Students in our after-school and community classes are exploring all the different ways writers generate ideas, and put captivating words on the page.
Here are writing excerpts and some photos of our young authors working with instructor, Lauran Weinmann at Crocker Highlands Elementary in the East Bay:
From “What Are You Made Of?” self-recipe exercise
By Grace
“Friday Spectacular”
Ingredients:
4 ½ pounds soccer
3 pounds Jamaican
15 tablespoons pizza lover
50 pounds awesome
1 pound second child
a pinch of singing
a handful of acting
Directions:
Take a handful of acting and put in a big mixing bowl. Grind it with a pinch of singing. Set aside for 57 minutes. Next take 4 ½ pounds of soccer and put it into a frying pan to get fried for 5 minutes and pour in other mixture. Next put in 1 pound second child, 3 pounds Jamaican background and 50 pounds of awesomeness. Pour both mixtures into heavy duty oven for 1 hour and 53 minutes. Serve with caramel sauce and milk.
From food writing – alliteration
By Noah
Crisp chips crunched, crackled, and condensed.
Chocolate chip cookies crumble quietly.
Vegan vinegar going vsh, vsh.
From food writing – love letter to a food
By Lauren
Dear Salmon,
You can be cooked so many ways: grilled, smoked, barbecued, teriakyed. I could go on for days!
From free write prompt: write a scene in a restaurant
By Gayatri
One day at a Thai restaurant an acrobat and an artist were sitting together. Their names were Big Bob Billy and Curly Kidd.
By Max
Artist Fratti was taking a walk when he saw Bok Choi and Lapchang having lunch as friends together, and he wasn’t invited.
By Ben
He asked one of the men sitting there, “May I please borrow some salt,” in a strong British accent. He got no reply. Joey decided to just take the salt and leave. As he did so, a firm hand blocked his path.
From free write prompt: write from the perspective of a stack of paper sitting next to a shredder
By Claire
Oh great. At times like this I REALLY wish I had legs. Hi, I’m Carl -- page number one on this stack of bills sitting right next to the shredder.
By Shay
Death. That’s what I tasted in my mouth. The bloody, mushy, dry feeling.
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