Cambia 2018 by The Cabin, a center for readers & writers

CAMBIA Writers in the Schools 2018

THE CABIN

CAMBIA cambium \kam-bÄ&#x201C;-em\ noun plural cambia, \- bÄ&#x201C;-e\ The live, actively growing, layer of a tree. The cambium is one cell thick. It repeatedly divides itself to form new wood and causes the tree to grow and expand.

CAMBIA Writers in the Schools 2017 - 2018

This is a Log Cabin Book, an imprint of THE CABIN 801 S. Capitol Boulevard, Boise, Idaho 83702 (208) 331-8000 www.thecabinidaho.org ÂŠ 2018 The Cabin All rights reserved. Book design by Hillary Bilinski Printed and bound in the USA in an edition of 250 copies.

WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS AND PUBLICATION OF CAMBIA ARE MADE POSSIBLE BY GENEROUS SUPPORT FROM: Boise Cascade Company The City of Boise First Interstate Bank Harvest Foundation Idaho Community Foundation Idaho Commission on the Arts Idaho Power Laura Moore Cunningham Foundation Mary Bradof Foundation National Endowment for the Arts Simplot Foundation and The Whittenberger Foundation

WE EXTEND SINCERE THANKS TO THE FACULTY AND ADMINISTRATION OF: Ada County Juvenile Detention Borah High School BRIDGE Program Frank Church High School Foothills School of Arts and Sciences Idaho Distance Education Academy Liberty Elementary School Marian Pritchett High School Roosevelt Elementary Rose Hill Montessori School Seven Oaks Elementary Southwest Idaho Regional Detention Center West Canyon Elementary

CONTENTS Introduction • 1 Idaho Distance Education Academy • 5 Rose Hill Montessori School • 14 Roosevelt Elementary School • 20 Liberty Elementary • 30 Foothills School of Arts and Sciences • 41 West Canyon Elementary School • 64 Seven Oaks Elementary • 85 Marian Pritchett High School • 123 Frank Church High School • 137 Borah High School Bridge Program • 145 Ada County Juvenile Detention Center • 156 Soutwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center • 170 Teaching-Writers’ Biographies • 176 About The Cabin • 180 Index • 182

INTRODUCTION Writers in the Schools through The Cabin is celebrating over 20 years of literary arts enrichment in area schools and detention centers. In the 2017-18 school year, our caring teaching-writers cultivated a love of writing and reading through poetry, iction and multi-genre residencies in over 20 classrooms in local schools and detention centers. They served nearly 700 young students. As a beginning teaching-writer in a small classroom at Liberty Elementary, The Cabin entrusted me with inspiring young writers to open their hearts and minds to poetry. Now, four years later, I know the numbers belie a larger and quieter story about the democratizing power of education and free writing’s role in manifesting a whole generation’s future visions. When we ask students to trust and hear the writing inside them and take that quiet moment to let their imaginations - their compassionate, funny, zany, and spellbinding imaginations come to life on the page in the form of descriptive language, magic happens. Our WITS Statement of Beliefs says that “We believe in the transformative power of being heard.” WITS gives young writers a space free of judgment, even if for one minute, that leaves them and us changed for the better. It’s meant to foster a positive relationship with writing through fun, collaborative and creative lessons from local writers. This relationship oten afects their conidence in other areas of their education as well. As teaching-writer Laura has said, “schools are the places where community is forged and reckoned for the better.” The work and crat of each writer in this book is doing this work in an incredible way. It is the highlight of my year to read through these pieces and witness the amazing wisdom in WITS students’ words. The delight of seeing some similar truths about ourselves pour forth from students ranging from a public school third grader to a new immigrant high schooler reminds us all that our capacity for radical empathy remakes the limits of our world. We are so grateful to the donors, teaching-writers, classroom teachers, school administrators, and sources that make WITS possible. And of course to the writers, I always say thank you to you here, but your power lies inside the words of this book. Thank you for bringing care, thoughtfulness, joy, and bravery to your WITS lessons. We have so much to learn from what’s inside. Katie Fuller Program Manager & Teaching-Writer THE CABIN

CAMBIA Writers in the Schools 2017 - 2018

IDAHO DISTANCE EDUCATION ACADEMY Teaching-Writer Tracy Sunderland

BROTHERS Charles Idaho Distance Education Academy To: George, faithful friend, and brother I remember when the leaves turned red and the ground ran damp. We had been looking for adventure, so we threw on our hats and took out our bikes, the autumn air was crisp and thick. The â&#x20AC;&#x153;ricka racka pik pacâ&#x20AC;? of the bike chain, the nutty pine smell of the forest rushed in our faces, clouding our senses. My feet in an endless circular movement, the balance we keep is natural in our movements. Our arms gracefully shit let as we turn. My friend, and brother foremost, and I had taken of on the long forest trail. Away in the great Ponderosa forest. Where the trees are tall, and the sights endless. The tall stalking pines dance, the brown gray rocks and dirt set the mystical scene that we are living, and the green blue lake, and blue sky wave longingly as we go by. The sky was perfectly blue, it faded to a light shade on the lonely horizon. Not a cloud hung that day, the sky was untarnished, as if it was fake. We were far away from civilization. We were scared but our sense of being free overcame our fear. Trickle trap split splat They fell slowly from the tall trees Patiently they wait It was us against the world. He was ten, I was nine, we had thought we were old enough to do anything. Although we would be proven wrong time and time again by our cruel society and world. Never would he or I give up though. Only time would tell what would become of us. The world was a pack of wolves, we were sheep, lambs in the open. Time what does it mean Trapped in its clutches I wait on As we go deeper into the world of ours we gained reason and a sense of adventure. Nature, we thought, was the only adventure that could be true. Nature would be the one thing so beautiful that whenever we felt down, or like the light in our mind was 6

running dim. Nature would rekindle our imagination. When my brother and I fall apart and lose sight of hope we will always ind each other with one common denominator. A hike, or a ishing trip, or a campout. So now, nature has turned us from sheep to wolves, it has taught us much over the years and now whenever she beckons, we will joyously go and embark on the next adventure. Even if we do not know what it will bring. Like a horn it calls Like moths to light we answer And we go as Brothers

CABANA ISLAND BLUE Sabrina Idaho Distance Education Academy 1 I woke up and looked straight at the sun. I loved how my eyes could look at the sun and not even squint. I got ready as fast as I could. It was morning and no one way saying, “Cabana, where are you?” My full name is Cabana Island Blue. The rain forest was very green for a rainy morning, but the rain stopped by the time I stepped outside my house. My sky-blue jumpsuit was the very color of the sky this morning, my black leather belt and boots were as shiny as the leaves on the trees. My skin was the color of the sea, a dark blue-ish green, my hair the color of tree bark, a dark rich brown, my eyes were purple. I knew because when I looked at a puddle there was my relection. Sometimes I sat and wondered how God made all the world and how it was beautiful. I was an alien, I cared for the animals in the world and when night fell on my world, the crickets chirped. I now looked up from my thoughts and it was night. I ran faster and faster to get home. I was nearing the house when a feeling hit me - ater 11 pm I would not be able to get home. At the end, it seemed, I lew - I ran so fast as I made it back by 10:59 pm. I thanked God for letting me get back in time. Ater I had prayed and thanked God, I lay my head on the light gray pillow and reached my hand out to turn out the light. 2 As I started to close my eyes, I heard a noise - a cricket. I loved the noise and ventured outside to see one. I saw a small black insect on a leaf in the big dark jungle. The stars illed the night sky, the small cricket caught sight of me and in its panic to get out of my sight, it tumbled from the leaf to the ground. I knelt down and took the cricket in my hand and I could feel the small insect in my hand struggling to be free. Its legs moved quick, it ran from side to side in my hand. In the small mind of the cricket, it thought: “This thing will turn us over to the animals of the jungle and we will never see the stars again.” But all I could see was the small insect struggling to be free. I went down on my knee. I felt my knee-length long-sleeve nightgown touch the sot wet dirt. On the jungle ground, I let the small 8

insect slip from my hands. I watched as the cricket crawled to the bush and disappear before my eyes. Then the bush began to make a noise. The crickets were singing. I smiled and got to my feet and walked to my house and went to bed and dreamed of the crickets. 3 My eyes opened, I saw the sun creep in the closed door of my house. I pulled back the covers and ran to the door. I decided I would not take time to get ready. I wanted to go right now. I opened the door and started of. “We watch her do it every day,” said one of the crickets who was looking out on the jungle from the bush. “Yes, but she seems harmless,” said another. “But we have Little Star scared half to death because the girl picked her up,” Seeman said. “She will get over it,” said Bradin. “Maybe,” said the Head Cricket, and he dismissed the generals. I myself seemed to know the truth. I would never get over the fear because I was Star the cricket. I had the feeling that someone was watching me. “Cabana,” someone whispered from a distance. Someone was calling my name - “Cabana.” Then I listened. I was dreaming. I started to walk home, as I walked by a very green bush, I heard a noise, but it talked in a strange language. “Hello,” I said. I heard it again from the bush. A small black insect.

IF ONLY Levi Idaho Distance Education Academy A sea cucumber is such a bore it crawls along the ocean loor but here is a non-boring story even though itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s written poorly Jeremy the sea cucumber awoke from a deep slumber he broke out of his cage and nearly devoured my poem page he quickly got to work on the door then promptly at my bedroom loor he grew to an abnormal size I could not believe my own two eyes and he ate the entire house ate the principal and his spouse heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d eat the elementary school and then would refresh himself and drink the public pool their normal lives he would disrupt if only he would just wake up

THE LAND OF MUSIC Annie Idaho Distance Education Academy The story thus far: Cat, an archeologist, works for a company that recently discovered 40,000-year-old lutes. A snotty, rich patron convinces the staf to join her for a celebratory meal, leaving Cat alone to guard the precious lutes. Cat is overcome with the powerful urge to play one….. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking (because I didn’t consider the fact that I was alone), I cautiously picked up the lute and pressed my lips to the hole. I blew in and sot notes swirled around me. Not just metaphorically, but literally. Wait a minute, I thought. I can see the notes moving. I stopped playing to get a closer look. The beautiful and intricate chords faded away before I could see them better. Then I had an insane thought. What if the music I was playing… was creating those notes? I started to play a rapid song. The notes appeared again, moving at a faster pace this time. I stopped, and they let just as quickly as before. “Whoa,” I whispered. I launched into my favorite song on the lute - Songs from a Secret Garden. I’m not the best at it, but I’d never heard it this beautiful and clear. I could feel tears running down my cheeks as I released all the loneliness I’d felt this week into the song. The notes were now swaying sotly with the images made by this beautifully sad piece. Suddenly, the lab exploded. Not in a violent way, but the laboratory I was sitting in was replaced by a mystical world. It would be better to say it exploded with life and color. The notes once circling me were now lying to what I assumed were clouds--which, conveniently, looked exactly like the notes themselves. A sot green-blue grass brushed against my bare feet. But I had brought shoes to work, so why weren’t they here? A metallic taste was in my mouth, which also confused me, because the lute should have tasted like dirt. I glanced down to see that the lute was now a full sized modern day instrument, but this one had engravings of roses and vines. Everything was so beautiful, I couldn’t help but gasp. Of course, the moment I stopped playing, everything disappeared. I was in a practically colorless lab again, holding a hollow bone and wearing shoes. It took me a while to realize that in order to be in that universe, I had to be playing the lute. I took the largest breath I could muster and placed my mouth on the lute’s hole once more…..

THE BLACK HOLE Rachel Idaho Distance Education Academy Chapter 1 As the irst astronaut to near a black hole, Sara J. White, was on the edge of her fancy seat. Her breath hastened as the Red Giant behind her swerved into the black hole, dragging the Selene 3 with it into the event horizon. “This is very bad” Sara said to herself as she frantically tried to send a message to NASA space headquarters before she entered the black hole. “I am being dragged into the black hole!” Sara hurriedly said into the microphone. As Sara entered the hole she was thankful the ship was made of clapsium, the newest material made of neutrons touching each other. Going through the black hole, Sara let loose all the emotions that had been bottled up over the years. The pain, dejection, being unwanted, and all the hate received from the world; and her response, which had been more hate. Until that one day she shut it down, no more emotions, and that became her policy. That day she wanted to end it all but could not bring herself to do it. Then she signed up to do the Selene 3, training every day until the trip began. The only reason she signed up was because she heard there was little chance of survival. “Ow!” Sara said, her head pounding as she tried to stand up but then she unbuckled herself. She stood up and looked around the room wondering if the planet she was on had aliens and where she was. “What do I have to work with?” Sara looked around. The room had no windows, a couple of blank monitors, a nice chair, and two doors - one to the control room and the other to the living quarters. Heading for the control room, Sara checked the atmosphere, “Interesting, the atmosphere is better than earth’s in every way.” she murmured. Sara opened the airlock to check out her surroundings, she took a deep breath, and headed out. A wave of warm but blinding sunlight, brighter than the brightest day on earth, engulfed her as she stepped out and the air smelt sweet like lowers, rich earth, and happy summer aternoons. As her eyes adjusted, Sara surveyed her surroundings, found that the spaceship had crashed in a lush forest with leaves of goldish color, and realized that she and the spaceship were under heavy 12

guard. Her captors were armed with swords and shields or stafs and were like fairytale elves. They were all males and looked strong and very athletic. They had noticed her. Blindfolding her they started to walk. To where, Sara didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t knowâ&#x20AC;Ś

ROSE HILL MONTESSORI SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Elizabeth Barnes

THE PLAIN OF THE SEA Reid Rose Hill Montessori School The waves crashing on the beach foaming, churning, Salt water splashing in the Caymans. But we are far out loating over the reef And the dolphin of love diving over the board and us Freely swimming, bringing, me and you Together. You feel free. We feel free. Floating. Our hearts smiling and the water glistening The dolphin stroking its tail through the water Sending pulses we feel as love. Yet far back at shore the water still crashes Pulling at us, bringing us in To the ierce shore where we must return. But before the wave the dolphin draws us in the circle of love Then we leave Into the crashing waves Leaving the reef, the water, the dolphin, And the solitary plain of the sea. To the protective reef, the glistening water, the dolphin of love, and the solitary, restful, calm Plain of the sea It is here The dolphin gliding between Binding us Keeping us together ever far apart. And it always will Anywhere for eternity So we can return to The growing reef, the shining water, the dolphin which is always with us, And the solitary, restful, calm, binding Plain of the sea.

A SURPRISING CONCLUSION Jackson Rose Hill Montessori School Particles driting Simulating Generating Researching Dynamic Vapor Absorbing Snow on the Red Planet

ODE TO THE WATERS OF THE WORLD Justice Rose Hill Montessori School Next to the crowded beach An endless void A never-ending force Crashing Eroding The waters of life. On the edge of land All around The waters of life. Everywhere The water of hope The burden of the world All the tears Of all the people Of the world Here. More water, unexpected. The warm sand Sot beneath the weight Of the endless sky The happiness The laughing The shore On the edge Of the abyss. A shadow The current Threatening Deepest night Pitch black A home of life Of death Of joy Of sadness Of night Of day. The gull White as snow Flying Flying Over the water Crystal clear depths Water of the world. 17

MY DREAM OF THE WORLD Daniel F. Rose Hill Montessori School I used to dream of the world Not corrupted Like an animal, its fear turned to hatred, torn apart by power and anger. I used to dream Of a small window Of hope. I know dream, Of the world Like an apple blossom. So fragile yet thriving with life. I dream of a world not touched by poverty and hunger. Like a baby animal abandoned. I dream of the world not touched By poverty and hunger. Not torn by war. I dream of a place That knows no sadness. Like a new-born calf. That was my dream. That is my dream. That is my goal.

MY PAPA (A TRUE STORY) Eva H. Rose Hill Montessori School My Papa Mike, my Papa would take me to Mexico. He would teach me how to swim. He would put his hand under me while I backloated. Until he started hurting. Cancer One day, on the 4th or 5th trip to Mexico, my Papa couldn’t help me swim because his back was hurting. This went on until the end of our trip. Ater the trip he went straight to the doctor. Then terrible news struck us. My Papa was in the 4th stage of pancreatic cancer. The Shocking News One day I was playing downstairs in our playroom when I heard someone crying. I raced across the hall to my brother’s room and asked what was wrong? He said, “I think Mom and Dad are crying.” I went upstairs, and sure enough, mom and dad were wiping their eyes. I had never seen them cry before. We had thought that the doctors could remove the cancer. But now, all hope was lost. The cancer had spread too far. The Trip My Mom and Dad said that we were going to move to Phoenix, Arizona for the rest of my Papa’s life. So we cleaned up our house, called a U-haul to take most of our stuf, and crammed our van with suitcases that held our clothes. We got an apartment. We stayed there until Papa was released from the hospital. We then moved to Twin Falls until the death of my Papa. Death My Papa died on September 14th, 2017 at 1:00 A.M. My mom and dad woke me up and asked if I wanted to see the dead body. I was sleepy and made a bad choice by saying no and going back to sleep. The regret for saying no continues through my life. Spreading Ashes We spread my Papa’s ashes at his funeral. The military gave his wife, Diane, a lag for working in the military. His ashes were spread at the ceremony while we cried. I still have not healed from his death.

ROOSEVELT ELEMENTARY SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Laura Roghaar

FABRIC ON THE FLOOR Ali Roosevelt Elementary School I have chewed Landonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s little stufed animal dog It is not nearly as cute as me at all but he still probably wanted to sleep with it Forgive me, it was so squishy sot when the fabric ripped

SILENCE Lillian Roosevelt Elementary School This is a world where there is no talking. We stay silent just like bats sleeping in the warmest part of the barn. You might be looking out a window so silent, you can’t even hear yourself breathe. Your thoughts will be lited to the clouds and will travel to one person, then another. You want to talk to them but you can’t. It is very hard work. In the air millions and millions of thoughts travel from place to place like a momma bird getting food for her babies, But on sunny days, sometimes thoughts will get sucked into the sun so they won’t travel anymore, and all you can do about it is sit and think some more. The city is quiet. No honking, no yelling at stealers, No nothing. Just a city, silent. Everyone with their eyes shut and mouth shut, everything shut tight, sitting there silent, their mouths tingling with ideas but they can’t talk, their mind going around and around with ideas but they can’t let them out, their faces tight like a ladybug. Everything still and silent.

MY MOM ISâ&#x20AC;Ś Kessler Roosevelt Elementary School My mom is a diamond that will turn into an emerald. A gold medal in 1,000 bronze medals. A lower. Like a rock. A light in a cave. An antique lower pot. A wacky duck. A cup of hot cocoa in the winter. A line of 500 people. A rainbow ater the rain. The irst snowlake of winter. She is a light in my heart. My mom is ! ! fun!

FIVE-PAINTING GALLERY Tabitha Roosevelt Elementary School Calendar I took the calendar Of the shelves I looked at it Memories swarming me Astronauts making Annual records Wool from sheep An exquisite eucalyptus Perception of the zoo doorway Then back to the calendar I look

The Weatherman I was unwrapping The library The weatherman came Said he, â&#x20AC;&#x153;go homeâ&#x20AC;? He had sung and did sing The trees are dying The books ripped and the moniker gone

Fire Fire destroyed history A speck of three pictures Vanished The mystery be The animal came In color vivid and bright Vanished in gray

Library Demon I went to the library Ignoring Suzana I picked up a book â&#x20AC;&#x153;The moniker hate destroys and gorges sheep in a barnâ&#x20AC;? Then I woke up

Versatile Memories The picture of ires The aspects of versatile memories The barn blew up Unwrapping the hidden treasure Not dollars and cents But the most valuable Words and memories of Past Times

WHEN MY HEART BEATS Anna Roosevelt Elementary School When my heart beats it sounds like one million people banging at drums Like many children ighting over the last piece of candy Like a mouse skittering across the kitchen loor Like a ticking clock or the applauding of many people ater a play My heart beats like someone walking through the halls of an abandoned building When my heart beats I feel like a lonely, sad person walking the streets of a city at night or the approaching of a sad event

HADES LABYRINTH Griin Roosevelt Elementary School 1. Wind whispering through shadowy corridors, a choice, any choice. 2. Bells ringing in the distance, so close, yet so far. 3. Ten doors, only one is right. Almost there, but never there. 4. A dark staircase, a shadowed corridor. Whispering, whispering. 5. They come in, so conident. But the twisting paths fool them. And murder lurks in the depths of a maze. 6. There is no option. Only to become one of the deceased. Their screams echo throughout the maze. Beware.

OUR WORLD Jayde Roosevelt Elementary School This is a world where everything is possible, and we can touch every star in the dark nighttime sky. This is a world where any animal you imagine will come to life. Our sun is so bright it feels like youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re standing right in front of it, but I like it, it makes me feel powerful. In our world, a touch of the ground will make a forest. This is a world where everything is born.

MY BROTHER IS A CAT Luke P. Roosevelt Elementary School My cat is a piece of hard candy He has a permanent grin He’s his own enemy Like dull claws He is not my last name An old movie Little together A shadow at night A deep forest My dad But nothing A canyon in the earth The last survivor A clone Hypnosis A pink kite at midnight A spotted lightbulb Sirens blaring from a police car A howl from a werewolf Cotton candy on the asphalt Desperate children A plaid coat Electrical wire Old pencils Two identical streetlights Eyes without color A campire Cocoon hatching Morning at midnight An astronaut in space He’s like a clock on a computer screen Sharp blades in twin caves A black Expo marker Scribbling on a whiteboard A businessman with sunglasses Like a tiny panda A letter to my grandma Moonlight on the water A rubik’s cube An old baby My friend My family My brother

LIBERTY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Heidi Kraay

RUINS an excerpt Avery A. Liberty Elementary School In the deserts of the Mochi Mountains, on cold summer mornings, creatures came out while it was calm to go to the oasis for fruit to eat for the cold, fresh dew. The plant creatures oten stole the wild cockatoos from each other, while the self-balancing ones would cause small tornados to knock the fruit of the trees. The last type would go to the leaves to drink dew before they smelled the black darkness coming. The darkness came one fateful night. None of the creatures were ready. The darkness turned the place into Ruins. Chapter 1 One burning summer day, a young human came and found the ruins. The darkness sensed her and caused the ire eruptions. The eruptions were common and had a horrible efect on the creatures, because ire creatures came out of the eruptions and vanished quick, because they had no ash bed to lie in. No ash bed to keep their souls burning. One day, the human was able to save a ire creature from vanishing. It was not easy. She needed money to save it, which was hard to ind on a planet that was 2,000 light years away. Chapter 2 The human got some mail from some other people in the mountain range. There was Cella, a rancher who collected the creatures, Fiven, a rancher who created homes for the creatures, Ivan, a rancher who grew food for the creatures, Bob, a rancher who is a tower of creatures, then Mochi Mountains. She also got mail from Casey, her true love from planet earth, telling her that they miss her and theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re saving up to come to her. Chapter 3 All of the ranchers were scared of the center of the Mochi Mountains. The center was hollow with big gaps that you can easily fall into. If you ever would fall in, you would get trampled by the quicksilver creatures, the creatures the Mochi

family makes all their money of of. Recently, the Mochi family asked Fiven to create warp pads to easily warp to diferent ranches. Fiven had a hard time making them and made one for everyone he knew. Of course, he had forgotten about the young human he had just met. Cella invited the human over, whose real name was Tabby. Cella told Tabby to go over to visit Fiven so she could get a warp pad. Tabby walked over to the warp pad and chose Fiven’s picture and stepped on. Chapter 4 Once Tabby made it to Fiven’s ranch, Fiven’s creatures ran of. They hadn’t seen any other brown-skinned ranchers, besides Fiven. Fiven got scared too. He thought he turned his warp pad of. He grabbed Tabby by the arm and pulled her into his barn. Fiven hadn’t seen another human like him in a couple years. Fiven’s creature he was researching was thrashing around in its cage. Fiven was researching a quicksilver creature. It was bright silver with a loating lag-like thing on its head. The silver creature was thrashing and burst out of its cage. Tabby grabbed a nearby device and shot a bubble at the silver creature, stopping it in time. Tabby used so much force she fell over and passed out.

MIKE an excerpt Or Liberty Elementary School “We are goin’ down!” screamed the captain, almost drowned out by the immense noise of the engines exploding. The ship crashed, smack dab in the middle of the enemy’s base. Game Over lashed on my X-Box screen. I threw the controller down in frustration. “How could the Administration of International Invasion Protection (AIIP for short) expect kids to ight aliens that have so superior technology?!” I screamed, basically to no one. I got up. The room reeked of fried gaming components and midnight snacks. “Welcome, Mike,” the automated voice said. “Hello Sean,” I grumbled. I programmed Sean a few years ago, about a year and a half ater I got accepted into the AIIP training academy. “Would you like me to replay the highlights of your last battle?” Sean asked. “No,” I replied. “Just get my sleeping pod ready.” I woke up in the morning to my alarm clock. I fumbled groggily for the of switch. I got up, still half asleep. Ater I inished getting ready, I started down the hall for the meal room. Before I could even take two steps, Yoel burst out of his room. “Sup Yoel,” I said, already used to his morning routine of trying to scare me each morning. Yoel had an interesting backstory. He came from a Jewish family, which were killed by the third invasion when he was three. Since then, he lived with his constantly drunk uncle in Persia. Once he had his bar mitzvah at age 13 (13 is also the minimum age to get into AIIP training), he applied the same day and one day later, he was on the same space transporter as me, launching into the stratosphere heading for the AIIP training grounds on Planet X11 (a.k.a. Stargazer, which was two light years away from earth). Of course, we humans had already found a way to warp space and time all the way back in 3034, meaning it took us just under an hour to get there. By that time, Yoel and I had both shared our stories and became friends. He told me that he excelled at math and was only coming to the

AIIP to get revenge for his dead family. “How was last night’s game?” Yoel asked. “Horrible,” I replied. “What happened?” “Sector No. 330 was hit and it took out all our ground troops, and then our paraplane was hit and we crashed.” “Ouch.” “How was yours?” I asked Yoel. “Pretty good,” he replied. Before he could explain what happened, the alarm started going of. I sighed, “Drill or false alarm?” “Probably a false alarm again.” “Yeah.” “Let’s go get breakfast,” he said. “Sure.” We started down the hall, ignoring the guards that were frantically suiting up to see what the problem was. I knew it was probably nothing, a nearby air tank was hit by a pebble, for example. We entered the meal room, not surprised by the lack of students there. Most of them were noobs, crying to their parents and rushing in the explosion safe bunkers. Turns out that wasn’t a bad idea ater all.

CAMPING an excerpt Hannah Liberty Elementary School “Mom? Dani? Cooper? Where are you? Are you okay?” I asked. My bones were shaking. I could smell the smoke that quickly illed the air and I could see blood dripping down my face. “Hannah? Is that you? I think I broke my arm, but that’s not important. Right now we need to get Cooper and Mom!” Dani replied weakly. “I’m right here,” Cooper said, grabbing my arm. “Mom?” we all yelled in unison. “I’m right here! I broke my leg! I can’t move! You guys have to ind help!” My mom replied. “We’ll go ind the guy in the truck!” I replied. “He’ll help!” “He ran away!” Dani said as we were getting out of the smoky mess. “We’ll have to walk back to the campsite!” I said. “It’s ive miles away! That’s gonna take hours,” Cooper complained. “We can call someone, but we’ll have to push the airbag out of the way to get our phones,” Dani said. “I think you’re the only one strong enough, Dani. You broke your arm though!” I replied. “Oh, well then, we’re of to the campsite,” Dani said. Later that day, ater walking one mile, we started to ight! It started with Cooper saying, “My feet hurt!” Dani replied with, “My arm hurts, because I broke it.” “Could you guys please stop, I already have a headache,” I said, rubbing the cut on my forehead. That is what started the eruption. Everybody ighting about who’s more miserable. “Stop!!!” Cooper screamed. “I hear something in the bushes.” The wind started to scream. The trees were shaking and the sound came back, more rustling in the bush. “It’s probably just an animal,” Dani said. “No, it’s been following us,” Cooper said. “Run!” Dani yelled. She must have seen something I

couldn’t see, because she was running like there was no tomorrow. About twenty minutes later, we were back where we started, at the crash. Except it wasn’t what it looked like before. It was illed with ire trucks, police and ambulance. We were safe, but there were a few things I wasn’t sure of. What was that in the bush? What did Dani see? Why was Cooper let uninjured? And why did the guy in the truck run? I guess I’ll never know, but that’s how life works. Some things are mysteries.

A FOREST OF CATS an excerpt Brody Liberty Elementary School

You see a desert. You feel the sand and the hot air. You feel the jagged sand. You hear the sand crunching. You taste the burning hot air going down your throat and melting your spine too much. The sand an orange as if a ire has been turned to stone. There is no sign of even a lake of coolness in the hot desert air. You smell a sweet scent, but where could that be in the middle of a burning desert? It seems as if the sand isn’t the only thing covering the terrain. The jagged sand is as sharp as a needle piercing through your sot skin. You can taste the panic. You can taste regret, wishing you never stepped foot in what seems to be torture. You could hear ringing from your ears, but it begs the question: what do you hear? Are you going deaf? The only thing louder than the painful ringing is the sot, gentle sound of water rushing so fast it wouldn’t have a chance to say hello. You feel calmed from the kind water telling you, “It’s okay.” You see tainted grey water from the dark night sky. Are you on earth, or somewhere billions of light years away? You never noticed how much you need food and water until now. You slowly skid your way over to the river. The taste horrid, as if the water was in a place where water is never puriied. You dip your head in, and instantly repel. Where are you now? Imagine a cat. Just your average pet. Yep, that’s you. You’re sitting in front of a forest. You look back, and you see a small town. You can hear the sounds of the forest. “Your life could be better with us.” You hear a voice. “Huh?” you ask. “We’re a group of cats that were treated poorly by our owners. We live in the forest. Your life will be better with us! So, would you like to join us?” The voice asks. You accept. Now you can see them, a golden-coated cat, and a white-coated cat. “What’s your name?” the white-coated cat asks. “Simeon,” you reply hastily. “Come with us, Simeon. We take you to our home,” the white one says. They run of as fast as the river’s water rushed. You instantly follow behind. The three of you bolt past logs, fallen trees and other

stuf. Once you stop running to see your destination: so many cats grooming, sleeping, anything. The white cat from earlier jumps onto a tall pile of rocks and calls out, “Gather round! We have an announcement!” The golden cat from earlier approaches you. “I forgot to say. That’s Emraid. She’s the leader of the pack, and I am the assistant. My name’s Gravis.” “Thanks for the info,” you reply. “We’re having a new member join our home. Simeon will be waiting for a mentor. Would anybody volunteer?” Emraid announces. A ginger-coated cat with rusty brown eyes emerges from the shadows. “I will,” he says boldly.

THE CAVE an excerpt Seth Liberty Elementary School I stood there looking around and it was a summer day. It was humid and there was a waterfall with rippling water at the bottom. Birds were everywhere, chirping and tweeting. The wind made the trees move. The moss was sot under my feet, almost like standing on the smoothest, sotest blankets ever. There was a blue sky above with clouds, birds and even a plane. Its loud motor was loud, but ater, you had the amazing sound of the birds and the trees more than ever. It was paradise there in the best, sweetest place ever. With all of the colors, blue, purple, orange and green. There was a big gust of wind that made the trees whip around. Then, I remembered that I love running, so I thought that I might take a run to look at the surroundings even better. When I was running, I saw all of the diferent animals there. It was astonishing how many diferent colors there were. All of a sudden, they ran. I had no idea what was going on. Then, I saw a huge black bear. It was probably iteen feet tall. I had no clue what I was going to do. Then I started to run. It ran ater me, but because it was so big, it couldn’t run very fast, but I was wrong. It all of a sudden picked up speed and caught up to me. I was ready for it to try to eat me, but instead, it picked me up and put me on its back. I was so scared that I didn’t realize what had happened. I had my eyes closed, but I opened them and saw that I was riding the bear instead of it chasing me or eating me. It ended up taking me into a cave with a lot more people. They explained that it will take people in as if they were her own. I had a nice time in the cave, but I tried to leave, but the bear picked me up and sat me down right by the ire. I decided that I was going to try to dig a hole out and try not to have the bear see me. When I started, I realized that I didn’t have anything to cover the hole. I asked the oldest looking man there how long he had been stuck in the cave. He said, “Eight years.” I then thought to myself, I need to get out of here quickly. Later, the bear let the cave. I said, “I’m leaving.” I started to run and then I started to climb the nearest

mountain. I struggled to climb to the top, but when I got up there, I saw a huge wall. It might have been 50 feet tall. I looked all around me and there was no getting out, but all of a sudden I saw that there was an opening on the other side of the forest. I ran as fast as I could, but then I ran into the bear.

FOOTHILLS SCHOOL OF ARTS AND SCIENCES Teaching-Writers Colleen Brennan, Natalie Disney, Christian Winn

I AM A LEAF Thatcher Foothills School of Arts and Sciences I am a leaf; My mother is the tree. She holds me and my brothers and sisters for weeks, months, but eventually lets go. I am a leaf; I am a light green; I am falling; mother let me go. I fall; I blow through the crisp wind like a paper airplane; I land. I am a leaf. I am on the cool grass; I sit, turning from green to orange. I hear kids nearby, playing running laughing; I get stepped on. I sit; I roll in the grass from the kind wind; I sit. I am a leaf lying here, drying out, becoming crunchy, becoming old. I am a leaf. Day by day I turn more and more into nothing. I am no longer a leaf.

THE THINGS WE CAN DO Luca Foothills School of Arts and Sciences Dear Katherine, I went to the circus the other night. The whole act was in a bubble under the sea. There were normal circus things, but some of the acts had weird twists to them. For example, the trapezist had a chicken playing the drums on her leg. Also, the horses were all painted green. Finally, there was a woman who was dancing with what looked like a giant hoop earring. You might think that this is all a dream, but it is not. I would never lie to you about something as important as this! I wish you could have seen it! Love, Luca Brune

HOW TO EAT UNAGI Raferty Foothills School of Arts and Sciences First, you must make sure you are not allergic to eel, rice, soy sauce, teriyaki sauce, or seaweed. Then – this is the most important part – go to a sushi restaurant. Sit down at a table or booth. Use your right and your let hand to pick up the menu. Search for the sashimi list on the menu. Find unagi. Once you ind unagi, wait for the waiter. Once he/she comes, point at unagi on the menu and say, “May I please have one order of unagi?” (This is typically two pieces.) Then hand the waiter your menu and wait. When your unagi arrives, pick one up with chopsticks or your ingers, dip in soy sauce, and enjoy.

FOR HONOR Sam F. Foothills School of Arts and Sciences I was running. I heard explosions all around me, men dead, people screaming for help. All I wanted to do was go home and lay down in my cozy bed. But I couldn’t. Sadness ran through me like the blood running through my veins. I was slow, exhausted, but I had to move; there were no other options. It was booming loud, then all of a sudden my eardrums popped. I could hear nothing. Then I stopped. I tried to move. I was stuck in sorrow. In front of me people were dying. I didn’t know what to do. Then I felt pain. Blood started to seep into my ragged pants. I was done for. I had nothing to do. I couldn’t run. I fell into a pile of mud and bodies. That’s when I knew it was over. But one thing I didn’t forget: I did it for honor.

LE PRINTEMPS DE LA VIE Kennedy Foothills School of Arts and Sciences July 25, 1923 Dear Tulip, Remember that time I took you for a walk down by the river? Well, I have come here again. Not to walk with you, but to paint. I paint the wind dancing on the yellow lower petals and the smoothly lowing river. A tree extends her arm into a calming pose. The light baby blues merge with the dark rich brown of the trunk and the leaves that are glistening green. I faintly brush a girl who has lost her dog. She is desolate and gloomy. She yearns for her dog that will soon come back. Her bubble gum pink dress drags across the shiny white and gray rocks. She is picking up lowers, holding the tips of her dress creating a silk basket. Black rules line the shoulder straps. She is sad. Bye, Tulip. I will you take you for a walk down by the river again. Someday we will paint together. Love, Kennedy

ROOM 243 Leah Foothills School of Arts and Sciences The paintings start swaying in unity. The chairs start teetering and the window shutters start swinging. I know it’s happening. The room starts spinning, stopping upside down, then turns back again. I live in room 243. And I’m the only one who knows. An eerie moss green light is released from the crimson cracks of the bricks. The outlines of the walls start to crack, moving slowly inward, crushing everything in their path. The room slowly gets smaller, compressing the oxygen into my brain, turning my vision foggy. I scatter towards the door, linging it open with the little strength that is still vaguely in my body. Then it starts. Racking my brain with any knowledge I still have let. I barely know her anymore. My 13-year-old little sister’s image bleeds from my mind and disappears. Revenge coils into my heart. I know I’m not alive, but not dead either. And it’s because of her.

TO BE A TREE Bridget Foothills School of Arts and Sciences To be a tree you Have to let go of Your leaves every Year the pain of watching Them fall one by one The yellow, the orange The brown, each leaf a Diferent personality, they Fall until youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re completely bare The winter comes You miss them, you Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t just feel cold, she Feels alone, she feels As if her leaves Cheated on her, to be A tree you keep on Growing stronger and Stronger until you Can inally Stand the whispering Winds that blow Upon you.

SKY Elliott Foothills School of Arts and Sciences What does one think as they exhale in deep blue colors? The taste of a planet, a star, or the multi-colored sky It feels sot, like a pillow, Eyes in a daze as the day goes by, Listening to the slight buzz the sky gives away, Fresh air blowing into my nose, Smooth, clean

MY FAMILY Indigo Foothills School of Arts and Sciences My father is like a tree, Strong against the wind My mother is like a lower in the wind My brother is gentle as a kitten I am the light against the dark

THINGS TO DO INSIDE A BLACK HOLE Theo Foothills School of Arts and Sciences Do something science canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t explain. Stare at the event horizon until it sucks you in. Be in awe of its gravity. Pass the point of no return. Feel yourself being ripped apart. Feel yourself become a part of that tiny dark ball in front of you. If you are afraid, you can use your hyper-drive to zoom out, and in the process, become plasma.

MY LIFE IS LIKE A BALANCE BEAM Grace B. Foothills School of Arts and Sciences I am trying to balance my career, my grades, my attitude, my injuries, my words, my actions, my entire life is a balance beam and I wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want it any diferent because I am unique and so is my life.

BLACK Zoe Foothills School of Arts and Sciences Black is the ocean at night, I hear the waves, A kind of roar, Spiders on a web, The sheet on my bed, Sot, pufy clouds before a storm. My youngest cousinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hair, Smooth and sot. The ribbons on my party dress. The silent, dark sky at night. Black. Shadows spreading across the ground on the stormy night.

HORSE Raiya Foothills School of Arts and Sciences You hear the sot footsteps of a horse The black hooves drop on the ground One ater the other The white color of its thick mane blows in the wind As it gallops across the green meadow The smell of the thick green grass it chews It feels the strong wind blow against its side while it runs through the meadow It rears up and comes down

A PLACE FOR MOURNING Riley Foothills School of Arts and Sciences She was there when all else failed She welcomed me into her twisted arms letting me cry on her shoulder Her golden green leaves sheltered me from the rain Her gnarled roots kept me strong She cradled me until I slept Perched high in her branches Sitting, watching As the moon slowly fell across the sky, She observed, silently Reserving judgement Content to allow others to do the talking While she listened, collecting the stories of generations Holding me close In the hole she carved in her heart Reserved only for the tears, laughter and sorrow Of those who needed her most She opened herself Content to let people nestle close, Share her warmth, Share her heart **** Her trunk was oozing A black, parasitic goo They said she was sick They said she was hurting They said it would be better when she was gone I wasn’t meant to see it But I crept away to watch her leave And when I cried, she wasn’t there to comfort me They didn’t know what it meant to have her leave The mother of many nights The sister of many moons They took her The glinting silver of an ax, Biting into her lesh

I watch her leaves shiver, I watch her leaves shake, Until inally I watched them fall Their simple paths back towards the earth They caught the light of the falling sun Coming to rest back with their Mother Her trunks, scarred and blackened as they were Where hacked to pieces Pulled into a trailer and taken away Taken away from her home The stars cried for her The moon darkened The creatures of the earth grieved for her She may have only been a tree, But she became a friend of the world A mother to all who needed a home The moon, the stars, the doe and her fawn, the owl and his mate She held a menagerie of creatures close to her heart Even me, she welcomed me into her collection And when she was gone, We became her children in mourning.

3,747 DAYS Kaiya Foothills School of Arts and Sciences 89,928 hours of practice 3,747 days of sacriice 11 years of devotion Her body sore and eyes tired She wanted to sleep but knew she couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Wanted to rest her head on her pillow but couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Legs shaking as she stood on her toes When she feels like she was failing She never gave up Always tried her hardest Even when her muscles were giving out She tried For so long she was scared Scared to put herself out there Scared to see what people thought of her Every night she would go home and practice Feel conident in how she danced For once she felt like she was dancing for herself The spotlight fell upon her face and sparkling dress Turning and turning and felt as if she had wings Turning into a swan Remembering when she read swan lake She began to feel like the swan She inally understood that feeling ater 89,928 hours 3,747 days And 11 years

THE LONGING SKY Avery G. Foothills School of Arts and Sciences Nowhere for the rain to be embraced The clouds wrapped around your inger Instead of the the jutting peaks Nothing to make you feel small again The weight pulled of your chest Into the sky Now I carry all the weight With my fragile ingers And collect the heavy rain While ignoring the thunder That echoes in my eardrums Alone Without the steady heartbeat of my mountain The protection My head the tallest peak In the sky

REQUIEM FOR A LOST SOUL Frannie Foothills School of Arts and Sciences The cold ocean licks the beach, Tasting the gelatinous jellyish. Stealing away the sand that clings desperately to her feet. Oh, the way it can erase. The way it can start everything over. And over. And over. The breeze wails, Begging for attention, Urging her to leave, To give in to the sticky wind, And let it carry her away like dust. It whips auburn hair in her face, Blinding her judgment. Pulling her like tafy away from the well-worn path. It shoves her into the crumbling stone, And drags her up when she falls. Sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a puppet, Attached to quivering strings of dirt. But then a crimson stream Blooms out of the earth, Drowning the buildings, Devouring the jellyish. Washing the town from memories, Thieving them from hundreds. Pilfering the life from a girlâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s heart, And scratching out her smile From future photographs. The sky screams in anguish, Devoured in mourning. The salty scent of waves rapidly being erased. Never again will it watch the curious waves 59

Dance with the jellyish. Never again will it move the girl, Swaying to the way she walks. Broken. Hopeless. Never again will the waves wash out the dirt, Pooling in her head. They ran away, Resisting. Never has she felt this Broken. Hopeless. Never again will the wind guide her, Back into the slumbering town, Leading her between steep alleys And through the colorful crumbling houses. Weaving through the dusty streets, And stumbling down the broken stone steps. Towards the jellyish. Never again will she laugh the way she used to. Never again will her heart be whole. Never again will she ind such a place, A place where she doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t feel lost. Never again will the sky smile through grey clouds, Tracing the girls wandering. All that is let are mottled stumps, And blood soaked sands.

I’M NOT SCARED Kaleb Foothills School of Arts and Sciences I remember the sound of my bones breaking, the cherry red blood slithering down my palm. The loud snap of my body as it collided with the ground. How my voice rippled through the calm air, my arm bent in four diferent directions. Slowly, Thatcher pulled himself of the edge of the trampoline, his ingers pulling on his bottom lip. Shock smeared his expression as he screamed out my name, then my mother’s. The air froze, the birds stopped singing, the constant buzz of cars silenced. I wrenched my arm up onto my chest, pulling my swollen ingers one by one with my let hand. Pain spiderwalked up my arm, spinning its webs through my veins as it climbed. Fear drowned my irises in a swampy green algae encasing my pupils. She stumbled out of the house, slamming the glass door behind her. Going pale, her eyes tracing my crumpled igure. “Oh god,” she mumbled grabbing at her throat. “No.” Suddenly, she turned toward the door, slamming her irst onto its relective surface, rage and fear climbing up her cheeks, shading them bright pink. “Ben!” she screamed at the door, his dark igure slumping to drop his bag to the loor. An expression of dismay pulling at his lips. “Whitney, I have to go! The concert starts soon!” he rasped, stalking towards the door. She turned, sunlight illuminating half her face. He pressed his face to the glass, wrapping his ingers around the door handle. Frantically she ran down the stairs towards me, eyes licking from Thatcher then to me, then back again, like pages turning. Ben ran from the house trailing her. Throwing the car keys to Thatcher and telling him to get it ready as he fell to his knees. Pain sliced through my skin, pulsing in my ingertips. His hands inched under my back, ingers curling around my thin waist as I cried out in pain. Tears dripping down my lushed cheeks. “S-stop, please…” I whimpered, my voice yearning and pleading even when my words screamed, laced in pain and fear. “I’m sorry,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the stairs to the house.

*** The car’s engine growled as we drove towards the hospital. I lay across the three bench seats, my bent arm placed atop my chest. I’m sorry, I know- no don’t think like that. Butterly, uh…. warm sheets, snakes, food… good things. Memories danced on the wind, the sour smell of burnt rubber and the buzz of traic illed the air as I was pulled out of the car. My body going limp as I was set into the irst available wheelchair. *** “And who is this little bundle of joy?” The nurse said, his face contorting into a fake smile. He walked over to my bedside asking his question once more, asking me a question, really? Or just being smart. “What’s your name, miss?” My train of thought cutting of as he spoke. “Kaleb,” The bittersweet spark of pain pulsing up my arm, at least I could still move my ingers! “Churchwell, you?” He let out a chuckle, his dark brown hair and lamb chops swaying as he shook his head. “She speaks! What a relief, I thought you might be mute or something!” “And you can actually smile, I thought you were depressed or something!” I snapped, watching his face go pink as a loud cackle erupted from his throat. “The doctor will be in soon to give you sleeping medicine... Then set your arm,” he said, the faint whisper of a laugh still dancing on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows, “Does-” “And no darling, it won’t hurt, don’t worry.” The he was gone. *** Mom shited, holding Thatcher’s head in her hands as she crossed her legs. “How are you?” She whispered, avoiding waking Ben, whose head perched on her shoulder or Thatcher who slept on her lap. “Tired… And the doctor still hasn’t come.” Another wave of pain, “It’s been three hours! I can’t watch any more Duck Dynasty. I think I’m dying!” “Same here, get some rest, I’ll wake you when he arrives.” “Hmmm,” was my only reply before I closed my eyes, 62

falling back onto the blindingly white pillows. Slowly falling into the rhythm of yet another daydream. *** Flashes of pink and orange sky lickered across my memories, the large linden tree casting shadows across the cracked pavement of the driveway. “Come on, race me,” a familiar voice whispered from deep in my mind. “You know I’m going to win.” Another voice snarled my voice and Thatcher’s. “Race me,” I demanded, propelling forward with a swish of my feet, the seat of my easy roller daring to break underneath me. “Cheater!” he yelled from behind me as my ingertips scraped the ground, blood waltzing across my hand. “Ow!!” I screeched, pulling my hand to my chest, then cradling it in the crook of my let arm. *** My eyelids lipped open at the sudden sound of footsteps, the doctor. He smiled, “Not fake,” I murmured under my breath. He walked over to my mother, beginning to tell her what was going to happen to me as my nurse came in. In his hand he clutched what seemed to be a bag of... water? Slowly he hung it on the metal rack and attached one end of the tube to my IV. “You won’t feel a thing,” he whispered, “sleep well.” “I’m not sleeping!” “Yes you are,” he laughed, “don’t be scared.” “I’m not!” I snapped. “Five…. Four… Three…” Everything started spinning, the walls became a smear of white and grey, the light suddenly burned my eyes, I looked towards my mother but she was just splatter of color amidst the whirlpool. “I’m scared,” I mumbled. Everything went black.

WEST CANYON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Natalie Disney

FAMILY INTERVIEW Alanna West Canyon Elementary School My grandma’s name is Maria. She came here from Mexico when my dad and my uncle were little, along with my other uncle and my aunt. I chose to do my grandma because she has a very interesting life. She came to Idaho for a better life and for more money. Now, she works hard in the ields with my grandpa, Juan. My dad and my grandpa have the same name. Me and my cousin have more of the same blood than me and my mom have together. Our dads are brothers and our moms are sisters. My grandma is 57 and turning 58 this year. She didn’t go to college because in Mexico, there weren’t as many options as there are now. Through her years, she has been to many amazing places. She is close to her mom and gets to see her when she visits Mexico. When she came to America, her life was changed. Sometimes it was hard for her to communicate to others when she moved. She is very used to it now and it doesn’t seem to bother her. Over the years, she’s picked up a lot of words in English from all of us. Me and my cousin know quite a lot of Spanish. For second and third grade I went to a bilingual school so that I could learn more. Having a family changed her life.

HOW TO BE A POTATO Jacquelin West Canyon Elementary School To be a potato you have to deal with the other potatoes. A potato hopes to get picked from the dirt with a little bit of green grass. Potatoes are scared to be picked out of the ground by an enormous black bird with razor-sharp teeth that can rip a potato open with one bite. A potato has to deal with the ginormous black and gray dust storm that can sweep the potatoes of the ground in one single push of gray and black dust storm. Potatoes have to deal with the potatoes. Most potatoes want to be picked, some donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t, some potatoes are scared to be eaten. Since potatoes are famous where we live, a lot of potatoes are being picked. I think that Idaho potatoes feel diferent because in Idaho potatoes are famous, so everyone eats them, and in other states they donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t really pay attention to potatoes like Idaho does.

I LOVE POTATOES Rylon West Canyon Elementary School To be a potato you have to love the silky-smooth dirt and the shiny colorful shields of ladybugs. That potato is among many, many crowded, dusty, talkative potatoes, with their unique shapes. To be a potato you have to deal with getting picked on by theses weird looking worms. The potato’s least favorite thing are the “worms” that pick on him, but he also has some interests: like the sot, fresh, lowy deep dark brown dirt or the company of the many small bugs shiny bugs. This potato hopes to be enjoyed by the neutral colored blobs above the lime green dewy grass. The potato wants the blobs to taste his bright beige insides, and its charcoal brown skin with some melted creamy thick butter and a pinch of pepper and salt. But lastly, the potato sees many possibilities, many friends, many blobs, but— Most importantly, the potato loves the rich smelling, moist, compacted, earthy smelling... DIRT.

RECIPE OF SELF Jayden West Canyon Elementary School CRUST • 20 cups nice • 5 ⅔ family • 10 TBS faith FILLING • 999,999,999,999 gallons of athleticism • 1 oz. shy • 2 oz. scared • 10,000 gallons impatience • 999,999,000 gallons humor TOPING • 1 pint of energy • 1 pinch of kitten

I AM FROM Yazlyn West Canyon Elementary School I am from a scary library full of magic books were every single book lies like a bird I am from a Wii game that has classic games And homework, mathematics where you can solve each problem one by one at one pace I am from the spooky seven-acre house where every tree talks and walks like a human when you don’t look at it I am from a magical open house where there is peace and kindness I am from a dandelion lowing in a very mad wind I am from a very old monster tree where no one get close to it, whose long-gone limbs I remember I’m from a family who gets all together and does crazy stuf From loving mom, dad and mean brother I’m from a family moving high And from loving animals I’m from “give me a dog,” And the monster is going to get you I’m from a loud family I’m from wiser and Mexico Tamales and Bañuelos From dad who thought he ran over a bird Dad, caught a ish Heart of a wonderful mom and dad that love everything they see

TO BE A POTATO Densie West Canyon Elementary School To be a potato you have to have the patience to wait 100 days to be pulled from Mother Earth ater being planted. You have to ight of predators with your dangerous green tops that are toxic and will keep you from harm. You must appreciate the insects and bugs that pollinate your skin. As a potato your dream is to become a French fry and be kept in the pocket of a McDonalds worker’s pocket for a later snack. To be a potato you must know that you will probably be separated from your potato patch family. You are usually terriied of knives, ovens, and blenders of any kind. You must be grateful to the farmer who gives you water every day and shades you with his big brown hat. You will become bruised and arrive with dark brown patches, and for this you must be tough. You wish for that big, navy blue ribbon with golden letters that you hope to one day win from the fair. You must learn that a mouse is a very bad sign, you must roll away immediately! You can’t decide if you would rather be in a bag of potato chips or become some potato pancakes in your last days before you mold. You must become one with your roots that attach you to the rich brown soil. You should usually have a ladydog (a ladybug that acts as a dog for potatoes). You’re used to being called brotato chip by your best friend. Also, you must be prepared for any disasters, like when your great friend (sob) became a mashed potato (sob) and was served with (sob) green beans and gravy. As a potato, you have always longed for the words, “You taste delicious.”

GETTING TO KNOW MY MOM Gracie West Canyon Elementary School My mom’s name is Tabitha Lewellan. She was born on March 14, 1983 and grew up in Antioch. She had her best friend Bambi, a Saint Bernard. My mom was one of those kids that loved, and I mean loved, school. In the interview, she was like a glow stick, she loved talking about her life in school. I’m the same way, I love talking about school. My mom can go on for hours talking about her ancestors and she knows them all the way back to Adam and Eve. My great grandma Oma is from Holland. My mom met my real dad in Spanish class. She was best friends with her grandpa and she was always there in the summers. Sadly, my mom’s grandpa died when she was 13 and she was very depressed until she was in high school and met my dad. My mom was a high school dropout because she had my big sister when she was 16. She got remarried to my step dad Jessie. My mom tried to go back to school but it was hard to take care of 4 kids, go to school, and have a job, so she decided to do an online class and become a phlebotomist and she has followed her dreams ever since. A lot of people inluenced my mom, and it was mostly her grandpa and my dad’s mom and dad. My mom moved to Idaho to get a better job and life and so us kids would have a better school. During this interview I learned stuf about my mom that I didn’t even know and now that I did this, I’m closer with my mom.

MY GRANDPA Annabelle West Canyon Elementary School We call him “Papa.” His full name is Raymond Haro. He is a wonderful man, and wise. He goes to church and he is very smart. He was born in New Hall, California in 1957. He grew up in farmland. “It was lots of fun,’’ he told me. His favorite place to go was the Six Flags park which he lived next to. He loves Mexican food, especially tacos, and he told me that the only reason he likes it is because grandma makes the best of the best. When he worked, he worked for himself by towing and driving trucks. What he liked most was the museum of a famous cowboy named William S. Hart. My papa met my grandma as a 6th grader and they became friends just by talking. Every holiday they decorate, especially Christmas, their favorite holiday ever. Papa’s life was going and going till it changed, when they had three kids. They had no cell phones, they didn’t even have computers, can you imagine? Grandma stayed home to help the children while he worked and worked to make money for food and diapers. “It was hard, but we had joy,” he said. What true words. It was a lot of responsibility to have a family, but it was a happy thing to see. It’s so fun to learn all these new things. I give a big thanks to my papa for telling me this amazing story and illing my head with the past.

RECIPE FOR SARIAH DARLEY GESSEL Sariah West Canyon Elementary School One serving; unable to be doubled, duplicated, or halved Crust: The deepest layer, hardest to ind and sweet and sour - 4 cups love for all the world, slightly cracked but whole - 2 tbsp. arguing spirit, slightly spicy, cook at 100 degrees for 10 minutes irst - 5 tsp strong faith, the thick form - 3 tbsp. family loyalty, slightly sot Filling: Tangy and sweet, you can’t see it under the toppings, but you can sense that it’s there - 5 cups good style/taste, a bit spicy - 3 cups love for animals, sot but irm enough to stay intact - 4 cups sensitivity, barely staying together - 4 tbsp. creativity, irm and always able to taste - 5 cups imagination, slightly sot - 2 cups smartness, slightly cracked - 1 tbsp. chasing spirit, some sweet and some particularly stale and disgusting Toppings: Sometimes people peel of the toppings due to the hardness or tanginess - 10 strands dark blonde hair, make sure it’s not too light - Torn up pages of the irst four Pegasus books, still readable - 2 strands gray cat hair (the cat probably licked the illing, that’s why)

MY DAD Noel West Canyon Elementary School My dad’s name is Alfredo Hernandez. He said, ¨I was born in Mexico,¨ and his family, his cousins and grandma and grandpa are in Mexico too. He is the only one who came to Idaho. They cannot come here because there are fences around Mexico, so if they pass the big fence, then I think the military or police will come and get them. When there is no one there, some jump over it and they get out of there and into the United States of America. My dad told me that he passed the fence and he let, so that’s why he could have a great life in North America. Mexico is really hot, and to get to the fence you have to pass through a desert or you will die, so you have to keep walking and walking to get there. My dad said that people took 15 days because they walk slow, but my dad took 2 days, so he walked fast. You need to bring food with you, so you do not get hungry. My dad’s parents said, ¨I do not want to pass the fence because it is too dangerous.” Dad said that he has lived in two houses here. These are the sports that my dad did: running, basketball and soccer. When he played soccer, his friend kicked him in the knee and it let a purple bump that hurts, so he quit playing soccer. When he was a teen, his dad made him work to get more money and he could buy anything. He worked hard so he could go to Florida, Mexico, Idaho and Georgia.

I AM FROM Aleah West Canyon Elementary School I am from Snoopy and the land of Yorkies and Chihuahuas. And the blue liquid that smells of cleaning products, Windex, and the sot smooth shaving cream for my brother’s face. I am from an old house that’s been lived in for a long time with bumpy, lumpy walls. The poky rose bush, which has drawn blood from my sot child hands. The huge pine tree that has old Christmas lights that you see when it’s smiling. I’m from balloons that cover the loor and pop with a touch of my dog’s paw, and goofy land where there’s no one without a smile on their face. The sister that grew up with me that I know as my favorite sibling, with her red poufy hair and gym clothes that are never not worn. My caring mom whose face is beautiful even though my dad jokes she’s old. I’m from the running clock that usually is late. When the music is on, someone has to be dancing to the music. The Sunday tacos that are the easiest to make. I’m from “Aleah, you’re so brave.” Also, the never-ending song that will always be singing on and on in my head. I’m also from family theater night almost every Friday in Caldwell, and my home sweet home. From the hallucination of Pho and cereal. From me breaking my nose when I was only 4. All the way to my dad’s pocket watch, to the inside of my smelly brother’s room. The pocket watch doesn’t tick anymore, but it still does in my heart.

FAMILY INTERVIEW Lexus West Canyon Elementary School I had so many questions for my great grandma May, but me and my siblings call her GG. “I had 3 brothers and I was the only girl,” she told me. She lived on a small farm that produced tobacco and corn and had quite a few chickens. There was a stream next to her farm and that’s where they would get water and take it in to boil. She had a chore to hand wash clothes every week. She also told me that they liked swimming in the lake by their crops. Her irst job was babysitting, and she had a job at a cafe, too. A friend she had made there taught her how to cook her own food, and now she loves cooking. She was born in Missouri, and her grandparents were, too. “I had known who my great grandparents were, but they died before I could meet them in person,” GG said. She and her family were poor and couldn’t pay for Christmas gits or birthday presents. When she compared my life and my childhood to hers, she told me nothing was the same about them. “Technology is a waste of everyone’s time,” she said. She told me that her life changed when she irst moved out of her old house and into town where there were more people, bigger schools, and a nice little area. She loved her family so much and said that it was a shame that her parents and brothers had died before she had. My great grandma is sweet and kind, and I was happy that she had squeezed in some time for me.

I AM FROM Austin West Canyon Elementary School I am from emerald From geode and crystal I am from the pink house with a great smell I am from the rose I’m from get-togethers and Christmas From 8 siblings and 2 dads and 1 mom The rosy red tulips I am from a working dad and working mom and from a working brother and sister I am from awesome Austin and third eye And don’t play with ire I’m from Kuna and a white house Pizza and chorizo and eggs From my mom’s grandma who died of cancer Great, nice, and young Mud volleyball On my wall

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN Roxete West Canyon Elementary School I am so excited about my trip to Mexico, which is located in the continent of North America. My family and I headed for Mexico City. I could hardly wait to some of the places I researched. We unpacked our suitcases, which included shorts short sleeve shirts, because I learned that Mexico had a climate that was hot and humid. Finally, it was time to hit the street and see the sights. We hopped aboard a tour bus and our guide showed us Xcaret Park and told us about Monte Alban. The ride was wonderful. From my window I could see plains and hills. The tour guide asked me if I knew anything about Mexico. I told him the country was bordered by the Gulf of Mexico, Caribbean Sea, Paciic Ocean, U.S.A and South America. I also mentioned I knew that Mexico is the 14th largest country, Spain brought bullighting to Mexico, and the largest pyramid in the world is in Mexico. I think he was very impressed with my knowledge! As we drove along we went through an industrial area. I saw factories that made cars and electronics. We stopped for lunch at a local restaurant. I ordered tacos de asada, empanadas and chilaquiles. Right outside our window we could see a celebration going on. It was Cinco de Mayo. I’m so thrilled I had the opportunity to visit Mexico. As I said goodbye to Mexico, or “Adios” in Spanish, and headed home I kept thinking about how proud I am about being part Mexican. I will always be proud of who I am.

POTATO Korbin West Canyon Elementary School To be a potato you must be durable and healthy, Waiting for the day. What day? The one day of 100, To be taken away while I wait Sounds of life are above me. I feel water on my body, Refreshing and delicious sun, Yet Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m still in the ground, Waiting for the 100th day. I count the days in my prison cell Then I hear a sound, A thunderous sound and a light A bright light Fills my cell with light And a hand comes down And rips me out of my prison cell. I wish I knew what was happening. The one that took me was cutting me and eating me and thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the story of a potato.

I AM FROM Eva M. West Canyon Elementary School I am from Bright blue paint I am from my home, Idaho It feels very cozy to the heart I am from the green color in the grass The willow tree that I always loved I’m from hunting in the dead of night And close family From my loving mother and my hard-working father I’m from a clean house that belongs to a kind family And from creative working I’m from being told, “Don’t run of!” and that I’m royal, And to never give up even if it’s hard I’m from hiking all day, I’m from the baby place and Bosnia, Sweet baklava and fresh cut deer, From the Bosnian war, Tall, strong and smart, The ruby-eyed owl in my heart.

MY GRANDMA Meleny West Canyon Elementary School My grandma had to go through a lot! Her name is Yolanda and she was born in Mexico, Jalisco. In Mexico there were people struggling. My grandma never got a pet because her mom didn’t like pets at all. My grandma loved to play barefoot out on the streets. She would get ready early and would help people that were older than her. When my grandma came here, her son took her to Disneyland and she thought that place was beautiful. Her life changed when she came here. In Mexico she wanted to be a teacher, but then she came here and opened up her store. Her eyes opened up so wide and they sparkled. My grandma said her life was perfect until she turned 12 years old. That’s when she would hear all the screaming and they divorced. When I asked, her eyes got teary. Her mom came irst, with her sister, and then when her mom got settled in, she brought her and her brothers through the mountains. My grandma’s old family traditions were the Day of the Dead and Christmas and the Pasada. The way she told me about her life, I knew her pain.

SPAIN Tigre West Canyon Elementary School Me and my family packed up and headed to Madrid, the heart of Spain! I had researched so many interesting places in Spain, such as the Casa Mila, a house arts venue, and Park Guell, which has beautiful sculptural buildings. Now I can see them in person! We were also able to go to a bull ighting event with a black red-eyed bull, but the event was fun! From my window I saw the hills and beautiful mountains. Our tour guide asked me what seas and countries border Spain and I said Portugal, the Mediterranean Sea, France, the Balearic sea, and Andorra. I also mentioned that I knew that Spain’s Spanish name was Espana, and also that Spain produces a lot renewable energy. He was very impressed with my knowledge. I saw factories where they produced lead and uranium there was a lot of smoke. We went to a fancy restaurant. I ordered the Paellas and Tapas. Outside we saw the holiday Andalucia! We went to the farmers market and got some cotton and lettuce. I loved meeting Spain, it was super fun! When I said goodbye to Spain in Spanish, I automatically missed Spain and all of its fun sports and traditions, and oh my god, the food was like heaven. When I got home it was like America was so plain, it wasn’t like Spain, where there was excitement every day and dancing. But I’m very proud to be born in America and that my heritage is from Spain.

I AM FROM Malaya West Canyon Elementary School I am from my big, sot, cozy bed, tired as a sloth. From The Fast and the Furious series and my sot blanket from when I was four years old. I am from a one-story, blue, green, grey, warm home. I am from the hummingbird zooming outside of my house. The big green pine tree in my yard, whose long roots I can tell have seen more moons than I have. I´m from cooking with my ginormous and humorous family, from loving and funny dad and a funny aunt. I am from family get-togethers, as big as a dinosaur and always being late (we run on Rodriguez time), and from my tía’s famous pineapple upside down cake, with juicy pineapples and cherries on top (so delicious). I’m from when I was little, and my older sister would tell me, “The Boogie Man is going to get you,” and my mom yelling at my sister to not pull my hair, from my favorite song when I was little, “Poker Face.” I´m from big Christmas parties, with hundreds of tamales. I´m from St. Luke’s hospital in Boise, Idaho and from ancestors from Mexico. I´m from Dutch Brothers and Los Betos, always so big & fresh. From my cousin eating a big spoonful of wasabi at a restaurant. I’m from taking family pictures three times a year, the photos hanging on Papa’s and Mimy’s wall.

WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A POTATO Isaac West Canyon Elementary School To be a potato you have to wait one hundred long, dark, and wet days under the dirt. Creepy insects and bugs are with a potato. Potatoes have to deal with being eaten all the time, because they get made into delicious fries or chips. Potatoes get hurt really easily when you peel them and eat them. A potato cares about being all around the world and being a famous potato instead of being a couch potato. Being an eight-pound vegetable would make a potato super proud and famous. A potato can be very dangerous because they can be poisonous or toxic when theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re green. 1 million people died of starvation without potatoes. Potatoes have even been to space. It was the irst vegetable to go to space which is crazy because itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a potato.

SEVEN OAKS ELEMENTARY SCHOOL Teaching-Writers Cassie Angley, Katie Fuller, Mary Lowry

THE FLIGHT OF MERHAWK an excerpt Roman Seven Oaks Elementary School When Barry Braveheart attends his fourth year of wizard school, he inds danger waiting for him. Can Barry and his friends spare innocent lives from a threat to the whole wizard world? Will the danger cease? *

Barry and Evangilee were playing. You could hear the swoosh of the water from the Fubach Field, the birds chirping and the sounds of fear from the Forbidden Forest. Breem was deep in his studies when he smelled, strangely enough, a very strong fragrance of books. Barry was racing toward the bronze and gold goal hoops. He had one pale hand in the freezing water for control and the sequoia ball in the other hand. The sequoia ball felt as if you were scraping a piece of sand paper; except for the grip, the indigo hand hold was as sot as a velvet plush blanket. The loating stands were higher and more alert than ever. Something strange was going on in the water and nobody liked it. Barry and Evangilee had to very pleadingly convince Breem to come with them to the Fubach Field so they could be protected because he was the best person at magic in the school. Barry had his Tubach robes on, which were exceptionally colder than normal robes even though he didn’t have to wear them. Evangilee was playing pine-stretch in front of the goal hoops. All of a sudden, the ancient eaglebeak Merhawk emerged, lying from the water. Breem whipped out his wand. Evangilee let out a ghastly, blood-curdling screech and Barry opened his chapped crimson lips and exclaimed, hoarsely, “Macaroni noodles, it’s the Eaglesbeak Merhawk!” said Barry. “The sword of Bearfang is in danger this year,” said Evangilee. “No way, I have to take a picture of this,” Breem said. “Seriously, I’ve never seen you anywhere without your camera,” said Barry. “You’re lucky I’m actually smart and don’t goof around in class,” said Breem. “And why is that?”

Barry and Breem bickered for awhile and Evangilee got tired and decided to go to her dormitory to catch up on some homework. Professor Twinkledwarf summoned all of the students to the great room. He said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;As you all probably have seen, the Eaglebeak Merhawk has taken light to guard the sword of Bearfang from evil. You all are going to be escorted by a teacher to every class and return to your dormitories by 6:00.â&#x20AC;?

NAMELESS an excerpt Lindsay Seven Oaks Elementary School You. You are reading this book. You are asking the questions. Lindsay. Lindsay is 11. Lindsay is in the book. Lindsay is answering your questions. How? Where? Why? Read the full book of NAMELESS. Take the adventure. Enter the impossible. *

In her warm cozy house of four, Lindsay storms into her comforting retreat place, her room. With bland gray walls and gold details, this is her favorite place to be, to relax, and to be herself. The gentle, short-haired girl parts her eloquent draping ribbons as she glides into her room, with steps as gentle as the autumn wind. Strong lavender fumes ill her nose. The sweet, soothing taste of chocolate overwhelms her palette. The deep purr of her gentle kitten ills the room. She sits at her desk, her creative writing juices lowing. Her sunny yellow pencil awaits her small hand. It’s cold, not to be touched for over a week. While the family was in Orlando it took its toll. But now, she’s back. With her favorite things right in front of her, a pencil and a blank sheet of paper. The words, in a rushing whirlpool in her head, are almost tangible. She begins. Yet little does she know what’s about to happen. Neither do you. “Hello. It’s 8:43 p.m. as I write in my room...” CLUNK “What, was is it?” “What does it mean?” “Hi, my name is Lindsay. Fun fact, my stories come to life.” (Zip, thunder, crash) A portal, majestic and captivating, lickers into the corner of her room. Shining as bright as headlights on a semi-truck in the witching hour, it lures you closer, hypnotizing you with its light. “Oh my gosh, what is that, in the corner of your room?” “The typical (for me) rainbow light sprouts in the corner of my room.” “What does it do?” “The magical light takes me into the story that I was just writing.” “Wait, you never told me what you were writing about?”

“This time, I was writing about a land of purple and blue.” “Are there humans, animals, buildings, nature?” “In this world, the structures are tall, the tree are orange, it’s always fall.” “Awesome! So no people?” “In this world, life is strange. The creatures are none the same.” “Oh...that’s cool.” You, reading this right now, begin to trail of. You hear the rustling of leaves and the laughing of creatures who seem to not be human. “In this world, your imagination runs wild. Thoughts are vivid, dreamlike...” “Oh my gosh! Wait! I just...did you...where...how! What is happening?” “In this world, the impossible becomes possible...” “I...uh...how are you doing this?” “In this world, the name is unknown. What do you want it to be?” “When will this end? Wait no, don’t!” “In this world, I have to leave. Lit of the ground and...” “That was the best book ever! Hey Lindsay, keep up the good work. You will be rewarded.”

THE FAKER an excerpt Samantha G. Seven Oaks Elementary School Jackson and Colby have been living next door for years. However, when Colby suspects Jackson of taking his football, the boys depart. But when seeing some never-seen things before, can the boys get past their disagreements and solve the questions about our president? *

She inally agreed to tell us her name. “Chelsea Hu-,” she said wearily before being cut of by a blazing light. It completely washed out our faces and blinded us like the time at my family photo shoot two years ago. I was taller than Chelsea and the small boy, which for some reason gave me conidence, but I still feared the bright light against plain darkness. I looked at the small boy who was shaking. His messy red hair was frozen, his hands at his sides but his ingers spread apart. He was staring blankly, which kind of freaked me out. Chelsea didn’t seem scared, almost as if she had seen this many times before, but her face grew fear as the boy fell to the ground. He looked like he was being hypnotized, but his eyes didn’t swirl, they stood blank. His pupils grew huge. “Do you know what that was?” I asked. “I’ve seen the door open multiple times a week,” Chelsea replied. “Really?! What about Colby falling?” “Never! That made no sense! You?” “Do you think he had a seizure?” “Maybe, but to me it looked like he had a reaction to the light!” “I’m ine! What do you think happened?” Colby said. “What did you eat today? It could be a reaction!” “I don’t know, Colby?” “LISTEN TO ME,” Colby yelled. “Colby you fell to the ground and stood blank!” “It was really scary!” “I’m not in some weird romantic soap opera mystery. I was standing here then you two stared at me creepily!” “You really don’t know what happened?” “YES!” “It’s happening again!!”

“Let’s get out of here!!” “Colby?” “Stop walking!” Before Colby could reach the door, it closed. “Thank goodness it’s closed!” I stood there blank with my mouth wide open almost choking on how much air I inhaled. It tasted like air freshener. I heard whispering bouncing of the walls but neither Colby nor Chelsea seemed to hear it. However, I was freaked out that I could have been hallucinating. Colby’s blue sweater ruled with lint. I took a deep breath trying to get myself together as I grabbed my own hands, sweaty and sticky. I started asking questions.

FIVE DAYS TO SAVE THE WORLD an excerpt Avalee Seven Oaks Elementary School Alena is a ten-year-old girl in ith grade and she can’t wait for Christmas! Unfortunately, she needs to take care of something else. Even she doesn’t know exactly what it is. She only has ive days to save her family and friends, and the rest of the world! Will she solve the problem in time, or will the world end right before Christmas?! *

One summer morning at 7:03 am, Alena slowly sat up, looking like an electriied mad scientist. She felt something in her gut, the type of feeling you have when you know something’s wrong. She knew it was ive days from Christmas, but there was something bothering her, nagging at her thoughts. She got up, got dressed, ran to the mudroom, put on her new snow shoes and threw open the back door. She nearly screamed at what she saw. Blue. White. She was loating! She slammed the door shut and locked it. She ran down the hall, taking three sharp turns weaving in and out of columns and chairs, inally making it to her parents’ bedroom. She took a running jump, shaking her parents awake furiously. “Our house is loating! We’re lying!” Alena yelled. But of course, her mom and dad would never believe ten-yearold Alena’s crazy stories. Alena was getting frustrated. She told her parents to come and open the back door. They slowly got out of bed, tired of Alena’s imagination. They met Alena in the kitchen and made their way to the back door. Alena gripped the handle with her small, sweaty hand, and slowly opened it. “Sweetie, I know you have a big imagination, but this is really starting to go too far,” her mother said, patting Alena’s shoulder. “But--” “Go back to bed, it’s only 7:10,” her father cut her of. Alena’s parents were disappointed in her as they shuled along, still rubbing their eyes. She waited until the door closed, then took the handle yet again. She knew her parents would never see it. She threw the door wide open, careful not to fall. She saw plain sky and clouds, slowly looked down, and noticed that her house seemed to be in a funnel, or a whirlpool of sky and clouds.

“I can do this,” she said to herself. She did something that no other ith-grader would even dare do. She jumped. “Ahhh!” She screamed as high-pitched as a metal fork scratching against a dinner plate. She got sucked in, like a boat in a whirlpool. Her stomach felt as though she was going straight down on a roller coaster. “Ugh,” she grunted, inally landing in a strangely abstract world. Trees, bushes, and rivers were bent all over. “Where am I?” she wordlessly asked.

THE LIGHTNING STRIKES an excerpt Grant Seven Oaks Elementary School Billy is a ten-year-old boy who has made an amusement park shut down ater his irst visit. What did Billy do? Was it actually his fault? Join Billy and his family on their crazy ride. *

Billy could see the roller coaster from his car window. When he got out of the car it smelled of fresh air, but in the park he could smell cotton candy, popcorn, fries, churros and hot dogs. The edible, mouth-watering food looked delightful. He could hear the music and riders screaming. “I’ve been waiting for this forever,” Billy said. “I know Billy, this is going to be the best day ever,” said Billy’s dad. “This is the best birthday git ever. My friends are going to be jealous.” “Why are we even here? This place is for little kids,” said Billy’s sister. “Look, it’s Lightning!” Billy automatically got in line for Lightning. The line was so long it went out the to the ice cream stand. The man gave Billy a free ice cream because it was his birthday. The ice cream tasted like it was just made and it melted in Billy’s mouth on that very hot, sunny day. When Billy sat in the roller coaster car, it already felt like it was going fast. “Yeah, kid. It’s so fast you don’t need a seatbelt,” said the ride worker. “Awesome!” “Yeah, just pick a car, relax and enjoy the ride,” the worker said. “You know potato, patato, tomato, tamato.” On the coaster, he felt cold air brushing against his face. Billy loved the ride and how it was so fast. He was about to go on his third loop when he realized he was upside down. Billy’s car got detached from the other cars and it stopped moving. He landed on the track feeling like he got hit in the ribs with a Diamond baseball bat. All Billy could see was the coaster racing towards him. Suddenly the coaster started going in reverse. Billy started to drag his body to the side of the tracks. His heart raced faster than the speed of light. . .

UP IN THE FLUFF an excerpt Delaney M. Seven Oaks Elementary School The Fluf is a big lufy cloud. The Fluf isn’t just a normal cloud. It has its own world. In the Fluf live Flufs, which are pink, lufy, and have gold sot horns. The rulers of the luf are called Flufapufs. Flufapufs are the luiest type of luf. They wear a big rainbow crown, their luf is gold, and they are very intelligent. There is also one luf that is abnormal: her name is Starlight. But we’ll get to that later. Up in the Fluf nothing is lat, scaly, or rough. Everything is FLUFF. Every day for breakfast, lunch and dinner, the lufs eat luin candy (cotton candy). Fluin candy always makes the Flufs happy. The Flufs have to also spike up their horns, luf up their luf, and go to Flufy Town. Flufy Town is full of lufy towers. Flufy towers are towers of hobbies. Every Fluf has a hobby. They could like soccer, baking, art, poetry and many more. To enter Flufy Town to get to Flufy Towers, you must go through the Flufy Pufy Portal. Now it is time to talk about Starlight. Like I said, she is abnormal. Starlight loves art and baking. Starlight would love to start to go to Flufy Town and Flufy Towers. But she is stuck deciding, “Would I like to bake luin candy, or even try a new type of happiness to eat? Or would I like to go paint like da Vinci and become an extraordinary painter?” Starlight thought all day and she didn’t even notice. So she decided to go out for dinner to her favorite place, Taco Fluf (Taco Bell). When she was going to dinner she walked past the Flufy Pufy Portal. Then she started to think art or baking, baking or art. Starlight tried to stop thinking about it but it was impossible. She just kept walking to dinner and hoped someone would talk to her. No one would talk to her, because she was so diferent. Starlight had a lat smooth pink horn, and she has turquoise luf with a yellow stripe right in the middle of her body. Starlight is lonely, she has no friends. She doesn’t feel lonely though; she has an imaginary friend named Bob the Butter Stick. He is the sweetest butter stick. He is as sweet as candy from Willy Wonka. Bob’s color is rainbow and he has a big pink lufy afro. Bob is Starlight’s only friend. They are best friends and they don’t need anyone else. 95

CHAPTER ONE: THE DARK CASTLE OF GREYMANE an excerpt Gabe Y. Seven Oaks Elementary School In a cemetery near Greymane sits a home for fallen knights. A knight named Dave woke up in a coin and heard the sound of a great bell ringing. He bashed open the coin door and lots of dirt and worms fell into the coin. He then clawed his way out of the dirt and got on the soil. Staggering to his feet, he saw the castle and started to walk toward it. As he walked through the forest, he heard growls and the sound of something moving all around him. When he got to the castle gates, he saw swords littered across the loor and he smelt something foul. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Hello, is anyone there?â&#x20AC;? he called out in fear. He heard something moving on the other side of the wall. He looked at one of the swords and he got an idea. Then he grabbed two swords and stabbed the wall and started to climb the wall. When he got to the top of the wall, he saw the creature that was causing the foul smell and it was a monstrosity he wished he had not seen.

THE MOUSE TREE an excerpt Lindy Seven Oaks Elementary School There were chirps and scurrying noises. It was that time where you could only hear your breath and the sounds that the woods made. There was a little scurry noise, some logs falling, and a chuckle. Sophie and I looked over, there was a log pile and an axe about 100 yards away from us. We ran over and moved one of the logs. Under it was a big mouse-like creature. This time it had mouse ears, a mouse tail, and mouse feet. He said in a deep voice, “My name is Ralph. And don’t worry about that stupid Jewly.” Sophie asked in a kind of worried voice, “What exactly are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” He chuckled again. “I am a Regtial,” he said proudly. Suddenly he made a very wide grin and a very weird squeak noise. The grass started to rustle. Something popped out and pulled a burlap bag over our heads. As he pulled it over our heads the bag started to expand. It was now completely over our heads. With an Uf he lited the bag and ran away. I guess that the thing carrying us was like some kind of assistant or something. We were moving quickly now. But it didn’t feel like we were running. Maybe gliding or lying but not running. Sophie found a hole in the bag and looked through, then I did. When I looked through the hole we were still on the ground and still running. Sophie and I were starting to hyperventilate. I guess Ralph or the assistant did not like it because one of them elbowed Sophie and me in the ribs. Eventually we made it to Ralph’s house. A cage lay on the loor with two other people in it. The assistant threw us in the cage and locked the door. The assistant and Ralph let. Now it was just us and the two other people in the cage. They were two boys, one about our age and one a little younger. Hello,” Sophie whispered to one of the boys. “Shhhhhhh!” the older boy scolded. Both boys were glaring at us now. There was a beep noise. One of the boys said, “Hey, we are able to talk now. The camera has been turned of.” I asked in shock, “What camera?” “The camera over there,” he said calmly. As he said it, he pointed to a camera in the corner of the room facing the cage. 97

ZURK an excerpt Sebastian Seven Oaks Elementary School In a science lab out in the middle of the Rambahee Desert, where civilization was miles away in all directions, there was an old scientist working on a new project that he had been planning for many years. He was working on a creature that could do things humans couldn’t do themselves. And that creature would be able to lit 5x heavier things than a human could lit, it could work 3x faster than a human, and create/ build but also destroy/demolish things 7x faster. While he was working on the creature and modifying things it could do he accidentally bumped one of his mixtures. It fell and shattered on the ground right next to the carcass of the creature. It started to shake and mutate. Its not-so-sharp ingernails mutated into razor sharp claws, and its teeth started to get longer and sharper. It also started growing a tail that had a sharp barbed end and scales that were as strong as diamonds. In fear and amazement the old scientist started to run out of his lab, but his shaggy white hair got caught in his face and he couldn’t see. While he was running, his lab coat got caught on one of his tables and wouldn’t budge. So he had to quickly yank of his coat and keep running. When he got outside into the sunlight, he was blinded by how bright it was and fell to the ground. He turned to look at his lab which was about 12 feet away when !BOOM! The lab exploded sending the ragged old man lying backwards through the air and into one of the sand dunes. When he got himself out of the sand, he looked in the direction of where his lab used to be, but now it was just a graveyard of charred wood and burnt scraps of things he used to use. He searched the landscape for the monster but all he could see were giant footprints heading towards Hillsville... TO BE CONTINUED

AGE OF APPRENTICES an excerpt Trace Seven Oaks Elementary School It was winter. He was on the prowl. Carefully making not even the slightest sound, he moved forward, his unsuspecting prey grazing quietly. His eyes intensely focused on the deer before him. Suddenly, he pounced! The deer was dead within seconds. His master, Sam, moved forward to inspect his handiwork. “Good boy,” said Sam, as Tyson stepped toward his master proudly. “This is going to give us enough meat for us and our dealer.” Sam was a great hunter, the best in the village, but even he was outmatched by his white tiger, Tyson. They returned to the horse Sam had borrowed. Usually Sam preferred to walk, but this was too far in the mountains for that. Ty could walk, though. “He was built for this condition. Unlike me,” Sam thought glumly. He swung up onto his horse and whistled. Ty snuck of. It was a game they played. Ty would sneak ahead on the trail and Sam would watch for him in order to stay alert. He started his horse at a trot. He had given Ty time to run ahead to ind a hiding place. Ty he knew would be safe. It was himself he needed to watch out for. Suddenly he heard movement, then he saw it. It was a bear. He saw more movement and saw Ty. They were circling each other. Then as Sam thought the bear was ready to attack, the roar of the warriors’ horns blasted through the trees. Then three of the village’s warriors charged the bear. Their huge battle horses were just as tall as the bear, if not taller. They attacked, swinging their big axes and swords at the bear. But the bear moved out of their reach and with one mighty sweep of its paw, knocked the warriors of their horses. The horses, being scared, ran into the forest. Sam felt his heart stop as the bear raised its paw for the last blow, but then it stopped as two red rage-illed eyes appeared in the darkness of the forest.

DEFEAT THE LEADER an excerpt Ava Seven Oaks Elementary School That night I had a dream. Charlie had a leader that commanded him to ind me and kill me. He was angry at Charlie for letting me go. Charlie inally agreed. That’s when I woke up. Downstairs was my sister Lily and brother Isaac. They were just eating breakfast and watching the news. I went downstairs and watched with them. Then breaking news went on. Someone was trying to ight people. It was Charlie. He was in my neighborhood. I ran outside and there he was. My brother chased ater me. Charlie saw my brother and thought he was going to attack him. Charlie grabbed a sword, ready to defend himself. My brother tripped and fell right in front of Charlie. Charlie raised the sword, about to hit my brother, when I yelled at him. I yelled to him, “I am the one you want Charlie. I am the one your leader wants to kill. Just don’t hurt my brother Charlie… Please, Charlie.” Charlie dropped his sword. Behind Charlie a guy hit Charlie with a sword. There Charlie fell right in front of me. Covering my mouth I turned around to the person. I said, “Are you stupid? That was the kid that went missing. Do you see those blue eyes? The kid had those blue eyes.” He replied, “That kid is dead. He died ive years ago.” I screamed, “He is alive! He is still here. Now he is dead. He saved me.” “No he did not. He just was going to kill your brother and then kill you, too, probably.” Suddenly a whole crowd of people circled Charlie, all gasping in surprise. I dug through the crowed and looked at him. He…he…he was a normal boy. Everything diferent. No monster, just the regular little boy that went missing. The only two things that were the same were the blue eyes and the fact that he was dead. Still dead. His parents ran out of their house. They ran and saw Charlie. They cried with joy. “Charlie,” they said. ”Charlie, is it you? Charlie! You’re back now. Ater a long time you came back.” I came over to their family and told them the sad breaking news that their son was dead. They cried and shouted at the person who killed him. 100

While that happened I looked at Charlie. A note fell from his hand. It read: Dear Ivy, If u get this note, it is probably because I died. I was never going to kill you. But you have powers. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know what kind but they have to be pretty strong to defeat my leader. Please defeat them. Thank you if you do. Your old friend, Charlie I will do it. I will ind out my powers and defeat his leader.

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PLUTONIAN CHRONICLES: INVASION OF EARTH an excerpt Cole Seven Oaks Elementary School The spaceship plummeted towards Martian nonplanetary base Alpha or MNPBA. Hundreds of ships lew around and blew up, causing tiny bits of light to lash as debris hit the cruiser, making small dents. Out of nowhere with only a bit of sound as warning, a massive Martian Mothership appeared in front of the ship. “We’re not going to make it,” yelled Mistar. “Sure we are, with some luck and some piloting skills,” said Atlanta, with an unusual mood for such an occasion. Suddenly, but as if in slow motion, the Mothership exploded, leaving hundreds of bits of debris. “That’s the Venusians,” Craterus let out with a sigh of relief. “They made it to the party.” As if on cue, hundreds of ships jumped out of space, guns a-iring. Craterus steered through the debris of the ship, weaving and dodging to avoid a loating refrigerator. “We need to get the controls to turn of that force ield,” said Mistar. “That will let my father through,” said Atlanta in response. “Time to turn on stealth,” Craterus said unfocusedly, all of his attention on lying. Suddenly the ship turned from blue and neon to merely a slight disturbance in the air, which could be mistaken for air from a vent. “I don’t get why we can see the inside, but people can’t see the outside,” Mistar stated. “Yeah, I don’t… Whoah, looks like we’re having an early landing.” A bump echoed through the ship, alarms blaring. Craterus began pressing buttons frantically. “Ready for teleportation,” yelled Atlanta. “Check.” “Check.” Suddenly the trio wasn’t in an invisible ship, they were standing on a platform on the Martian non-planetary base Alpha.

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ZOOBACK LAND an excerpt Molly Seven Oaks Elementary School Before Hi, I am Miranda and I’m a mermaid. I don’t live in the sea or ocean. I live in a planet called ZooBack. I have long purple hair like my mother, blue eyes like my dad, and a short blue tail like my older sister. I live underwater and breathe water too. I’m at the edge of the water door and looking at the sign that says, “Do not cross! Danger!” I have always wanted to see what’s behind the water door, but I’m too afraid to try. My mother is keeping an eye on the human maid because we are missing some stuf, my dad is at the family company, and my sister is at her friend’s house. I can cross the water wall with nobody noticing me. As I take one of my hands, it feels ine, I don’t see why people don’t want us to cross it. “Should I cross the water wall?” I ask myself. I stick both of my hands in now. I decide that I am going to cross it. I push though it and I hear, “Go back! Don’t cross!” but it’s too late. I fall and I can’t breathe. I should of listened. I hear some people yelling. I close my eyes and think, “This is the end for me, this is how I am…” I feel someone’s hand on my tail and I hear quickly, “I told you so.” I’m back at ZooBack and I see my mother running to me. I now know why people don’t want us to cross the water door.

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THE WORLD BETWEEN an excerpt Taylor Seven Oaks Elementary School

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I’m having a regular amazing day, waking up and saying good morning to my lovely daughter Melisa. There is nothing that could make this day more magniicent. Well, that’s what I thought. Right then a door appeared. It opened and a bright light hit my eyes. But everything around me was dark. And around the door was pitch black. The door just looked like a normal-sized, friendly door. So it didn’t take me long to jump through the door. But I had to make sure I was doing the right thing. I said out loud, “One, there is no one with me. Two, I can’t see anything beyond the door that looks harmful. Plus, it does not look threatening to me or my family.” So of course I jumped right through. It was a world that had the sweetest animals, ripest fruits, the greenest plants, the best fragrances, open ields, no noise, no people, it was all to myself. I wished to never leave. Although I had all this beauty to myself I wanted my sweet Melisa to be with me. So while having the time of my life enduring this amazing world I was kind of trying to ind a way back to Melisa. But it was so hard to focus on inding a way back. All I wanted to do was to ind out more about this new discovered land. So I needed to have a brief moment of thought, “What if I brought Melisa here with me to this wonderful world. Melisa is a bright, fun, exploring, kind, helpful, and a beautiful girl. I know that she would love it.” Ater that moment I knew I needed to work harder to ind a way back to Melisa, so that is just what I did. But there was no way out. I looked for hours to ind a way. Finally I fell through a long, deep, black hole back to the real world. “Here’s my chance to grab Melisa and go back to a world that is great for her and me.” That’s all I could think. So I took Melisa and thought of not having a better day, just like before. But nothing happened. When I looked over at Melisa she was gone. I had to hope she went to the same place I went to. I sat there with my hand on my leg and my other on my mouth tapping rapidly. My thoughts started to turn on me. What if Melisa wasn’t okay? What if she got hurt? My face started to swell with tears. My Melisa wasn’t with me when I really needed her. I need my daughter by my side with me to confer me with love. She is the reason I came back. I love you, Melisa.

SISTER Paia Seven Oaks Elementary School My sister is jelly bean yellow My sister is as sweet As freshly made lufy Cotton candy that makes My taste buds leap. She is like a unicorn Galloping to freedom My sister is a blueberry bush Waiting to be picked.

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WORRIED Adelie Seven Oaks Elementary School The color red charging at me. The sound of my heart beating too fast. I see spikes everywhere around me. If I make a sudden move they get closer. I feel the banging of desks through my head. I want to cry until I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t cry anymore.

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MY HEART Scott Seven Oaks Elementary School My heart is a bunny getting Fat on carrots in the middle of The night his stomach hurts but He canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t stop My heart is a sad wind in the middle of the desert lonely and bored there is nothing for a thousand miles My heart is like a little boy Running in the ield With his friends And smelling the lowers

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WHAT MY HEART IS BUILT ON Chloe Seven Oaks Elementary School When I had no God, I made Hope what Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m built on and Why I keep going When I had no light, I lit The ire inside me When I had no dance let in me I found the beat in my heart And the rhythm in my soul When I had no umbrella I danced in the rain

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ANGER Ryan Seven Oaks Elementary School There is this thing in my body That wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t come out. Everything in my body is messed up Nothing is right. I feel like torn up paper thrown away trashed from my family. I see a lion with a broken leg Stranded in a forest And creatures are surrounding him. I feel in my body something making my heart drop. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s dropping down and down Until it stops beating.

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GRANDPA McCoy Seven Oaks Elementary School My grandpa tastes like a warm aternoon With a cool breeze and warm heart. My grandpa is the color turquoise Like a clear blue pool. My grandpa is like a turtle Slow going, but he gets where he needs to be. My grandpa is like a great Oak tree Full with wisdom and green leaves.

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MY HEART Ozzie Seven Oaks Elementary School 1. My heart is like a rocket ready to launch On ire and never getting enough light Through the endless, dark pit of space Where there is no destination Or about where the only thing that matters is lying through the endless pit of darkness 2. My heart is a football lung through the air Hands coming from the depths of the ocean trying to get my hands on my heart 3. My heart is like a tornado spinning Not knowing where it is One destroying everything close to it and being blind to the destruction

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THOUGHT Kjersti Seven Oaks Elementary School When I had no water, The sky was my drink When I had no food, I made earth my plate When I had no sun, I made energy my heat When I had no family, My friends were my home When I had no dreams, My imagination was my dreamer

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MY HEARTâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DIFFERENT MOODS Liam Seven Oaks Elementary School My heart is a baby ferret Happy to be alive, Playing in a ield of grass, and lowers With the sweet aroma surrounding it. My heart is a cave of despair That no one dares to enter, Rock shards and dirt on the ground Sharp enough to cut someone. My heart is a broken piece of art A masterpiece covered with snow, dirt, and footprints Forgotten forever Just to fade away.

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EIGHT WAYS OF LOOKING AT A MOUNTAIN BLUEBIRD Ysella Seven Oaks Elementary School

1. As the lightly colored bird pounces on its prey It lies away like nothing ever happened 2. As the sweet mother bird searches for sticks and straw to make a nest 3. A bird as sweet as A lollipop in a jar 4. As fresh as the morning skyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Wonderful breeze 5. As thriving as a freshly picked sugar plum 6. As wondrous as a sot blue feathery pillow 7. Sounds like a music box In a piano shop 8. A caring bird, a nice bird, And a loving bird Like nobody has seen before

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SAD Evelyn Seven Oaks Elementary School I am blue like the starry night sky. I smell the rain falling in the dark thunderstorm. I taste the tears dripping down my face. I can imagine clouds following me wherever I go. I hear the thunder striking across the dark sky Then the pouring rain in the tall trees.

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MY HEART Cate Seven Oaks Elementary School My heart is a gray, stormy, rainy day Where summer plans fall and crumble A day where smiles fade and frown A day where little hope remains A day where mistakes are made But then the sun comes out And everything changes A rainy day becomes sunny Summer plans are remade Mistakes are mended and forgotten And hope grows and sprouts Like roses seeing the sun ater a storm

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DARK WINDY NIGHT Nathan Seven Oaks Elementary School As I lay in bed, the sky darkens. The Oak tree bends under the weight of the weightless wind. I feel invincible, like my house is a force ield. I see little squirrels struggling to get to the tree. I can almost feel the wind, like it will take me away. I see how dark it is. The only sound is the wind. I am grateful for my sot covers.

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MY HEART Esther Seven Oaks Elementary School My heart is like a pomegranate Ready to share with everyone On a sunny, windy aternoon My heart is like a puppy doing tricks On a bright sunny day with other puppies My heart sounds like a mouse Sneaking for cheese On a cloudy day at a party My heart is a tree just sitting there On a windy day with no other trees beside it

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MY HEART Mackenzie Seven Oaks Elementary School My heart is a block frozen and canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be open My heart is like a turtle It is slow to recover from sickness I feel crushed I hear thumping I taste sorrow on and in my mouth. I smell ire like there are a thousand bulls outside my window My heart is like a pineapple being cut in two then itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s getting eaten by a thousand giants

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WHEN I HAD NOTHING Kassidy Seven Oaks Elementary School When I had no food Thought was my feast When I had no water I drank a blazing bright ire When I had no family I took love from my heart When I had no sun I had the bright moon to keep me calm When I had no animals to love me I had kindness When I had no friends to trust me I had laughter When I had no air to breathe I had water fresh from the river.

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ADVENTURE ON PLANET 965 an excerpt Tyne Seven Oaks Elementary School Princess April clawed at the rubble on top of her. It gave way and she burst into the cloudless sky. She looked around in dismay. The entire palace had collapsed on her. In the distance she spotted a small plirby bird. It had a bright yellow beak like the sun, and a rule of rainbow feathers. It was trapped under an elephant tusk. She lited it of the poor thing. The plirby bird gave a small squeak and kept on shrieking until Princess April held it against her chest. They huddled there for a long time until it started to rain. Princess April looked up in shock. On Planet 965, it never rained! “The Gods must be angry,” she told the plirby bird. “That’s what I’ll call you, Rain.” The plirby bird squeaked in reply. Princess April didn’t know how long they sat there. Only that it just kept raining. Eventually she heard a voice calling to her. “Miss April?” the voice called. It sounded scared. She slowly stood up, the plirby bird in her arms. “You’re alive! Thank the gods,” the voice said in relief. Her butler, a young boy named Stephen, was making his way toward her. She ran to him with Rain on her shoulder. When he reached her, a strange expression crossed his face. “You have to go,” he said shakily. “What do you mean, the palace has collapsed!” she shot back, wondering why he hadn’t noticed this before. “Not everything,” he replied in the same shaky voice. “Follow me.” Princess April followed him reluctantly. She soon found herself being led underground in a dark, damp tunnel. Seconds later, they were in a small room with an old door. “A prophecy needs you to save the world. This door leads to the God’s world. Go in and you’ll know what to do,” Stephen said. “Why me? Why not Lila the brave, or Misty the strong? I’m not the one you want,” Princess April asked desperately. She knew that if she went through that door she wouldn’t save the world. She might even destroy it! “I know you don’t want to, but the prophecy asks for you,” Stephen argued. Rain squeaked as if agreeing that they should go on a crazy adventure and get themselves killed. “I can take care of your plirby bird for you,” Stephen ofered, trying to grab Rain of Princess April’s head. Rain

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shrieked and clawed at him, making it impossible. “No thank you,” Princess April said coldly, mad at him for hurting Rain. Then she sighed, glared at Stephen and said, “I’ll do it, but I’m not happy about this.” Stephen opened the door. Princess April stared at the swirling portal. Rain jumped onto her shoulder and squeaked, pleading Princess April to let him come with her. She sighed again and stepped through.

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MARIAN PRITCHETT HIGH SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Guisela Bahruth

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THE SOCIETY Linda Marian Pritchett High School As I move, they move As they low, I low When we are one, we become They are the echo in sea shells They are the rock and roll of ships Their little beauties bring life I am their gushes and rapids I am their support and their peace in the storm When hurricanes come, we become As I move, He moves As he lows, I low When we are one, we become He is the echo in sea shells He is the rock and roll of the ships His little treasures bring life I am the gushes and the rapids I am his support, his peace in the storm When hurricanes come, we become As I move, She moves As she lows, I low When we are one, we become She is the echo in seashells She is the rock and roll of the ships Her little beauties bring life I am her gushes and rapids I am her support, her wind, her lighthouse When hurricanes come, we become

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He is the sea, She is the sea My river waters only spring forward We become, she relects the sky We become, He buries volcanoes We become, I bring anew Without We our dry lives are at rest Until that day comes, we become Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll help, we become free Us, you, me, her, his, he, she

He is the sea, He is the vast ocean My river waters only spring forward We become, he brings fresh rain We become, He serves the earth We become, I bring anew Without We, our dry lives are at rest Until that day, we become Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll help, we become free Us, you, me, her, his, he, she She is the great waters, She is what threads the earth My river waters only spring forward We become, she dances with the moon We become, her emotions form pearls We become, I bring anew Without We, our dry lives are at rest Until that day, we become free Us, you, me , her, his, he, she

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DON’T CRY Tai Marian Pritchett High School The lump in my throat chokes me but I swallow until it goes away. Always told “If you cry it’s a sign of weakness.” “Don’t cry. I‘ll give you something to cry about.” People say I’m emotionless but the days I don’t feel like crying are sparser than the days I do. The truth is my heart always hurts and the lump in my throat can’t always be swallowed.

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THE DEVIL IS FEAR Laura Marian Pritchett High School Fear is seeping out her pores Probably worried about money, drugs, and smokes Fear is attacking him from behind Probably losing it over his next class or job promotion Fear is chasing her Just trying to go on the rollercoaster with her friends Fear is biting at his back His girlfriend hasn’t talked to him in a while Fear is cackling at her She doesn’t know any of these people and she’s wasted Fear is wicked Fear is listening Fear is watching What are you worried about?

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FIGHT FOR LIFE Alicia Marian Pritchett High School Killing on the news Killed over the street you live on Scared to walk home Gunshots at night Domestic violence Crying children Mothers stealing Homeless women, children, and men Major drug use Fights over colored t-shirts Women and men ighting on the street Child Protection Services Drugged-up mothers Drug traicking Fight for life

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WHO ARE WE? Hailey Marian Pritchett High School We are the people who descended before us In a world where their mistakes are either Ours to own Or ours to ix We belong to problems they have created as we create more to add on We are told over and over that we are our mothers and fathers “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” If that’s true, then when does being me start being diferent than being you?

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HOW I BECAME A WRITER Shayla Marian Pritchett High School I started writing a lot of poetry when my life became diicult. The way that I helped ease my pain was by being creative through art and writing. When I was 12, my grandfather passed away. This was the beginning. Two years ater my grandfatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s death, my boyfriend committed suicide. I then ended up having crazy amounts of time to write and draw, due to being in and out of mental institutions for self-harming. When I was 16, I found out that I was going to be a mom. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s when I saw my writing change. Writing gives me an out. I can write about anything that I want. I will continue to write until I no longer physically can.

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STORM Leticia Marian Pritchett High School The power of thunder and the lightning sky on a windy night, look like veins so bright it makes everything shine. The noise can be frightening but beautiful from the inside. Its rain gives life to all living kind, striking with light whatever is in its path. This is light to the life and the power of being bright, the power of being strong, fearless and sharp.

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CRAZY-EYE GRANNY BACK AT IT Delaney P. Marian Pritchett High School Here she comes With her wild eyes Granny is short Granny has two eyes But one looks broken! Dancing while she walks In her vintage Mickey Mouse jacket And pigtails. Granny loves her life. Back at it again, With her singing Weird tunes Lost in her mind

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A BETTER PLACE Trinity Marian Pritchett High School Looking for a bridge to a better place, a door or a window. I am done living where the air doesn’t reach. I used to think there was no way out. My nails are crumbling trying to escape this torture, Then I realized I was looking too hard for an exit. When all along it’s the sun I’ve been craving. A better place found me.

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MEXICO Gloria Marian Pritchett High School I come from the city of mummies Toasted serrano peppers take over the atmosphere From children of all ages playing and laughing on the streets To roosters singing in the mornings, from cold dark nights People of all ages seeing blood everywhere Rivers of tears surrounding us, Tears of joy to tears of sufering To the festivities of the Day of the Dead MĂŠxico, this cold, yet loving place

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LA BRUJA DEL BOSQUE Monica Marian Pritchett High School Había una vez una pequeña niña que vivía con su abuela enferma en una pequeña choza en medio del bosque. Ella deseaba tener muchos amigos e ir a la escuela para aprender, pero ella no podía porque era muy pobre y cuidaba de su abuela. Un día la niña salió a las calles a pedir un poco de limosna para poder comprar las medicinas de su abuela ya que su enfermedad era grave y muy dolorosa. De vuelta a su casa, cuando la noche ya cubría el cielo, empezó a escuchar unas pequeñas voces saliendo de las ramas de árbol. Decían su nombre una y otra vez. Muy asustada salió corriendo de vuelta a su casa contándole todo a su abuela. La abuela muy enojada le dijo que no se atreviera a investigar lo que había escuchado. Muy confundida se fue a su cama preguntándose el porqué de ese gran enojo. A la mañana siguiente la niña salió a buscar un poco de comida. Al escuchar su nombre, muy valiente comenzó a perseguir las voces. Al llegar al corazón del bosque unas pequeñas luces se acercaban a ella diciéndole que era la indicada, que debía de seguirlas. Llegaron a un punto del bosque donde no se veía nada más que las luces con las que las hadas alumbraban. Estaba en un tronco muy grande y redondo. Las hadas le decían a la pequeña niña que se sentara, que tenían algo muy importante que decirle. Empezaron a decirle acerca de una bruja muy malvada y una hermosa bebé que vivía con sus padres. Al parecer la bruja tomaba toda la magia de las hadas para hacer sus hechizos malignos, teniéndolas cautivas hasta que morían. A veces la bruja bajaba al pueblo y se robaba niños para usarlos y llamar la atención de las hadas, pues la risa de los bebés llamaba su atención y les daba fortaleza y magia. Un día una pequeña familia estaba en el parque jugando con su pequeña cuando de repente una enferma anciana se les acercó para pedir por un trozo de pastel. De pronto la anciana, que era la malvada bruja, se lanzó contra ellos y les arrebató lo más preciado que tenían y jamás se supo de aquella pequeña bebé. - La bruja te ha estado usando desde entonces, dijo una pequeña hada. - Queremos salvarte y llevarte con tus papás. La niña quedó con un inmenso shock. Ahora se explicaba por

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qué su abuela no le demostraba amor ni cariño. Estaba furiosa pues había sido arrebatada de las personas que más la amaban y con lo que ella había estado soñando toda su vida, tener una amorosa familia. Muy enojada y triste la niña fue a su pequeña choza con aquella malvada bruja. Al día siguiente salió muy temprano al pueblo, quiso ir a aquel parque donde hacía muchos años ella fuera arrebatada de su familia. Sentada en una de las bancas vio que había un matrimonio que lloraba inconsolablemente. Ella tenía mucha curiosidad de saber cuál era su inmenso dolor. En el momento en que la niña se volteó. Vio a la bruja detrás de ella. La sujetó fuerte de su brazo y se la llevó de vuelta al bosque. Ella se resistió. Cuando casi llegaban a la choza le dijo a aquella bruja. - Tú no eres mi abuela, tú eres una bruja que solo me utiliza. La anciana se enojó tanto que trató de robarse su alma. Como por arte de magia todas las hadas del bosque se acercaron a ayudarla para derrotar a la bruja y liberarla. Unieron todos los poderes y al lanzarlo contra la bruja, ésta se hizo cenizas -Ya jamás hará daño. ¡Somos libres! Gritaron las hadas del bosque. Ellas estaban tan contentas. La niña estaba sorprendida por todo lo que vio. No sabía si sentirse contenta o triste, sólo quería regresar con sus papás. Al inal la niña bajó al pueblo a buscar a sus papás, dirigida por las hadas. Al verlos corrió a contarles todo lo que había pasado y sin pensarlo su mamá la reconoció y se puso tan contenta, la abrazó con tanto amor, el amor que ella jamás había sentido. Se sintió tan feliz que todo lo que había pasado quedó atrás, como una pesadilla.

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FRANK CHURCH HIGH SCHOOL Teaching-Writer Danny Stewart

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BROKEN Gabriel Frank Church High School There is an old room, inside Full of puzzles With broken pieces Uninished, they are waiting For someone Which piece is best? Check to see If there is a special part Check to see If you can ind The piece youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re looking for All puzzles Can be Put together.

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COSMIC INTERLUDE Gabby Frank Church High School I exist in a ield of violets now. Where every morning I wake up and kiss the sky I can see Heaven hidden in the cosmos if I look delicately The Sun pours glitter into all parts of my body, Filling me gently with a lust for life. I can taste the Angels and the Gods. I once lived in a pit of thorns Tearing my skin and the bare hands of renewal and rebirth. soot coats my lungs my jaded heart still bleeds red my lesh decays ready for incarnate prepared for oblivion. I believed that I had more time. I refused to say goodbye I was ready for the next punch Ready for Anything. that was when I saw the sky.

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FROM THE ASHES Alex Frank Church High School Dense evergreen loom over me I waver through the sweet pine Echoes of lost legends Drit on a breeze Waterspouts are crushed Under 17, 000 feet of ocean Déjà vu as the same trees pass The same trees pass The same trees The grove is somewhere In pure imagination? Cherry blossoms fused and gnarled Into a second scented sky Nirvana is reached in absolute silence The same stillness carries the wood before dawn Trunks protect records of life The growth of a thousand years nobody remembers A tinder of desperation sweeps her chilly gaze Crumbling memories to charcoal powder A caribou stands amidst blackened ingers reaching for the truth Charred cherry blossoms cling to the earth Pink swirls do not drit on the breeze He bows velveteen antlers to me They brush the singed petals like a single tear dripping down a new mother’s cheek I step forward, hand outstretched towards him My palm rests on his nose You’ve made it 140

SMOKE George Frank Church High School Smoke rises in the air, deceiving. Smoke sends thoughts rattling Through my brain. A kettle bell rings, vigorously. Smoke has struck again As casually as an old man in his luxury sedan, As visual as rainbows ater a lood. But here alone Smoke rises, Met with positivity, bravely, Like two men sword ighting to the death. Smoke takes true form. Smoke canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t undo What it has done.

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BLUE AND IN Edwerd Frank Church High School Blue like the ocean with crisp kelp in The kind you get lost in Her eyes have their own vocabulary Why, your eyes are like sapphires sparkling so bright Just lost in your blue eyes Blue eyes shimmer with angel glimpse Like spring violets luttering down My eyes are the ocean in which my dreams are relected . . . blue I igured my family would love him better than me Some things just ill your heart without trying My parents warned me about storms in the street But didn’t tell me about the one with blue eyes and a heartbeat I’ll soon forget the color of your eyes And you’ll forget mine With those eyes you could have set the sky on ire But chose to burn me instead

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ODE TO TREES Althea Frank Church High School The dead trees lip through my ingers. The ink tells a story. Paints a picture. My mind absorbed. The picture of words. They low together in my mind like water. Helps me ignore troubles. Emotions ill. Imagination works. Eyes ill up on the ink. Mind ills with created images. Exquisite words made into art. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s my key. Locking and unlocking. My imagination. Ignoring the venom thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s always there. Images are created with words. The pen is a paintbrush creating art.

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A SILENT VOICE Emily C. Frank Church High School One lonely tree willowed blowing, the air shipping itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s around but it stays silent but a young girl not ideal no money too many laws to be loved too many laws to love herself The girl is the whipping willow her thoughts like a symphony note to note lowing connecting but silent The wind changes the mood of the changes note to note lowing connecting but silent trying to create sound but the fragile willow makes only a whisper pines oak paper cherry wind blows their arms strong sounds of thunder the willow whimpers Day ater day the willow withers away silent

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BORAH HIGH SCHOOL BRIDGE PROGRAM Teaching-Writer Guisela Bahruth

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DIAMOND IN THE NIGHT III Bienvenue Borah High School Bridge Program I’m from Central Afrique. I’m a diamond in the night. I’m a green plant in the forest. I’m a lion running to ind food. I’m a sweet mango in the tree to eat. I’m the hot water on the women’s heads walking home.

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MY LIFE Elias Borah High School Bridge Program I am from Tanzania. Land of many rivers. Full of friendly forest sounds. Fresh bread and donuts made at home. Fresh air outside your home. Chicken and bread. Where many families make by their silence.

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MY BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY Sakina Borah High School Bridge Program I am from Afghanistan. Warm and cold blue ocean. Fresh and sweet strawberries. Beautiful river, blue water. Big market, people smiling. Beautiful warm lake and cold river. Full of happy children, women, and men. Spicy delicious food, motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s love.

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MY LIFE USE THIS ONE Sipan Borah High School Bridge Program I am from Kurdistan. I am from mountains full of trees. I am from my mom’s rice, Fast waters, and my uncle’s food. I am from mountains full of high trees. I am from my mom’s hot rice full of love. I am from fast, strong waters running with me. I am from my uncle’s warm food in the summer. I am from a very smooth earth. I am from Kurdistan.

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WHERE MY LIFE BEGINS THIS ONE Solomon Borah High School Bridge Program I am from Congo, like an ocean and many diferent tribes and languages. Like a big war and yellow dark fruit. Sometimes nice place to be sometimes a scary place. I am from Congo, noisy ocean, cooked sweet potatoes, A place of many dark fruits. Hip Hop music every time. Hard big rocks, and vegetable and eggs balitta.

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ERITREA, BEAUTIFUL FLOWER Tesfom Borah High School Bridge Program Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m from Eritrea, beautiful lower. In the morning when you wake up makes you happy Sunny, quiet, happy place. Feel so cool. Sunny, bright, playing soccer Quiet people.

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I AM FROM NEPAL Umesh Borah High School Bridge Program My name is Umesh Rai I am from Nepal, my home country. Beautiful blue river. Mountains growing like a breeze. Jungle like my heart. All the memories in my eyes. With friends together ishing. Smelling happiness. I am from Nepal. Small cities, big mountains. Smells like my happiness Like my momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s smell. Hundred diferent birds signing together. And everything is sweet.

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DIAMOND PERFUME Iyaci Borah High School Bridge Program My country is a blue ocean, Big rocks, diamond perfume and Children playing in the sand. My country is tsunami winds, Sweet potatoes and Superman movies. My country is Tanzania.

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SHOPPING MARKET Hla Thu Za Borah High School Bridge Program Chile spiced rice noodle And a lot of delicious food. People talking. Delicious curry, like Mommy cooks for me. The curry that I never forget.

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RED RIVER Rehana Borah High School Bridge Program Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m from Afghanistan. A red river in the winter. Smoke from burning gasoline; Sad, dark days. Crying women. Small children sitting by dead mothers; They canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t help them. Sad children, bloody clothes. Danger. Bombs, dead babies. Crushed buildings. Pieces of bicycles. Glass on the street.

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ADA COUNTY JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER Teaching-Writer Danny Stewart

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THE BEAUTIFUL WORLD Arielle Ada County Juvenile Detention Center The rainbow glistens above the butterly who has retrieved nectar from the nearest lower. Day lilies loat across the greenblue water as a frog jumps onto a warm rock. She cups her hands to hold a handful of golden leaves as her scarf moves to the rhythm of the wind. The sun shines its kind rays on her hair, giving it a glowing tone that makes his heart skip a beat.

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AM I ALONE? Opal Ada County Juvenile Detention Center I’m alone like the sun on a clear day My mother makes me feel cloudy and rainy the hot sand on my bare feet while I’m walking slow, my mother pushing me along to a dark cave... It’s cold in the blackest of the dark cave. I am shivering. I feel trapped like a fox about to chew of its leg to get free before they come. I see the slivered eyes of judgment on me from afar. I wish you could hear me like you hear the music. My face is becoming wet. Am I crying?

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A LIFE IN THE LONG BEACH PARADISE Venecia Ada County Juvenile Detention Center Hobos walking from screams, hitting heads on rusted cars. The crip/blood of best friends spilling into a puddle making them one. All thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s let of the dead is the remains of her skull on a cement block, and her innocent blood that found its way into our own gaping wounds. As your body moves away your soul stays behind in the shadows. The more experienced, but misunderstood. Found in a cement block garage, locked in with a stranger of forceful hands. Stored in a cell until safe to oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s self. Boyfriend stands with a broken glass bottle in hand, glass in my head. Forced into the shadows by those who you were once loved by. Owned by the streets, no receipt, no refund, just more cement.

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ABANDONDED GARDEN Dezaray Ada County Juvenile Detention Center I see the destruction coming: weeds beginning to fester, grow. I am caught in the middle can I ight through this devastation and ruin? Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s overwhelming I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t breathe I take a deep breath preparation beginning to ight, repel I am a lower in a ield of weeds.

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BREATHE Grace Ada County Juvenile Detention Center When you are drowning you’re not thinking about all the ights you’ve had with your family or how your brother forgot to pick you up from school one day you’re trying to remember how to breathe and you’re wondering, How did I get here? Swallowed whole from an ocean of your problems sitting pretty, perched with a Marlboro Red between those sorrow-ridden lips trying so hard just to breathe again.

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MOUNTAIN Colton Ada County Juvenile Detention Center We begin at the base. A lat ground. A clean slate. Not with knowledge of fear of heights. Boots tied tight, our bags start light and grow evermore hard to bear. Time mirrors an unclear picture of once fresh now mud-covered boots, once tied, now broken in. Bags, ripped and sagging. The slopes grow steeper, the grey rock face cracks with every inch you climb. Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve lost your ropes and climbing gloves and are let with bare split hands of mourning.

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GREY PERSPECTIVE Kyle Ada County Juvenile Detention Center Brown grass, dry wood, dirty books, regret for my hands in the ight. Anxiety for bug-splattered glass as I hope for it to last forever, but... happiness happens to come and strap me down like a baby in her seat, into the reality that lays before my eyesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; emotions misplace the puzzle piece. Not sure, just a feeling. Radio soon to replay the song in the moment, it brings my foot to the ground. But later, nothing will be seen but my cheek. The cycle of winter, spring, summer, fall all will come, eventually.

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HOME Jacob Ada County Juvenile Detention Center As he ends his night shit the lonely boy walks his path down the dark side streets not wanting to go home. Home. Not knowing what home is. Is it the place he sleeps at night? Or the shelter he runs to for cover?

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LIGHT WIHTIN DARKNESS Skyler Ada County Juvenile Detention Center My brain is in the darkness yet my soul is longing for light. I wish I were good. I know I can be good. But this darkness all around has the words coming out of my mouth seem normal. The things I think are dark. The things I do are dark. When I’m locked in a cage like an animal the light seems so easy to grab. When you get ahold don’t let go. When you get ahold grip it like a knife in the wild People assure me I’m good and bright. Now my complete self has to ind it. When I see and grip the goodness I look like a star in the black night.

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EXILED Harrison Ada County Juvenile Detention Center Being sent away attacked and scolded shackled and chained Made to feel strange a thing to be molded A piece in a game Given a new name forced to uphold it This time Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m tame This time Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve changed I hope someone noticed back to the same place being sent away

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ECLIPSE Jose Ada County Juvenile Detention Center I sit on my couch looking at the needle on my table wondering if this is the life I want. When I’m high I feel invincible, not even a lightning strike can take me down, I’m fearless as a lion in his kingdom. I’m viewed as a monster by those around me. Deep down inside I’m a kid with shattered dreams, a broken heart, and false hope. I lived a life of pure destruction, and for what? A high that will last as long as an eclipse. I want to stop but I feel trapped like a ly in a spider web. I know this leads to death but there’s no way out.

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SYRIA Noura Ada County Juvenile Detention Center The weather in my country is always sunny and it is very pretty. When I was young I always played outside with my pets. But I moved with my family to the U.S. and I have learned new things. When I was talking to my grandma I heard there was nothing let no pets no houses nothing at all.

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THE BOTTOM Emily Ada County Juvenile Detention Center I’m prepared for light on my way to the spinning aircrat on a straight pathway my stepfather ever so slightly throwing me completely of balance inally I climb my way back up and I’m in another’s clothes wearing another’s shoes all I can hear is the chopping of the air around me holding me together I am higher than I’ve ever been but I’ve never felt more sober Then I jump and I’m falling and falling deeper and deeper I fall as if I’ll never get back up again.

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SOUTHWEST IDAHO JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER Teaching-Writer Brady Udall

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EAST SIDE PARK Daniel Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center Downtown Caldwell is home to me cars on the freeway, netless hoops. To some it’s nothing more than a ghetto. But to me it’s a sanctuary. Ballin’ with my homies, never worrying about the future. It’s the here and now we live in.

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TONGA Kolomaile Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center The islands, the small church at the edge of the ocean. Old people laughing, the kids running around barefoot in stinky diapers, climbing coconut trees. The waves at night, the breeze blowing, the smell of salt the sound of singing somewhere far of.

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HOW TO SURVIVE IN JUVIE Juliene Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center First, forget what you know. Be where you are and who you are with. Follow in line. Think, but watch what you think about. Your thoughts can eat you to your core. Know your main enemy: yourself. Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think about your time, let it roll by you, never ask what day it is. Never forget who you are. It is easy to get lost. If you do forget, forget it all, every bit, and start over.

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I AM STRONG Makayla Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center Momma’s heart hurts I want to take her pain away As each day passes heaven seems to be calling her name. Pappa couldn’t hold on any longer. He now watching over me. I hope I’ll wake up and ind it’s only a dream I’m just a child but I feel so grown. Daddy wakes up and cracks open a beer he tells me that it helps him think clear. My brother refuses to come home. My mom? I ain’t seen her in weeks. And here I am, alone.

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BURN SLOW Lukas Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center It was morning at home The ire burning, winter outside. The snow was pristine, the light as loud as the sun, the ice sliding of the roof, the only sound.

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THE CABINâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S TEACHING-WRITERS Writers in the Schools 2017 - 2018

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Cassie Angley is a published and produced playwright, actress, singer, and theatre-maker. She began acting at age 5 in San Francisco with Aunt Lolly’s Shoe String Theater, and her journey in the arts has never stopped. She performed, trained, and wrote in New York City for 15 years where she wrote, produced, and performed in more than 12 original plays and musicals. While in New York City she began integrating arts and education by teaching designing and managing Literacy and Multi-Arts programs with students in the South Bronx. Four years ago she began researching Readers Theater, which combines her loves of theater, reading, and teaching. She went on to complete a M.A. Education Literacy and a Teaching Certiicate in Theater from BSU, so she can use Readers Theater as a tool to help struggling readers reach their full potential. Being charged by a grizzly in Denali National Park to being bitten by Piranhas in the Amazon are moments that deine Elizabeth Lester Barnes’ writing. Elizabeth is an avid adventurer and outdoor enthusiast. With an MFA from Boise State University Elizabeth runs Boise State’s Freewrite club for undergraduate students. She also coordinates the Sawtooth Alliance for Women Writers (SAWW). Elizabeth enjoys working collaboratively on her writing and has had her poetry combined with pottery in a show with artist Janimarie DeRose. As an undergraduate student Elizabeth’s one act play, The Makeup of the Messiah was produced by Utah State’s Theater Department. A Lecturer at Boise State University, Elizabeth teaches writing by day and by night battles dragons via her pen. Guisela Baruth is a writer of iction, poetry and prose. She has been working with young writers for more than iteen years. A native of Guatemala, Guisela has lived in Boise for 25 years where she was a Top Ten Scholar at Boise State University and earned her M.A. in Literacy. She has been teaching since 1977. She has provided literacy and whole language Spanish workshops throughout the Northwest. She runs La Tertulia Spanish Learning Center in Boise, an organization that aims to promote bilingualism and the beneits of multiculturalism. Natalie Disney is a iction writer inishing her MFA candidacy at Boise State University, where she teaches iction and is an assistant editor for The Idaho Review. She taught ESL to refugee families in Colorado before making her home on this side of the Rockies. Most days, you can ind her exploring the foothills behind her house while listening to westerns on audiobook.

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Katie Fuller is the Program Manager at The Cabin. Originally from Maine, she is responsible for The Cabin’s Writers in the Schools (WITS), The Cabin’s Summer Writing Camps for kids in grades 3-12, and adult writing workshops. Katie graduated with a B.A. in History from Colby College (2006), an M.A. in English from the University of Maine (2013), and has an MFA in Creative Writing from Boise State (2016). She is passionate about promoting quality arts education in the Treasure Valley. Katie is also a poet—her chapbooks Valve and The Greenwood Cemetery are out with DoubleC¬ross Press and dancing girl press. More about her writing life can be found at www.katieelaynefuller.com Playwright Heidi Kraay examines the connection between brain and body, seeking empathy with fractured characters. Writing across disciplines and training in diverse theater vocabularies give her tools to live better making art. Plays include Rajpurr: Tale of a Tiger, How to Hide Your Monster, SuperSecretSiteSpeciicSomething (co-devised), New Eden, DIRT (co-devised) and Kilgore. Her work has been presented in Boise, regionally and in NYC. Heidi holds an MFA in Creative Inquiry, Interdisciplinary Arts from California Institute of Integral Studies. Member: Dramatists Guild of America. www.heidikraay.com Mary Pauline Lowry is author of the novel Wildire. Her work has appeared in O, the Oprah Magazine; The New York Times Magazine and other publications. She is currently a student in the MFA in Creative Writing Program at Boise State University where she teaches undergraduate iction workshops. Laura Roghaar is a poet and educator. She holds a BA in English and Communication from UC Santa Barbara and an MA in English Literature and an MFA in poetry from Boise State University. Her chapbook of poems, SISTERHOUSE, is out from dancing girl press.

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Daniel Stewart has taught in the Writers in the Schools program since 1999, and serves as Writer-in-Residence at Ada County Juvenile Detention, and Frank Church High, an alternative school, in Boise, ID. He is the author of a book a poems, The Imaginary World (Wolf Peach Press, 2003). His poems have appeared in Puerto Del Sol, Rattle, Prairie Schooner, Educe, A Journal of Queer Literature, Sixfold, Thrush Poetry Journal, and YesPoetry, among others.

Brady Udall is the author of The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint, Letting Loose the Hounds, and The Lonely Polygamist. His work has appeared in The Paris Review, Esquire and elsewhere. He teaches writing at Boise State University, and was appointed Writer-inResidence of Idaho in 2010. Christian Winn is a iction writer, poet, journalist, and teacher of creative writing. His iction has appeared in McSweeney’s, The Chicago Tribune’s Printers Row Journal, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Greensboro Review, Chattahoochee Review, Gulf Coast, Bat City Review, Every Day Fiction, The Pinch, Santa Monica Review, Handful of Dust, The Strip, and Revolver. His collection of short stories, NAKED ME, is out from Dock Street Press. He has written for The Boise Weekly, Thrive, The Idaho Statesman, and Idaho Magazine. He is the founder of the Writers Write iction workshop series, co-founder and committee member of Storyfort, and curator of Modern Campire Stories. He teaches iction writing at Boise State University, and through Writers in the Schools and The Cabin’s summer camps.

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THE CABIN

is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We’ve been creating human connections through words since 1996. We forge community through the voices of all readers, writers, and learners.

WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS “WITS”

Writers in the Schools brings professional teaching-writers into Treasure Valley schools and juvenile detention centers to provide in-depth writing instruction and conidence-building feedback to local students.

THE CABIN’S SUMMER WRITING CAMPS “Camps”

Ignite your child’s love of writing! Led by local professional writers, our weeklong camps will challenge your young artist to explore multiple genres including poetry, iction, memoir, journalism, or even graphic novels. At week’s end, your camper will read to an audience of family and new friends and submit work to be published in one of The Cabin’s yearly anthologies.

READINGS & CONVERSATIONS “R&C”

The Cabin’s Readings & Conversations lecture series brings some of the best authors, thinkers, rabble-rousers, and cultural icons to Boise. Join us at the Morrison Center or the Egyptian Theatre for a chance to hear Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award winners, MacArthur Fellows, and bestseller book-club phenomena share their work, personal stories, and commentary on current events and culture.

GHOSTS & PROJECTORS. a reading series. “G&P”

Ghosts & Projectors is a reading series that pairs emerging, innovative, and experimental writers with writers from the Treasure Valley. Since its founding in 2011, Ghosts & Projectors has welcomed poets such as Eileen Myles, Kate Greenstreet, CA Conrad, Cathy Park Hong, and Bhanu Kapil to Boise and has challenged and amused audiences with events like the Poetry Speakeasy and a Bad Poetry Reading. 180

ADULT WRITING WORKSHOPS It’s time to tell your story! Sign up for one of our Adult Writing Workshops to develop your ideas and hone your writing techniques. Our workshops will give you a chance to share your work with classmates and receive one-on-one evaluation from a professional writer.

DROP-IN WORKSHOPS / WORDS IN ACTION Drop-In Workshop is The Cabin’s free and open writing workshop, held from 6:30 – 8:00 PM on the irst Tuesday of each month. Drop-In is hosted by writers Danny Stewart and Heidi Kraay, who create unique prompts designed to inspire a supportive community of local writers. On the third Thursday of some months, WORDS IN ACTION drop-in pairs local activists and a Cabin teaching-writer to write, think, and talk about social justice issues.

AUTHORS IN THE SCHOOLS The Cabin’s Authors in the Schools program brings our National-Book-Award-Winning, Pulitzer-Prize-Receiving, Other-Glowing-Accolades-Collecting Readings & Conversations authors to classrooms across the Treasure Valley.

WRITERS IN THE ATTIC “WITA”

Want to see your work in print? New and experienced writers alike are invited to submit to The Cabin’s annual Writers in the Attic anthology. Each year we provide a new one-word theme as inspiration for your short prose or poetry. Selected pieces are published in our anthology and available online and at your local bookstore.

WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE at LIBRARY! BOWN CROSSING The Cabin is bringing local literature to East Boise! In partnership with the City of Boise, one local writer a month will activate, engage, and interact with Vox Poplar, a piece of public art created by Janet Zweig. Vox Poplar consists of a large, sculptural, scroll of paper with a bas-relief image of Cottonwood trees carved into the face. The scroll of paper feeds into a manual typewriter mounted to a pedestal where our writers type their masterpieces.

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INDEX A Adelie • 106 Alanna • 65 Aleah • 75 Alex • 140 Althea • 143 Ali • 21 Alicia • 128 Anna • 26 Annabelle • 72 Annie • 11 Arielle • 157 Austin • 77 Ava • 100 Avalee • 92 Avery A. • 31 Avery G. • 58

B Bienvenue • 146 Brody • 37 Bridget • 48

C Cate • 116 Charles • 6 Chloe • 108 Cole • 102 Colton • 162

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Daniel F. • 18 Daniel • 171 Delaney M. • 95

Delaney P. • 132 Densie • 70 Dezaray • 160

E Edwerd • 142 Elias • 147 Elliott • 49 Emily C. • 144 Emily • 169 Esther • 118 Eva H. • 19 Eva M. • 80 Evelyn • 115

F Frannie • 59

G Gabby • 139 Gabe Y. • 96 Gabriel • 138 George • 141 Gloria • 134 Grace B. • 52 Grace • 161 Gracie • 71 Grant • 94 Griin • 27

H Hailey • 129 Hannah • 35 Harrison • 166 Hla Thu Za • 154

I Indigo • 50 Isaac • 84 Iyaci • 153

Luca • 43 Lukas • 175 Luke P. • 29

M J Jackson • 16 Jacquelin • 66 Jacob • 164 Jayde • 28 Jayden • 68 Jose • 167 Juliene • 173 Justice • 17

K Kaiya • 57 Kaleb • 61 Kolomaile • 172 Kassidy • 120 Kennedy • 46 Kessler • 23 Korbin • 79 Kjersti • 112 Kyle • 163

Mackenzie • 119 Makayla • 174 Malaya • 83 McCoy • 110 Meleny • 81 Molly • 103 Monica • 135

N Nathan • 117 Noel • 74 Noura • 168

O Opal • 158 Or • 33 Ozzie • 111

P Paia • 105

Laura • 127 Leah • 47 Leticia • 131 Levi • 10 Lexus • 76 Liam • 113 Lillian • 22 Linda • 124 Lindsay • 88 Lindy • 97

Rachel • 12 Raferty • 44 Raiya • 54 Rehana • 155 Reid • 15 Riley • 55 Roman • 86 Roxete • 78 Ryan • 109 Rylon • 67

183

S Sabrina • 8 Sakina • 148 Sariah • 73 Sam F. • 45 Samantha G. • 90 Scott • 107 Sebastian • 98 Seth • 39 Shayla • 130 Sipan • 149 Skyler • 165 Solomon • 150

T Tabitha • 24 Tai • 126 Taylor • 104 Tesfom • 151 Thatcher • 42 Theo • 51 Tigre • 82 Trace • 99 Trinity • 133 Tyne • 121

U Umesh • 152

V Venecia • 159

Y Yazlyn • 69 Ysella • 114 184

Z Zoe • 53

CAMBIA WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS 2018 Nirvana is reached in absolute silence The same stillness carries the wood before dawn Trunks protect records of life The growth of a thousand years nobody remembers A tinder of desperation sweeps her chilly gaze Crumbling memories to charcoal powder A caribou stands amidst blackened ﬁngers reaching for the truth Charred cherry blossoms cling to the earth Pink swirls do not drit on the breeze He bows velveteen antlers to me They brush the singed petals like a single tear dripping down a new mother’s cheek I step forward, hand outstretched towards him My palm rests on his nose You’ve made it

— ALEX From the Ashes (an excerpt)

Cover photos: Bill Perry