National Book Awards and You!

First, as usual, we helped each other in true writers' group fashion perfect our blogged stories. Logan, Ellie and Jacob, you need to rewrite yours on the blog. They are SO good, we all want to read the improved versions!!! You have your notes.

Second, I read you an excerpt of the 2011 winner of the National Book Award for YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE. It is by Thanhha Lai and is called Inside Out & Back Again.

This is the beginning of the excerpt I read to you...

Black and White and Yellow and Red

The bell rings.

Everyone stands. 

I stand.

They line up;

so do I.

Down a hall.

Turn left.

Take a tray.

Receive food.

Sit.

On one side 

of the bright, noisy room

light skin.

Other side, 

dark skin.

Both laughing, chewing,

as if it never occurred 

to them

someone medium 

would show up.

I don't know where to sit 

any more than

I know how to eat

the pink sausage

snuggled inside bread

shaped like a corncob,

smeared with sauces

yellow and red.

I think

they are making fun 

of the Vietnamese flag

until I remember

no one here likely knows

that flag's colors.

I put down the tray 

and wait

in the hallway.

You wrote your own sparse, concrete pieces:

Jacob:

FISHING

blue background

white aerodynamic,

oblong shape.

steering wheel 

and tan seat.

dark green pole

and clear string.

A jerk, a jump,

and a net.

Dinner for everyone. 

Cody:

SKIING

My skis wait.

One pair out-

side, one inside.

I've already 

built a jump.

But it melted.

There's not

much snow

left. I can't 

wait for ski

team to start.
It's so close

now I can

feel it.

December 3rd 

it's on. I'm 

ready.

Logan:

TOAST

I ate

cinnamon toast

and a 

hard boiled

egg.

Cody puts his 

hex bug on the

table. It

makes a high

pitched farting

noise. Otto and 

my mom laugh.

I put my 

finger in some

cinnamon sugar

and suck on 

it. My aunt 

walks down 

stairs with her 

hair sticking 

up like an 

afro. "Otto...

tell Aunt Jess 

thank you for

breakfast."

"Thank you 

Aunt Jess!" 

he says while 

he stuffs 

his toast in his

mouth. 

Ellie:

CHICKEN

My brother eats his chicken

using his fork to spear the meat.

Piling mounds in before chewing.

I watch.

Seeing his teeth open and close.

Stopping to transfer to some potatotes.

String beans.

Wipe his mouth.

And sip his water.

Moving everything to one side of his mouth.

To avoid the fat, swollen lip

He had on his face from days earlier.

He drops his fork on his plate.

Stands.

Grabs his plate.

And leaves. 

Eleanore:

HURRICANE

"Starting tomorrow

everyone needs

to leave the house."

Our small house

I have lived in forever.

The house that is by the river that mixes with the sea.

Why must I go?

Why must WE go?

Why? Because of that hurricane.

The hurricane that killed:

Father

Uncle Joseph

Aunt Layla

Grandpa Richard

Sister Haylee.

There is no TV 

So Mr. Crawford, the weather man, came

to our house.

More storms are coming

He said.

That is why we must leave.

Mine: 

NIKON

(or JK)

My flash is dead

Dead flashes blur human forms.

Sitting, smiling, posing

people

tremble

and leave 

contrails behind them.

Color bleeds too.

What is pale

turns red

or maroon 

or rust.

Dead flashes, 

for a few hundred dollars, 

are replaceable.

Fathers

are 

not.

Great exploring powerful, sparse writing! 

Have a fun Thanksgiving!