Bee there or bee square!

The following blog entry was written by Sarah Chassé, a copy editor of READ, Writing, and a whole bunch of other Weekly Reader magazines.

I am a passionate fan of the Scripps National Spelling Bee. I stumbled upon it while channel surfing a few years ago, and I’ve been hooked ever since. But each spring, as I gear up to watch the finals on TV, eager for a new spelling champ to be crowned, my friends and family look at me like I’m a little crazy. They say: What’s so great about a SPELLING bee? And why would I want to watch one live on television? Well, here are three good reasons:

(1) If you’re a word nerd, this is your Super Bowl. Learn some fun, truly bizarre words (appoggiatura! succedaneum!chiaroscurist!) that you can toss into your next essay to wow your teacher.
(2) Ding! That’s the sound no speller wants to hear; it means he or she has spelled a word wrong and is out of the running to win. But for spectators safely in the audience, waiting for the bell creates big-time suspense! (Although, because the word is spelled correctly on the bottom of your TV screen, you know before the speller does whether it’s right. That can be kind of painful to watch.)
(3) You never know what kind of wacky antics you’ll see at the bee. Take 1997’s finals, when winner Rebecca Sealfon was so excited that she pumped her arms in the air while shouting each letter to her final word (euonym):

 
Or 2006, when Akshay Buddiga was so nervous he fainted at the microphone, but still managed to spell his word alopecoid and advance to the next round!
 
Are you convinced? If so, check out the 2008 Scripps National Spelling Bee Championship Finals tonight at 8 p.m. ET on ABC!

Grandfather – Treasured Objects Contest Runner-up

by Catherine Sinks

His unknown age
a dark square house
a couple of feet away
a white home waits
far off in the distance
divine thoughts run through his head

His face caught
with a blank stare
His shadow
more than a shadow
His eyes
obscured

I can’t even remember
the color of his eyes

His hands
closed

But they were
always open to me.

Congratulations to Catherine. She was a runner-up in Writing magazine’s Treasured Objects Contest. Students wrote about their favorite things in such insightful and powerful ways. Check back for the next two weeks to see more runners-up.

A Voice – Treasured Objects Contest Runner-up

by Louis Varriano

Forever waiting
Never knowing Time
As it lies in its black coffin
On the dusty old shelf
Completely forgotten
And without any life

Until I feel
The occasion is right
To take it down
Open its case
And give it a voice
That cries out
To the world
And reaches the soul
In the deepest of places
And all time seems to freeze
As my ears begin to hear
The pure sounds of music
That emanate from the instrustment in my hands

It sings of the happy
And weeps for the sad
As my fingers fly
Up and down its shiny silver back
As I blow a breath of life
Into my once dead and soulless clarinet.

It is not I but it
Who grieves and babbles
And squeaks and roars
And answers and sings
And wails and REACHES us.

My finges stumble,
I no longer know the way
My clarinet’s song and life are over
I clean it out with a quiet reverence
And let it sleep eternally in its cozy bed
As it waits forever
Knowing no time
Until another comes
To give it the breath of life
So that it may sing again.

Congratulations to Louis. He was a runner-up in Writing magazine’s Treasured Objects Contest. Students wrote about their favorite things in such insightful and powerful ways. Check back for the next two weeks to see more runners-up.

Still-life – Treasured Objects Contest Runner-up

by Daniel Valdez

On a sun-striped beach,
waves hit the bank,
making their harmonius music.
Lasting chords of concord
the presence of serenity,
seagulls sang tunes in the distance
while the creatures of the sea quietly listened below.

I felt the sand beneath my world
walking on a trace of infinite dust,
a cushion of lost and wondering clouds.
The sea breeze blew softly,
holding my cheeks lightly,
I soar away with them into
the sky, a golden feast
of Apollo’s magic and strength.

The ocean was a blur of sun
rapid movements of hushed furies.
That is when I spotted it,
a reddish-pink frozen shower of color
curves and contours of perfection:
the seashell, a product of my beloved sea,
always reminding me
of time well-spent on the beach.

Congratulations to Daniel. He was a runner-up in Writing magazine’s Treasured Objects Contest. Students wrote about their favorite things in such insightful and powerful ways. Check back for the next two weeks to see more runners-up.

Secret Keeper – Treasured Objects Contest Runner-up

by Jasmeet Brar

Dolphins riding the waves,
deep indigo waves, a scene caught in time
perched atop this little box
a personal haven in a boisterous world.

A fragile little trinket that says,

“Come share with me, friend.”
Soft, pudgy hands wrap around this
small blue box which is more than a box.

The welcoming air whirling around this
holder of thoughts, of secrets, of dreams.
Sparkling squares throw colors in the light.
My big, brown eyes follow each carefully sculpted contour.

Sitting on a nighstand as the
sun and moon take turns filling their posts
in the sky many times over,
this little box longs to be opened
as the tulips longs for morning so it can blossom.

But now, moonbeams
shine on this little blue box and long to
mingle with the secrets within.

Congratulations to Jasmeet. She was a runner-up in Writing magazine’s Treasured Objects Contest. Students wrote about their favorite things in such insightful and powerful ways. Check back for the next two weeks to see more runners-up.

Suitcase – Treasured Objects Contest Runner-up

by Selena Perkins

The scent of curry still lingers on the insides of my pockets from my last trip. I guarded precious hand-carved statues and necklaces made of exotic beads from the many possible thumps and jabs throughout the journey. I sacrificed a paint chip from my top left corner, right next to my ivory handle, in the airport just before getting on my flight back home. My once gleaming evergreen shell has now been dulled down to a moss green. My cold brass lock, still just as the day I was made, served as a barrier between the world and the secrets hidden amidst layers of rose-pink silk inside.

I traveled to Taiwan, Ethiopia, Iceland, and Cuba. I spent a summer enveloped in Alaska’s never-ending sunlight; I lounged for three weeks, coated in flies, on the coast of Mozambique. Guatemala held the brightest stars I had ever seen.

I was filled with too-ripe plantains and the most vibrant chili peppers the world has to offer. I was engulfed in a sea of drumbeats on my way to a hotel and I watched strikingly beautiful women dance the flamenco on street corners in my haste to catch a flight.

Now I sit in the corner of a teenage girl’s room, my pockets filled with notes passed hastily during history class and dried rose petals commemorating past boyfriends; my brass locks only unlatched every so often to cram in a few more mememtos of youth. Here I’m left, curry burning, aching for the day I will once again see the county the world has to offer.

Congratulations to Selena. She was a runner-up in Writing magazine’s Treasured Objects Contest. Students wrote about their favorite things in such insightful and powerful ways. Check back for the next two weeks to see more runners-up.

Brennan’s World of Books

In the May 2 issue of READ, we asked students to tell us about their experiences “being swept away” into books. Thanks to Brennan Baringer, 14, for responding to the call. Great job Brennan! We hope your “hunger” always persists and you always find the most delicious books to quench it.

Reading is the link to worlds where anything is possible–from gods and goddesses to magic and mythical creatures. It is a fiery passion that descends upon us and casts its luring trap–that makes us want to read more and more. Good books will seize you and never let go. They will lure you in and you will be lost in its pages, shouting for joy and weeping with sorrow at each twist and turn.

When I find a good book I read it heart and soul. I read it over and over hungering evermore for the words that are food for my mind and soul. Characters eventually become part of you. You see them and it almost feels as if they are alive:living, breathing, and feeling. When they get into trouble you want to be there. You want to save them and protect them because they have been there for you and you want to be in the story to save what you treasure.

The most loathesome part of the book is the ending. The book has become a treasured friend and the end is saying farewell. You don’t want an end though, you want to be lost in a neverending story that only ends when your
dragon-sized thirst for the masterpiece is slain.

Student Writing Showcase 2008 is here!

Click here for Student Writing Showcase 2008.

That’s not much fanfare! Well, I could tell you about all the great student writers we have showcased this year. I could discuss the wonderful authors who have leant their voices and commentary (like M.T. Anderson, Karen Cushman, and Cynthia Leitich Smith). I could describe the way neat-o video version of 1,000 Words. I could tell you all about the Letter To Self article and writing prompt. I could write up a super-duper self-promotion that shows in detail how each one of these things makes for a really cool place to chill out, read some excellent student writing, get inspired, and moves you to write whatever your heart desires! I could… and I kind of just did… but I think I’ll just pipe down and let you check it out for yourself.

AND if you do get inspired and DO write something. Send it to us at word@weeklyreader.com. We’re always looking for the best student writers to publish right here on WORD!

Cheers mates! Enjoy!

Turning Ten… Again!

If you haven’t figured out this week’s theme by now… um… it’s birthday poems inspired by Billy Collins. Come on, you knew that!

Turning Ten
by Becky, Grade 6

The whole idea of it makes me feel
Like I can do anything,
Everything.
I can fly with the birds,
I can ride a dragon.
I’m going to turn ten.
Some feel the need
To let go of past games,
Imaginary friends,
All the things considered
Childish.
They think
That turning ten
Means crossing a threshold
From which
You may never return.
But I believe
At 11, 15 or even 30
At heart,
We are still kids.
So opinions are very different,
Unique,
Yet they have one likeness,
Turning ten,
Is
No
Small
Thing.

For the record, I’m 30. And I like to think I’m still a kid at heart. Here’s a couple of monkeys celebrating birthday poem week to prove it. Look! They’re wearing people clothes! Hahahahaha! Oh monkey.

Monkey Birthday Poem!

This seems to be a popular concept here at WORD! Keep your birthday poems coming! Here’s one from a student who managed to incorporate a monkey into her writing! Yay Birthday Monkey poems!

Turning Twelve
-by Emma, 11

The whole idea of it makes me feel
like Christmas came early this year.
Like a monkey in a
forest of banana trees.
Like a young child playing in a cool stream
on a hot summer’s day.
Turning twelve.
Oh, how I wish it would come sooner!
“You may babysit when you are twelve”, my parents say.
I have been eleven for years-an eternity-
or so it seems.
Turning twelve.
The thought of it makes me want to do a a little
dance in place,
or squeal like I do at Christmas, when I open my first present.
Turning twelve.
This is the beginning of
being treated like a teenager,
not a child,
of staying home alone,
of babysitting,
of walking home from school,
of being responsible,
of growing up.
Turning twelve.
How long it takes, but I know it will come.
Someday…
Turning twelve.