The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes usually comes from someone older than them—much older! This week, it comes from my six-year-old son, who doled out one of those “from-the-mouth-of-babes” moments recently. We were preparing to set out for the day when he told me:
“Let’s walk without talking so we can be with our peaceful thoughts.”
For the record, we did NOT walk in peace (he was far too excited because we were on our way for his first big-screen Star Wars movie). But I still like the sentiment, and Hiro and I certainly have plenty of those quiet moments when we’re out and about in the woods, wandering forest paths, finding trees and stones and textures that tell us stories along the way.
Sometimes being creative is making space to be creative. As a society, we’re pretty good these days at not allowing those opportunities to take shape.
Maybe I’ll teach a class on staring out of the window . . .
Last week was the 45th annual Young Authors’ Conference in Kamloops and it was a real privilege to be there with the passionate teachers and organizers, the amazing authors and illustrators, and—of course—the kids.
I delivered three different sessions on the topic of “So you want to go to Wizard School.” I emphasized making specific detailed choices in creating fantasy situations and then the kids invented magical schools. We brought these to life by writing acceptance letters from that school to a character . . . a letter delivered by a miniature flying broom!
We made the broom, of course . . . and that was a big challenge, since I had almost ninety kids cycle through my workshop room. But I was able to do it with A LOT of advance prep and some amazing class helpers.
One of the reasons I love making props with kids is because it really helps them approach “story” from a different angle. The kids physically made their brooms, problem solved ways to bring their ideas to life, and got to fold up their letters and tuck them into tiny envelopes to attach to their brooms. The story came to life for them!
I also loved how the kids were able to think outside the box. I purposely didn’t bring paint or any complicated supplies—simply put, I needed to keep the project simple because of the number of participants and the limited time frame. But the students still found ways to paint or decorate their brooms with sharpies and felt pens . . . I can’t say I’m too surprised by their ingenuity, but it definitely pleased me.
Thank you to the conference organizers. It was a joy to work with the students, hang out with old kidlit friends, meets some new ones, and even get the opportunity to lunch with my favourite aunt.
(And my apologies to the janitorial staff who had to deal with the aftermath of my workshop room. We tried out best to clean up after ourselves. Ironically, making almost ninety miniature brooms involves a lot of sweeping up afterward.
I wrapped up residency at a local school this week, which is always bittersweet! I spend so much time working with the kids and then it seems over in a heartbeat. But over the past four weeks, we sure had fun building our worlds—in the case of the intermediaries, that was a magical school, and for the younger ones a monster pet store. You can see the creativity bursting off their pages!
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes comes from film composer Hans Zimmer. The visual shows an abbreviated version; here is the full quote:
“Life isn’t as long as you think it is. You have a choice: You can go and try to live a playful life, or you can go and live a life which excludes playfulness. And it doesn’t get you anywhere. Playfulness gets you somewhere.”
I’ve spent the past few weeks speaking at various conferences about writing for—and teaching it to—kids. Over the past 20 years, I’ve gained a few insights! One of those insights is that growing up is the enemy of creativity—which isn’t exactly surprising, but it’s important to remember, and to resist. I’ve seen the erosion of creativity trend downwards, so that kids are losing that innate, beautiful creativity at younger and younger ages.
That’s why I try to bring such a sense of play into my workshops, even for older students, to keep that muscle, that part of the brain, active, alive, and sharp. Sometimes, parents (or maybe even teachers!) look upon my classroom and wonder what it has to do with writing. But to be a creative writer is to be creative! We cannot swim without water; we cannot creatively write without being creative.
If you had visited my house this week, you would have found trays of long blonde strands. No, I didn’t steal Rapunzel’s hair (which I admittedly told our neighbour’s daughter when she was over to play with our son). I’m teaching at a young author’s conference this week and we’re going to write letters that we’ll attach to miniature brooms (which we will make). I’m told I’ll have up to 90 kids in my sessions, so I need a lot of broom material! Which means I spent some prep time this week listening to music and cutting up jute rope to make the straw. It comes out curly, so I soaked it in warm water to straighten it out and now it’s sitting out to dry. Such is the world of creative education…
I rolled out a fun activity in my creative writing class recently, as part as my ongoing attempt to help my students add intrigue and mystery to their stories. I brought in a stack of envelopes and got them to imagine that one of their characters received a mysterious letter—but a letter that had been through quite an adventure, as demonstrated by the condition of the envelope.
So . . . we took those crisp white envelopes and splattered and dabbed paint on them to represent mud, we smudged them with fingerprints, we nibbled them with stapler removers, we scorched them with a candle, and we sealed them with wax. All of this was to give the envelope some history and spark that sense of adventure in a story.
Many of the students chose to draw ornate designs on the envelope, and others chose to draw stamps as well. (Doing this activity made me realize that the stamp design could be a whole side project and it would be fun to draw those on a separate page then cut them out and affix them afterwards.)
Of course, the students also wrote something to be included inside the envelope. Some of them had invisible ink messages from a previous class they wanted to put in there, while others chose to write a series of riddles or a provocative threat.
It was my first time doing this specific activity, but it was definitely a lot of fun to beat up those envelopes! This project would certainly serve as a fun story starter and, in that case, the entire writing assignment could be the letter inside (as opposed to adding texture to an existing story, which is what I did for this particular class).
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes comes from Canadian YA author, Judy I. Lin:
“Ideas can be a very small spark, then they marinate.”
This week, I attended an event at Iron Dog Books where YA author Nafiza Azad interviewed Judy I. Lynn about her new book, Song of the Six Realms.
I made note of the above quote because I think my students sometimes think we need BIG ideas to get started.
But anyone who has been to one of my workshops or listened to me talk on the subject knows that I believe in the power of the slow drizzle over the lightning bolt—or as Judy I. Lin says, the marinating process. We tend to think quick and flashy is better, but one of the reasons I love attending author talks is because I get insight into how the creative mind works. And, it seems to me, that most ideas take a long time before they’re ready to be put into the oven!
Looking forward to reading Song of the Six Realms! Isn’t the cover beautiful?
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes:
“There’s no such thing as perfect writing.”
Haruki Murakami
Does this sentiment motivate you as a writer? Or depress you? Personally, I think most artists are in search of perfection, but it’s the quest that’s more important than the result. So, I hope my students will find Murakami’s words motivating!
I always think a lot about the process of creativity, but this year particularly so. That’s because I’ve been doing a lot of reflection about my various experiences in the classroom—this Spring has been a bit of a tour for me, speaking at various conferences on the subject. There have been some career talks, parent conferences, and professional development days for teachers, librarians, and literacy educators. I love talking craft!
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes is from stop-motion animator Phil Tippett. I amended it for the graphic; here is a longer version:
“What I recently figured out is I’ve always had depression and anxiety. The anxiety would come…just like a storm…I realized if I made stuff, and get out of my mind…the storm would just go away…The key therapy that I think that has helped me is that I’m very process driven.”
This is from the documentary Light and Magic, about the early days of visual effects studio ILM. My son wanted to know how they did the Imperial Walkers in the old Star Wars films, so that led us to the doc.
I found the human side of the story to be just as compelling (if not more) than the technical achievements of the company. In particular, Phil Tippett’s perspectives really caught my attention. I think creative health is linked strongly to mental health, and I think what he’s emphasizing is this: When in doubt, create stuff!
Many of my students resist this—they want to get on with the work of the “product,” the final thing they are trying to make, even when they hit a dead-end and are feeling stuck. Sometimes, changing our literal perspective or surroundings can really help. So can working with our hands or approaching a problem with a different artistic enterprise.
On a sidenote, the six-year-old and I ended up making a rudimentary stop-motion movie so that I could show him the process. A snippet of it is here (I’m in no danger of being hired by ILM anytime soon!).
In one way, it feels like a lifetime ago that I was on my mini artistic tour of Bangkok, but I’ve still found myself reflecting on my experience with the schools there. It’s also taken me this long to review all the photos! So, here’s a photo dump!
The first school involved a complete writer/artist-in-residence package, working with the same groups of kids over multiple sessions. This allowed me to introduce a “meaty” project that involved visual brainstorming, writing, and prop-building, something that could be sustained over several sessions. It also offered teachers enough material so that they could continue working on the project after my time at the school ended.
Even though I’ve delivered many residences in the past, this is the first one since before the pandemic where I spent several consecutive days in a row at a school. So, it was an intensive creative output—not only for the students, but also for me! I found myself so energized at the end of each day that I would often head back to my hotel and write in a frenzy for an hour or so.
Each grade was given a different “theme” to work on, which not only helped with some cross-creativity in the school, but kept me energized, so that I wasn’t simply doing the same thing over and over again.
Monster Magic (for the Year 3s)
For this grade, the theme was based around the idea of a character who visits a monster pet store, buys a bet monster-in-a-bottle, then takes it home to hatch it (incorrectly!). The project involved mapping out the pet store, writing hatching instructions, building the actual pet monster-in-a-bottle, and crafting the individual scenes of the story.
Spell-binding Shopping Trip (for the Year 4s)
I invited the students to imagine a character who has been sent to a magical market to locate one specific enchanted item—and then write about it. A big part of this project was imagining the market in detail. We mapped it, imagined food shops and services and brainstormed problems a character might encounter while exploring the market, such as having to barter or survive pick-pockets. We also built miniature brooms, which could either be the items the characters were searching for, or be something that helped them along the way.
Escape from the Wizard’s Library (for the Year 5s)
For this project, we sent characters to retrieve a book from a dangerous library! We mapped out the libraries and worked on specific scenes to bring the situation to life. A fun part of this project was building the actual spell books!
How to Steal from a Dragon (for the Year 6s)
This project involved an examination of character perspective and point of view. We imagined two main characters, the first being a dragon and the second being a thief who wanted to steal a scale from that dragon. This led to many conversations about how we wanted to steer the readers’ sympathies. We wrote legends about the dragons that could be discovered to be false once the more conventional parts of the stories took shape. And, of course, we built the dragon scales!
Once I finished at the first school, I headed to a second one where I spent one session with each grade, from Kindergarten all the way to Grade 8. These were more like a conventional school visits for me. There was no time for prop-building or to review the students’ writing, but we did get to complete some fun visual brainstorming!
As part of my time at the schools, I was also able to do some parent talks, individual mentoring, and a professional development session with teachers. It seemed there was never a dull moment and I’m particularly thankful to all the arrangements made by my hosts. Each residency comes with a unique set of challenges, but dealing with jet lag and a new locale are ones I don’t always have to deal with!
I’m now embarking on another residency at a school closer to home, here in Vancouver. The fun continues (though the food won’t be as good, since I won’t have access to all of that fresh fruit like I did in Bangkok)!
I took this photo when I was in downtown Vancouver recently. I remember feeling compelled to do so (I actually backtracked a few steps to take it after passing by). I didn’t really question what intrigued me about it at the time—I tend to just record things that catch my attention without analyzing the reason.
But when I came across the photo on my phone yesterday, I wondered what intrigued me about the scene. Perhaps the juxtaposition of the alley with the ornate building in the distance? Or the fact that it’s completely devoid of people?
Then I realized I have been taking photos like this for a long time, but more increasingly this past year. I have photos of empty alleys from Seoul, Bangkok, Shanghai, UK, Europe . . . I’m still not sure why I’ve been taking them! But story threads—not to mention inspiration for writing prompts for my creative writing classes—work in odd ways.
Between the Cracks of Here and There 