A
suffix used to form action nouns from verbs, distinctive doctrine, system, or
theory skepticism, truism

They even
remembered more than a handful of the words they crafted, words like: appleism,
s-e-e-ism, TVism, tablesque, pencilesque, windesque, bouncehousecosm,
balooncosm, and lollycosm

As I sat with the
group, I marveled at their retention, but more significantly at their
delight. can’t say the same
about any of the vocabulary development lessons that I’ve utilized through the
years from various curriculums that shall remain nameless!

The art of
crafting neologisms focuses the writer’s attention on the specificity of words
and their potential to enact ideas in a very meaningful way. And lessons that
are meaningful are lasting.

So we began our
exploration of suffixes, mining for meaning and application:

» able  [From Latin abilis, capable of, fit
for.]  washable, enjoyable, pitiable

ex.
Neologism – baloonable

» nomy  [From Greek nomos, system of rules
or knowledge.] astronomy, economy, autonomy

ex.
Neologism – iPodonomy

» ization  [From Greek izein, to become.]
popularization, organization, generalization

ex.
Neologism – basketballization

»
ology  [From Greek logia, to speak of, study or science of.]
biology, geology, anthropology

ex.
Neologism – pickleology

» phobia  [From
Latin phobia, abnormal fear] claustrophobia, arachnophobia, xenophobia

ex.
Neologism – flipflopphobia

» ward  [From
Middle English ward, specifics of direction] toward, homeward, backward

ex.
Neologism – chocolateward

Bonus Suffix:

» biotic  [From
Greek biotikis, of life, method of living] antibiotic, probiotic, microbiotic

ex.
Neologism – fauxbiotic

Ultimately, I challenged the
writers to create a list of neologisms for each suffix. Now I challenge you to do
the same. And as you do, keep in mind, words are a great wonder! Go and salt the earth.

-Kim

Posted on November 27, 2012 by BBCo

Break the Cycle of Boredom: Build a Habit of Being

My son Taylor has remarked more than once that Danny Champion of the World is his all time favorite elementary
read. Having a dad who is a real life inventor, I’m my son could really relate
to this story. But like many young readers, I’m sure Taylor was simply drawn
into Roald Dahl’s clever tale of the antics of Danny and his loving
poacher/inventor dad.

Obviously Taylor did not build a habit of being for reading and
writing over night. The arduous process involved days upon days of providing my
son with the tools that pressed him into the work of becoming literate—in the
not just able to read and write sense, but in the able to apply and create
sense. The work was complex and the process was longitudinal. Looking back,
providing consistent opportunity for Taylor to participate in a series of small
steps, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other over time while incrementally increasing
the complexity of the reading and writing expectations was key.

Still, sometimes the task of helping Taylor learn to read and write
was like a game of limbo. Increase expectations too much and the pole was
knocked down. Increase the expectations too little and Taylor would knock the
pole off just for fun. The game all said and done, I’m pretty sure that my
son’s investment in learning to not only read great stories closely, but to
mine for applicable riches and learn to communicate his spoil in the form of
words has strengthened his ability to bring an original idea to fruition. Taylor
built a habit of being and that habit of being keeps him on his toes.

A habit of being is forged over time as our children engage in the
work of learning to tackle complex processes, processes such as exploring
literature and the process of mathematical problem solving, such as the process
of crafting a poem or an essay or a fictional story. Establishing habits of
being, best achieved slowly over time, is like transforming coal to
diamond.

Habits of being spark imagination and imagination sparks curiosity
and curiosity is the stuff from which we forge original ideas. And guess what?
Bringing an original idea to fruition simply will not leave room for boredom.

Recently my seventeen-year-old son,
Taylor, was bored.

Not for long.

One Cannon FD lens, one
iPod, and a stack of cardboard. I watched my son think in threes.

The next thing I see can not exactly be
captured in words. Think the bump and jolt of stop motion. Think the colorless
blur of fast motion. Think the patience and precision of a piano tuner.

This mom moves into his kitchen studio on
a pretense. I am not noticed scouring a counter or two to spy on his process.
Soon the lens projects the screen of the iPod onto a white wall surface.
Problem is the image is in reverse.

I see his interior voice utter, “Hmmm.”

Then I hear, “WAIT.”

I see my son scramble to the art cabinet and reemerge with a piece
of tracing paper. He constructs a screen.

“I made an iPod television!” Suddenly my
presence in the kitchen studio is acknowledged.

“Let's see if I can get the image bigger
on the screen.” A few seconds later, “Whoa!
Look Mom!”

And so, the next time your child is
bored, slide a book across the table. And when they’re done reading hand them
paper and pencil and ask, “Now what’s your idea?”

–Kim

Posted on September 14, 2012 by BBCo

Read to Write » Write to Read

Reading and writing should be first and foremost a fun endeavor.

That’s right, fun.

But fun—the true kind—is not a byproduct of easy.

Fun is hard work.

Developing reading fluency takes years.
Developing writing proficiency takes years.
One can’t really be accomplished separate from the other.
Still, more often than not, we isolate the task of teaching the child to read from the task of teaching the child to write. Worse yet, we subdivide these tasks into smaller tasks—phonics, comprehension, grammar, capitalization, punctuation, syntax—until the disconnection is a grim mountain to climb.
The joy of learning to read a great story should not be overshadowed by the work of learning to glean its riches.

The joy of writing should not be overshadowed by the work of learning the mechanical process of setting words to the page.
Words on the page have the power to inspire, to inform, to exhort, to clarify, to persuade, but ultimately words on the page are a gift. When words on the page offer an expression worth expressing, the voice is authentic and the reader is engaged. Robert Frost himself reminds us, “No tears in the writer no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” Words on the page are worthy on the giving and receiving end.

Blackbird & Company titles represent a selection of authentic classic and contemporary literature that are near and dear to our hearts. We’ve painstakingly created our literature discovery guides with an integrated approach to reading and writing in mind. Our goal is simply to help students engage in the work of loving to read and write.