November is National Novel Writing Month or “NaNoWriMo” – a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Along with more than 100,000 young novelists worldwide our co-op has accepted this challenge for the past three years. Setting a personal word count goal, students have the opportunity to dig into their imagination and write, write, write their way to that goal! Writing an entire novel in one month may seem like a daunting task, but subtracting the steps of conferencing, re-writes, and editing from the process leaves room for young writers to explore creativity and that amounts to fun, fun, fun!
Last year our group wrote, collectively, 71,595 words! I am thankful for The Young Writers Program that provided our students with an opportunity to explore an idea which is the first and, perhaps, most creative step in the writing process. Following are unedited excerpts from 2009.
Once upon a time there was an elegant owl named Henry, Henry Hidgery Hoo. He lived with his four sons, John, the oldest, Clive, the middle, and the twins, James and Andy. His wife’s name was Henrietta. The family liked to do many things together, their favorites were fishing and camping, and they loved to celebrate holidays, especially Christmas.
Henry woke up wanting coffee, black and sweet. He walked down stairs and turned on the coffee machine. He sat down and read the newspaper until the job was done. “DING!” went the machine. Henry walked over to it and made his coffee. He glanced up at the calendar.
“December 24! It’s Christmas Eve!” he yelled. Ignoring his coffee, he ran upstairs and woke up Henrietta.
“What is it?” she asked in a tired voice. She took off her eye mask and looked up at Henry. He smiled.
“Henrietta, it is Christmas Eve!” she got out of bed without even saying one word. She walked down the stairs and woke up the kids. To Henry’s surprise, they were already dressed and ready to shop for the perfect Christmas tree.
– Henry Hidgerry Hoo, Liam, Grade 5
“Mommy, we’re going to be late!” Lila’s mother hated when she yelled across the house but Lila hated being late twice as much. Lila, in her impatience, ran out the door, her long blond hair flying behind her, and would have ran down the street to school but her mother’s call stopped her. “Lila you’ve forgotten your book bag!” Lila spun around, marched back into the lime green house, snatched the bag with her right hand and took her mothers hand lovingly in the other and together they walked to school. They walked because almost everything in the small city was in walking distance.
It was Lila’s first day in fourth grade, and she wasn’t as excited as the other smiling children. She didn’t get why one and two made three. Why did it not make four or five? She imagined that they felt left out. One day she would write a letter to the people who made math. On the other hand, she did look forward to art and writing. These tended to make sense. Lila and her mother walked up to the front door of the little school, the warm sun glittering off the panes of glass in between the cream, wood framing, and knocked. A lady with rosy cheeks and short, chocolate brown hair opened the door wide. She was pudgy, wore a pink plaid suit and had a welcoming voice, but Lila disliked her, greatly. She was always so kind and when someone else did something bad, she wouldn’t scold them as Lila thought she should. But, lucky for Lila, she was not to be her teacher any more, as she stated quite clearly when she opened the door. “Oh dear Lila how I wish I could teach you but you are in fourth grade now! Would you like me to walk you to your room?”
“That’s quite alright, Miss Kito, I will be walking her to her room.” Said her mother. This brought great relief to Lila who didn’t want to be walked to her room by Miss Kito. Miss Kito gave a smile of content and walked away.
– Lila Dressed in Lilacs, Taylor, Grade 8