HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

What the heck does Stephen King know about writing? The man has written, what, 3... maybe 4 books in his entire life? Big deal. He's hardly an authority on the subject.

Surely, I jest.

Stephen King is probably the most prolific author of his generation. He is a true example of a man who was born to write. In his "Memoir of the Craft," King takes us inside his childhood and shows us how his style was formed.

Today's guest blogger is Carmelita Seufert. Carmelita is a teacher in a New York high school. She has a very interesting perspective on using the works of Stephen King in the classroom and we are happy to welcome her to WORD.

My very first encounter with the terrifying world of Stephen King was about 25 years ago. My much older cousins decided that 'Salem's Lot was an appropriate film to view while babysitting four-year olds. Needless to say, I viewed most of the film from behind my aunt's couch cushions. The image of that vampire floating up into the open bedroom window haunted me and my brother's imaginations to the point where we convinced my mother that a crucifix in our window would be our only salvation.

Cut to today. I am on the phone with a parent who is beside herself because I have just assigned her daughter, a student in my 9th grade Honors English class, an essay on King's short story, "Suffer the Little Children" (from the book Nightmares and Dreamscapes).  The woman is distraught that I am teaching such a "disturbing" story, yet when I remind her that I am using it in conjunction with Edgar Allan Poe, she claims to approve Poe's work because he is "a classic." 

She has just stepped on sacred ground. 

I am one of those individuals who grows furious when King is denied a spot on the shelf with Poe and the rest of the "classics" gang.  From a teacher's perspective, King is one of the most "teachable" modern writers we have.  While there are some issues with mature language and sexual content, many of King's novels and stories feature characters and themes that adolescents can easily relate to and become excited writing about--which is one of my main goals each year.

Last May, I traveled to Bangor, Maine, Stephen King's hometown. The result of the trip was an article in Writing magazine's October issue (check out our exclusive King interview). This is the last of my journal entries, however I will be posting a few other King related goodies as Halloween draws near.

May 12, 2005
8:35 p.m.

Here we are in mid-May. The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and everyone is comfortable in the warm evening spring weather. Oh wait... we're in Maine.

It's cold, son. It's dang cold.

I just got back from a baseball game. I went to Trevor Mansfield Park to watch Bangor High take on Hampden. By the end of the Star Spangled Banner (which was pumped out over the loudspeakers all around the field), the wind was blowing hard and frigid causing many teeth to chatter. Of course... the numbing noise was coming from my mouth only as the rest of the fans were nestled under wool blankets, drinking hot cocoa from their mittened hands, and rooting for the home team through multi-layered scarves. They expect this kind of weather, they come prepared. They are the locals.

In Jungle Dogs by Graham Salisbury, a 12-year-old kid, Boy Kahekilimaikalani Regis, learns to brave both human and canine jungle dogs in Hawaii. On page 1:

Boy and his older brother Damon are sitting on their bikes on a road in the jungle. Then...

Boy leaned forward and squinted into the shadowy trees and thick twisty weeds. He could feel his heart thumping in his throat. "What...what if they're in there?" he said.
"What if who's in there?"
"Jungle dogs."

What would you do if you saw jungle dogs? Tell us.

 

Last May, I traveled to Bangor, Maine, Stephen King's hometown. The result of the trip was an article in Writing magazine's October issue (check out our exclusive King interview). Over the course of the week, I will be posting my journal entries from the trip as well as a few other King related goodies.

May 11, 2005
9:32 p.m.

...and I thought yesterday was exhausting.

I woke up this morning and drove to Stephen King’s office. I met with his assistant, Marsha DeFilipo and she gave me a very interesting interview. She even let me take pictures of his office! While I was asking her a few questions, Stephen called her to ask about some tickets. She told him that she got them and that yes, they were on the field level. Looks like Mr. King is going to see the BoSox soon.

After that, I drove around and found King’s house. I felt very much like a stalker as I snapped photos of the house and his beautiful, black wrought iron fence adorned with bats and gargoyles. I got out of there quick. It just felt dirty. Although it would have been cool if he came out to say hi. It wouldn't have been too much out of the ordinary. According to everyone in town, he's an incredibly friendly dude.

Last May, I traveled to Bangor, Maine, Stephen King's hometown. The result of the trip was an article in Writing magazine's October issue (check out our exclusive King interview). Over the course of the week, I will be posting my journal entries from the trip. The following entry details my long drive and arrival in Bangor.

 

May 10, 2005

9:51 p.m.

Ugh. Argh. Sigh and et cetera. I am tired. I have arrived.

The rental car is nice. It has air conditioning and cruise control and a CD player. So I listened to the first four CDs of From a Buick 8. I was wrong when I said it was 8 CDs. It’s actually 13! Wow. That's a whole lotta reading. It's pretty good, too. Guess I should mention that. It's all about this car, a Buick (duh) that, for some reason or other, has some sort of evil power to it. One patrolman has already disappeared and the others think the Buick ate him. Spooky.

I wouldn't say this if Mr. King hadn't already said it himself. He's been quoted, in the past, by saying something to the extent of: After a long career, I find myself repeating myself. I didn't use cute little quotation marks because I'm paraphrasing. I also just noticed that I repeated "myself" in the paraphrasing. Sheesh, I must be tired. Anywho, the reason I bring it up is because King wrote an excellent book called Christine a long time back. Christine is a possessed 1958 Plymouth Fury with a taste for bloodlust. That book was awesome. I remember exactly where I was when I read it. I was here in Maine as fate would have it! It was much farther south from Bangor (where I am now) in a town called Pine Point and I was probably about 13 or 14 years old. As I was making the long haul today, I made a pit stop in P.P. and walked by the old family cottage. I got a chill walking down the street.

I remember there was a car that used to be parked there on the street. I remember the exact spot and the feeling I used to get when I walked past it. As if the car was alive, as if it wanted to own me. King affected my mind. He got in. He’s always known how to do that.

Last May, I traveled to Bangor, Maine, Stephen King's hometown. The result of the trip was an article in Writing magazine's October issue (check out our exclusive King interview). Over the course of the week, I will be posting my journal entries from the trip. This first one outlines my punch-drunk excitement prior to the long, eight hour drive. Check back later tonight for actual Bangor goodness.

 

 

May 10, 2005

7:23 a.m.

 

It's a beautiful day for an eight hour drive. Wouldn't you say?

I woke up this morning at 6:00 and smiled. I closed my eyes.

I woke up this morning at 6:15 and smiled. I closed my eyes.

I woke up this morning at 6:45 and laughed. I could get up, I suppose. Still early though. I closed my eyes.

7:01. It might as well be Christmas morning. I might as well be a child. I sprang out of bed, to the window with a whistle. Stepped out onto the porch and took a deep breath. "It's a beautiful day for an eight hour drive," I said to the birds, to the squirrels, to the traffic, to the sky.

This morning, when I came into the office, there was a stack of envelopes piled up on my chair. Loads of submissions are rolling in for our annual writing contest. Bryon had many envelopes to slice open too. One of them was a poem written by a teen survivor of Hurricane Katrina. (It was beautiful and may get published in a future issue of READ magazine, if space permits.)

A few hours later, I got an e-mail link to a feature story about how writing is helping many young Katrina surivors heal: 

"In Baton Rouge, faculty and students at Louisiana State University quickly organized the Katrina Writing Project, offering evacuees of all ages a notebook to write down their thoughts or compose poetry - whatever they wanted. Before long, people were seeking out volunteers to ask for a notebook." Read the full article and some survivor stories.

The article reminded me of Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg's book Write Where You Are: How to Use Writing to Make Sense of Your Life. In it, Goldberg writes:

"Writing heals your hurts and sings your songs ... it gives you a place to save and savor your memories and insights, your thoughts and wishes, your feelings and goals. Writing can help you create and re-create ... Writing can also help you express your true feelings and understand yourself better. Most of all, it can make you feel more alive."

I so agree with Goldberg.

Some people sing to let off the steam in their lives. Others dance. Still others run. For me, writing is the best therapy.

I've been keeping a journal since I was 11 years old. Each and every one of my diaries is stacked in a huge wooden chest. Whenever I crack the lid open to thumb through the pages of my notebooks, I wonder: what would I have done without writing?

My journals still keep me afloat. Whenever I am going through a rough spot, or if I've had an irritating day, I just pull out a pen and start writing.

Even if I do nothing but make a long list of:
"I'm angry/upset/irritated/annoyed/hurt because _____________"
on a blank piece of paper, I instantly start to feel better.

It sounds so simple, but it always does the trick. I start to breathe easier, I stop frowning, and I wipe away the frustration. 

Try it. It really works.

 

At long last, READ magazine has finally got all the kinks out of our time machine and we are now prepared to offer you something that no one else can--an exclusive interview with famous dead dudes.

We thought long and hard about who we should contact first, and in the end, we decided to go with the single most recognizable name in the history of the printed word. Enough buildup? Fine. It's William Shakespeare. 

Oh, stop moaning, you know there's something about him that intrigues you. In most literary circles, Shakespeare is considered to be one of the greatest, in fact, THE greatest writer of all time! So just what is it about him that's got the whole world going ga-ga?

I recently took a trip to the year 1600 and sat down with Mr. Shakespeare and asked him about his fame.

Is it too soon to be talking about November? I think not.

First, I would like to welcome Anastasia to WORD. We are very excited to have her and we anticipate great literary insights from her in the future. In fact, she's the person who brought this super cool web site to our attention. They call themselves NaNoWriMo. And yes, at first glance it appears that they are some kind of newly discovered dinosaur, but no! Quite the contrary! Can a dinosaur write a novel in 30 days? I'd like to see him try!

NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's brilliant! It's crazy! It's... well, I can't really say what it is exactly because I haven't tried it yet. But from my early surfing of their web site, it promises to be an awesome time.

WORD is pleased to introduce our new guest blogger, Anastasia. Check back here every Tuesday to try out one of her writing prompts.

The National Book Award nominees were announced last week! Bestselling author John Grisham made the announcements at Rowan Oak, the home of William Faulkner in Oxford, Mississippi.

One of the books in my writing prompts blog, Each Little Bird That Sings by Deborah Wiles was nominated in the Young People's Literature Category.

In Each Little Bird That Sings, Comfort Snowberger's family owns a funeral home, so she has attended 247 funerals. When her Great-Uncle Edisto dies, she writes a poetic obituary for him and submits it to a local newspaper, calling it a "Life Notice." When her Great-great-aunt Florentine dies too, she writes another Life Notice for her. Comfort also compose a list of "Top Ten Tips for First-rate Funeral Behavior." Read an excerpt from the book, and then, try this writing prompt:

What would you write about someone you loved after they died?

In our September issue of Writing, we invited you to send us your writing-related questions and promised to send them to some our guest authors to answer.

Question No. 1 was for Ralph Fletcher, author of The Writer's Notebook and Marshfield Dreams. It comes from Chelsea Groyohann:

Dear Ralph,

I'm responding to your letter. For one thing I always can't think of anything to write about. It takes me a while to think of what to write about. Usually when I do finally think of something to write about I can't stop writing. I LOVE Dunkin Donuts. It's like the best place to go in the morning. My favorite drink there is iced lattes. Well, anyway I have a few questions:

   1. How was China?
   2. Was it very different from where you live now?
   3. Did you get any good ideas for something to write about?

Well, I liked your article, and I hope you do great in your future writing.

Sincerely,

Chelsea

This is what Ralph Fletcher had to say:

Dear Chelsea,

Nice to hear from you. You and I share a love of writing and iced lattes at DD. Yes, China was great. So wonderful to get into a completely different culture. And the shopping was great (lots of inexpensive cool stuff!). I didn't get any ideas to write about but I'm sure China will somehow figure in my future writing.
   Hard to come up with ideas, huh? I wish I had an easy answer. You might try making a map of a special neighborhood (where you visited, or where you grew up). 
   On the map, mark: 1) a place where something happened 2) a favorite place 3) a secret place.
   A "story map" like this will generate lots of ideas. Good luck!

Your friendly author,

Ralph Fletcher

More writing tips for young writers from Ralph Fletcher.

Question No. 2 was for Amy Krouse Rosenthal, author of Encylopedia of an Ordinary Life. It comes from Maryellen Carrigan.

Last Wednesday, October 5th, around 9:30pm, a hero of his own art drowned in the Hudson River. 22 year old Dennis Kim of Bay Ridge, Brooklyn was walking along the Christopher St. Pier in the West Village of New York City when he somehow lost his backpack over the railing.

"I can't let that stuff go," he told a friend as he began emptying his pockets and removing his shoes.

On Saturday, as the rain fell in buckets from the pregnant gray sky, I was asked: "What do you dream of doing on a rainy day?"

Blogger Keri Smith has come up with a pretty good list of almost 100 creative ideas. Here are some more of my own:

Invent a dessert. I made an angel food cake with pears, mango, and chocolate.
Splash in a puddle. Then write a poem about wet feet.
Clean out your backpack, wallet, or pockets. Stick all the scraps of paper you find into a blank notebook, and make a word collage of your recent trails.
Listen to your favorite song. Then write your own, using one of the lines you like best.
Play Scrabble in a foreign language. It's not as difficult as you think. A lot of words in English are borrowed from other languages. 

The forecast calls for rain for the rest of this week and the Farmer's Almanac says it's going to be a long, cold winter.  Guess I'll just keep working my way down my own list - and adding to it! Any suggestions?

 

In the Mindstretch section of READ Magazine--Issue 3, we started a joke that goes a little something like this:

Three men are stranded on an island. They find a genie living in a conch shell. He grants each of them one wish. The first man says, "I want to go home." POOF! He is gone. The second man says, "I want to go home." POOF! He is gone. The third man looks around and says ...

What does he say?!? Well, the original punchline was that the third man says, "Gee I miss my friends. I wish they were here." Ba dum chhhh.

Well, that was pretty corny. The following punchlines are much better and they come straight from you, our READers!

"Hey, how come I'm still here?" - submitted by Shandrieka

"So, what's new with you?" - submitted by Skyla

"Hey, where did everyone go?" - submitted by Misty

"I'll take a jet ski please" - submitted by Patrick

"Man, I wish my friends were here to help me make my decision." - submitted by Matt

"E-mail me!" and "Hold up! I'm on the phone." - submitted by Ms. Garner's 8th grade class

Thanks to everyone who submitted their funny ha ha's!

The Complete Calvin and Hobbes collection was released yesterday. I'm not going to buy it. I would (even though the price is just shy of $100), but I already have all the comic books so buying this new set would merely be an act of reckless spending. But oh how I want it.

OH!

I walked into my favorite little bookstore yesterday (in Mystic, Conn.), and instantly got that old familiar feeling. That “kid-in-a-candy store” feeling. That “Christmas morning” feeling. The tingly anticipation of treasure to be discovered.