Posts on literary magazine

It's an exciting day at the library! Where to start?

1. Tonight is our literary magazine reception. The magazines turned out beautiful! If you're curious how they turned out, you can download my group's magazine as a PDF (2.7 MB), or visit my department's scrapbook page. (The image quality isn't fantastic because, uncompressed, the file clocked in at 10 megs. But it'll give you a good idea, anyway.) If you're going to read just one story, make it "Night of the Living Food," about the ingenious inventor Doctor Bob, his equally clever son Billy, and a town full of evil, mutant food. If this kid (who was incredibly prolific this summer) doesn't continue in the footsteps of Dav Pilkey, I will be very sad.
2. In November I get to work the day there's an OSTRICH at the library! A live ostrich! They're going to keep him in the storage closet beforehand so he doesn't get overstimulated! I can't wait!!!
3. We got our latest shipment from the ALA Store, including Babymouse and Wimpy Kid posters and bookmarks, a Danica Patrick poster (one of my coworkers loves race cars), and a Cesar Millan poster (which that same coworker sweetly ordered with me in mind)! So now I'll have the Dog Whisperer and Daddy (Millan's tried and true rock of a pit bull) staring out from my office window. Did you know there's a Twilight READ poster, too? There is, truly, no escape.

A few months back, Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect posted a suggestion to write "colorful" poetry based on Hailstones and Halibut Bones, by Mary O'Neill. I remembered that my own third grade teacher used that very book with us way back when, and I'd written several four-line verses on different colors. But I didn't step up to the challenge until this week, when I used O'Neill's book as part of my junior literary magazine's opening exercise. If I was asking them to write a colorful poem, shouldn't I do it, too?

So, here's the first non-doggerel poem I've written in... I have no idea how long... five hundred years? It's a rather sentimental ode on summer and the color pink. You have been warned. (Thanks to Jim Danielson for the encouragement last week. Jim, for the record, this took me considerably longer than 15 minutes.)

PINK SUMMER
Dawn smears pink fingers across the dark lake.
Fifty mosquito bites itch you awake.
The day is a strawberry, poised at your lips,
a wheel of melon without any pips.
Out to pick raspberries in the cool morn,
your legs tic-tac-toed by each saber-tooth thorn.
Now run to the beach, let the sun bake you sore.
Gobble a hotdog, then gobble two more.
A peppermint ice cream cone stickies your face
as pink sun melts away and pink moon takes its place.

Catch this week's Poetry Friday round-up at The Well-Read Child!

The local rag did a nice feature on my library's summer literary magazine programs: Library publishes young writers through Lit Mag program.

I don't sound like an idiot in my quotes. Most of the facts are right (though I have 7-year-olds and 5th graders in my group), and there's only one egregious typo I can spot as of this writing. And, best of all, the kids sound enthusiastic about the program. That makes me extraordinarily happy.

Over the course of the summer so far, I've had 58 kids show up. Two thirds have been repeat participants, and more than one-third have come to at least half the meetings, ensuring their work's spot in the magazine.

We've got just one more meeting, and then I've got to bust my buns getting the print layout done for my group and the web sites together for both my group and the older group. Since I'm doing all the web stuff, I'm hoping I can foist dealing with the print shop off on my colleague...

This is the third summer in a row I've run a creative writing program for kids at my library. My first summer, I stepped in to run the summer literary magazine for grades 5–9 (which the library has run for quite a few years now). Last summer, when a new coworker volunteered to do the literary magazine, I ran a write-a-book program for grades 3–5.

And this summer, I'm doing a "junior" literary magazine for grades 2–5. It sounds a lot more formal than it is. I do very little in the way of teaching. Basically, I provide the time, the space, the outlet, and the encouragement. The kids do the rest. I can take no credit for their boundless creativity, thoughtfulness, and humor.

At the end of the summer, I'll gather their stories, poems, drawings, and comic strips into magazine format. We send it to an outside printer. All contributors will get a copy (I hope a couple), the library will acquire a couple copies, and I'll put the material online, too.

I try to keep my talking to a minimum for a few reasons. First, I have the worst allergy-related cough in the universe this month. Second, the more I talk about particular ways of writing, the more confusion there is. Third, 80% of them have absolutely no trouble thinking of things to write without me offering suggestions—and the remaining 20% manage to think of something with just a little nudging. Fourth, I love seeing what they do when they do things their own way.

This isn't school time, it's play time—creative play. My job is to smile and say, "I love it! Tell me more! Keep it up!" And occasionally act as Human Dictionary (though I try to convince them not to worry about spelling on their first drafts).

I cringe every time a kid asks me, "Can I write about X? Can I draw Y? Can I use the colored pencils? Can I use the pencil sharpener? Can I go to the bathroom?" They're so used to asking permission for everything (thank you, school). The answer I give them every time is, "YES!"

The first week, I had 25 kids show up. The second week (the week of July 4), I had 22. This week, a whopping 37. I had to double-check my counting, I couldn't believe it! Most of them are repeat customers at this point—all of whom stayed on task the entire hour without a word from me!

Today, I started typing up some of their work, reading it as I went along. I'm so charmed by their creativity and humor. I can't wait to put it up on the web—so I can brag, of course, even though I can take no credit for their accomplishments!