Rutland Herald Index 2012-13

Three wishes
THIS WEEK: Wishes & Vacation

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Three wishes; and Best vacation. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
Dear Readers
This is the nal week of Young Writers Projects student writing in this space for the 2012-13 school year. Thanks for being with us. We hope you enjoyed it. Well be back with more in September, but in the meantime, you can continue to see great writing on youngwritersproject.org and on Vermont Public Radio at vpr.net through the summer. YWP has many to thank for this Newspaper Series, including the editors and publishers of Vermonts newspapers who value the importance of writing and afrming students best efforts. Please support your local newspaper! YWP also salutes the young writers and photographers, who consistently amaze and inspire us with their work, and the teachers and parents who encourage them. And young writers, YWP has mentors and readers who are eager to read your summertime submissions on youngwritersproject.org, so dont stop writing just because the sun is shining!
GEOFFREY GEVALT, YWP FOUNDER AND DIRECTOR, AND SUSAN REID, PUBLICATIONS
COORDINATOR
BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School
One of my three wishes would be for no bullying because many kids die each year from bullying. Another wish would be to be able to y all over the world and visit exotic places. My last wish would be the ability to rewind time; if I didnt like something I had said or done, I could rewind it. BY MICHAELA STERLING Grade 9, Rochester High School If I had three wishes, one thing Id wish for is happiness because happiness is what I think life is all about. Id also wish for peace with myself, because I think its important to be at peace with yourself before you can have the condence to face the world. The nal thing that I would wish for is to nd my soul mate before I die; as cheesy as that may sound I think that nding your second half contributes to lifelong happiness. BY SAMANTHA HADVAB Grade 7, Benson Village School My rst wish would be to own the fastest four-wheeler made that could go through almost anything, get over almost everything, and would have tracks that I could put on so I could ride it even in the winter. My second wish would be to own a huge jacked-up truck with 52-inch tractor tires, that would rarely break no matter what, and could also go through anything! My last wish would be to have a huge log cabin out in the middle of nowhere with hundreds of acres to hunt and go riding on.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runs youngwritersproject.org and the Schools Project, a comprehensive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

YWP is supported by the generosity of foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contribute, please go to youngwritersproject.org/ support, or mail your donation to YWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.
Special thanks this week to BAY AND PAUL FOUNDATIONS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Key West
BY OLIVIA SUKER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School
Boston
BY CODIE CROSS Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School
Loading the bus with my grandmother going to Boston, I think to myself, I cant wait until I get there! When we arrive, Im ready to go see all the sh at the aquarium. Right when I get inside I am excited; I hear penguins making a squawking noise. I scamper to the penguins; they are black, white, and with a yellow crown, and they are astonishing!...
Read the complete story at youngwritersproject.org/node/81849.
Melissa Stewart/Essex High School
Dream vacation
BY GRACE STEWART Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School I would love to ride my purple and white Kiki bike on the Great Wall of China, and feel the wind rushing at my
face and blowing back my hair, but most of all, to actually see the ancient wall built to stop the enemies from trespassing. Also,100 percent pleasure and completely amazingly beautiful, would be walking around Hong Kong, shopping, and eating Chinese food. I hope I get there someday!
We paddled into an opening in the cluster of mangrove trees, and I felt like I was in a completely different world. The branches of the trees reached down towards the shallow water. I dipped my hand into the crystal clear liquid and felt the still calmness of the room temperature water blanket my hand. A variety of birds squawked and ew from branch to branch, going about their daily business. The scent of salt water ooded my nostrils. The tour guides voice awakened me from the stillness as he pointed out a jelly sh swimming near the bottom of the water. I watched, mesmerized, as the jelly sh slid along the sandy ocean oor. I remember feeling like I was in a magical forest in the ocean, a land unharmed by humans. My vacation to Key West, Florida was unforgettable.
MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

YOUNGWRITERSPROJECT.ORG
Three wishes
BY ISABELLA CARRARA Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School My very rst wish will be to have a very pretty fairy that likes the outdoors as much as I do. My second wish will be to be a good nature photographer. My third one is for my friends to be nice. BY BRIAUNA WOODBURY Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School I would want some yarn to make some yarn dolls and use my creative side. I also would like some clay to do my science fair project for school. It would be helpful if I could have an experiment kit to do experiments at home and maybe make one or two experiments for the science fair. BY TORYNCE HATHAWAY Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School I wish for endless wishes. I wish that there was nothing sad in the world. I wish everything was...perfect. BY OWEN STARK Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School I wish I had a very colorful parrot that would copy me. I wish I had a goldsh that would look at me and I looked at him. I wish I had a forest around my house with millions of friendly animals. BY OLIVIA ANDREWS Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School If I was granted three wishes, I would like peace and quiet. Id like talking to animals and listening to their feelings. I would like to be happy all the time.
THIS WEEK: Wishes & Fairy tale

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Three wishes; and Fairy tale: Write a fairy tale that includes the phrase, one thousand peas. To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
Beyond compare
BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named Alexandria... She had silk clothing and the most beautiful brown hair in the world. All the princes wanted to have her heart. Every year her father would try to nd a prince worthy enough to be her husband. But to every prince that asked for her hand in marriage, she always said no. One day Alexandria was walking to the stables, and when she arrived, she was greeted by the fairest prince of them all! Prince William! She was very surprised. Alexandria, he said while he got down on one knee, will you do me the honor of being my bride? Alexandria was so disgusted! She hated it when people asked her to be their bride when they didnt even know her. She was so mad she stormed out of the stables and headed to a local witchs house. She quietly opened the door and called out. Hello? Is anyone here? Suddenly, the witch popped up right in front of her. What are you here for? A potion to make you a mermaid? A spell to make you sleep? What is it you want? I want a potion to make me the ugliest human being ever! she proclaimed. Why would you want that? You have beauty beyond compare! The witch was very confused at Alexandrias request. Thats the thing! Every man in the castle always asks me to be his bride because of my beauty! she exclaimed. And thats a bad thing, because? the witch asked. I want a husband who loves me for me; now what is your price? I will pay anything! Alexandria had a desperate look in her eye. OK ne, one thousand peas! she told Alexandria. I ran out of them while I was making my stew... Now, all you have to do, the witch stopped as she used her powers to poof up a greenish looking potion, is drink this. Alexandria grabbed the potion and gulped it down. Suddenly she started gasping for air; a giant green cloud swarmed around her.. After a very bright ash, the once beautiful Alexandria was transformed into the ugliest, smelliest, most horrifying human being ever! Thank you! Now to show the world my new face! After this day, Alexandria got more than she had bargained for. Not only have men stopped asking her to be their bride, they have stopped talking to her at all... She never returned home and she lived a lonely life by herself in an old cottage in the woods.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to
BIRDSEYE FOUNDATION
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Kevin Huang/Burlington High School
MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE IN BURLINGTON AND BRATTLEBORO!

Send your best poetry or prose to be considered for Millennial Writers on Stage at the Burlington Book Festival on Sept. 21 or the Brattleboro Literary Festival on Oct. 5! Send as a blog on your youngwritersproject.org account (If you dont have one, its easy to sign up); click Newspaper Series and the prompt, Millennial. Or email your submission to sreid@youngwritersproject.org.
New
BY SHEA BUTLER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Groups of girls, whispering lies. I hate the way they generalize. Shes the new girl, shy and weak. I dont think she even speaks. Batches of boys, borrowing the ball, Dont pass to her, shes so small. Excluding others, but they dont care. As long as they win, its all fair. So Im the new girl, I guess thats ne, Ill take it in stride. But, would the label go away if they stopped and looked inside?
THIS WEEK: Music & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Music: Choose a piece of music and write a story that ows from it; and General writing. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
Hero
BY KELSEY EDDY Grade 9, Mill River Union High School I stood in the hall, head down and avoiding any eye contact. As soon as I saw an opening I snaked my way to my class. This was my routine, though it wasnt exciting. Until today. I was walking down the hallway when I saw a girl, but no ordinary girl. She was Emily. Everyone was a jerk to her, mostly because she had a birth defect that made her face look lopsided. Today a group of boys were harassing her for the fresh cuts on her wrist. They called her an attention seeker. I watched, and so did most of the people in the hall. I was disgusted. I never liked bullies, nor did I act like one. I went through my time of being called a freak and a retard. I never knew that being a tomboy was against the popular code, but now I just keep to myself and let others get bullied. As I watched, I noticed her crying, and something inside me churned. I watched as a boy raised his st, ready to punch her, to get the crowd riled up. I snapped. Fury burned in my chest as I stormed through the group, pushing my way past people to get to Emily. As soon as I was next to her, I realized the choice I had made, and I couldnt turn back. Leave her alone! I shouted at them. There is nothing wrong with her! Why do you guys need to destroy a life to get satisfaction!? The crowd seemed taken aback by my actions. Awww, do you love her? one taunted. No. She is my friend, and I wont let you low-lifes hurt her any longer, I snapped back. Emily tilted her head, and for the rst time ever I saw her smile. Nobody helped me when I was in need, but that doesn't mean I will let others suffer what I did. A teacher broke up the crowd and sent them off to class, and I turned to talk with Emily. Thank you, she said quietly. I smiled and grabbed her hands, turning them palms up so we could see her cuts. Promise me you will live, and help me stop this bully business. She nodded her head and wiped away the tears. I promise, she said, smiling. This is only the beginning, I said, more to myself, knowing that I had just done the right thing, and knowing hardships were to come, but I couldnt let that stop me. - Inspired by the song, Hero by Superchick
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runs youngwritersproject. org and the Schools Project, a comprehensive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

Symbolized heart
BY CHEYENNE TAYLOR Grade 11, Mill River Union High School The dusty piano keys lay as a reminder of the broken love and lost memories. Since that last night, no one has touched them, not even to play a mournful song. The last nger prints were hers and thats the way he will keep it, for those keys are symbols of his heart.
Special thanks this week to GREEN MOUNTAIN COFFEE ROASTERS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Music
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy You enjoy your music and I enjoy mine Yet you may not like it well, hey, thats just ne Music of all kinds speaks to the soul some with deeper meaning than one may know Country, pop, and rock all music to me Rock is my choice the one that sets me free Drums, guitar and voice make a melody All these together is heavenly to me
Isabella Byrne/The Sharon Academy
MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE

PRESENTED BY YOUNG WRITERS PROJECT AND VERMONT PUBLIC RADIO
Send your best poetry or prose for performance at the Burlington Book Festival on Sept. 21, 2013. Submit as a blog on your youngwritersproject.org account (If you dont have one, its easy to sign up); click Newspaper Series and the prompt, Millennial. Or email your submission to sreid@youngwritersproject.org.

Silent love
BY ALIYA SCHNEIDER Grade 9, Rutland High School
THIS WEEK: Dislike & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts. The best writing is selected for publication here and in 21 other newspapers and on vpr.net. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Dislike: Write about something that disgusts you; and General writing. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.

PRESENTED BY YWP AND VPR
Send your best poetry or prose for performance at the Burlington Book Festival on Sept. 21, 2013. Submit as a blog on your youngwritersproject.org account (If you dont have one, its easy to sign up); click Newspaper Series and the prompt, Millennial. Or email your submission to sreid@youngwritersproject.org.
The forgotten memory was sparked as she froze close and could hear his breathing a swarm of monarch butteries lled her small inside called a stomach hoping for something and this hope brought her back back to her memory of the night. They were standing in a line just like they were told girl in front of boy, waiting for instruction. she was nervous terried yet content. Who knew how he felt? She had no intentions of slowly backing, back back millimeter by millimeter plowing through thick mud until her back was against his front their bodies touching. He took it as her sign, as it was of affection nally the sign. He slowly took her hands slowly slower than the millisecond by millisecond hands interlock gently arms wrapped around bodies interlocked. Love connected. No words were needed. The moment was perfect it was all she needed of true feeling but then it was time. Too soon, wake up and realize. It was a dream. Not real. Not true. Not there. She hoped it was a sign at least. How typical, she thought, how that she was me, but the he wasnt you.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

YWP is supported by the generosity of foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contribute, please go to youngwritersproject.org/support, or mail your donation to YWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.
Disgust
BY HILARY DUBOIS Grade 8, Benson Village School Absolutely One thing By all means disgusts me Stomach goes in knots Shed a tear, look away, cover my eyes Feel awful Never want to see it happen, ever Animal abuse Hate the fact People feel badly Take it out on poor innocent animals Creatures get beaten, bruised, tortured Pity the people Whose lives are screwed up Taking it out on animals Terrifying the animal Scarring them for life Scared of a certain gender Previous owner You can see the sorrow, pain In the animals eyes Sad to think Unloved at some point Makes my heart break Feel there is nothing I can do To make them feel loved Want to wrap my arms around them Around their furry bodies Want to make them feel like there is hope Dont have to suffer, can feel loved Animal cruelty disgusts me
CHAMPLAIN INVESTMENT PARTNERS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Bugs
BY ALISON VAN ALSTYNE Grade 4, Bridgewater Village School Bumble bees sting me, and it hurts. Ugly ies bug me. Gross mosquitoes sting me and make me itch. Spiders scare me the most.
Josh Kenyon/Essex High School
Shatter
BY CALLISTA BUSHEE Grade 8, Home School, East Wallingford On the second Friday in January, a calf was born at Seward Farm in East Wallingford, just 10 minutes from my home. She wasnt out of the ordinary; in fact, she was anything but different.
THIS WEEK: Farm Project winners

Congratulations to Callista Bushee and Kelsey Eddy , two area writers who were among the six statewide winners of the YWP Farm Project writing challenge! The Vermont Com munity Foundation, sponsor of the challenge, will award the writers $50 with an additional $50 donation to a local food or farm nonprot of the winners choice. Seventy-seven writers participated in the challenge, showing that farming and local food matter to young Vermonters. Read all of the Farm Project submissions at youngwritersproject.org.
Dusty Creek Farm

BY KELSEY EDDY Grade 9, Mill River High School I turned the doorknob and walked into the milk house. The milk container was cold, as expected, and the family had not started without me. I walked through the milk house and went into the barn. I walked down the aisle, looking for my grandpa. Hey Sprout, you here to help out or talk to the old lady? he asked. We both laughed. My grandpa had a great sense of humor, and always called me Sprout. Go clean off the calves, he said, all business-like... I always loved cows, even though they were huge compared to me, and much stronger, but most of them were nice... Cows werent like dogs, but they had their own ways into my heart... Milking a cow is complicated because there are many dangers. If the cow is used to another person, she will sometimes refuse to allow others to clean her. Blonde was the one who did that. She only wanted my grandpa to milk her, and we didnt argue. Some of our cows we have to sing to, so they will calm down; some you just have to yell at and tell them youre the boss. My grandpa was the toughest man around the farm. Unlike me, who can be scared of cows at times, my grandpa was tough and fearless, even though he had his limits. He was the best grandpa I could ask for. My grandma was right with him; she loved the farm, and her grandkids, and always pushed herself, no matter what... Farming was my life, all the hard times that we had to work through, from hay season where my dad and I raced to beat thunderstorms in the hay wagon, to xing broken water tubes that water all the cows, to going in knee-deep water during Hurricane Irene to save the cows from drowning in the eld, to the death of calves, that always silenced the barnyard. There were also good times that I will never forget, like watching my little sisters feed the calves, playing and brushing the calves, seeing a baby calf being born, grandpa teaching me how to drive the tractor, staying up all night talking about all the fun we have, and all the little things that I hold so dear... But now, as I look around at our cows, hear the sound of the farm, remember all the good and bad, I cant help but cry, because all this, that I grew up to know and love, is being sold this summer.
Read Kelseys complete story at youngwritersproject.org/node/ 79906
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Callista Bushee and Shatter at Seward Farm, East Wallingford
VERMONT COMMUNITY FOUNDATION
The heifer, the rst female calf in several months of bulls, had a thickheaded temper to her, like her mother, and boasted her rudeness from day one. But that Monday, one of the two days I spend volunteering at Sewards each week, she caught my eye. We usually only name registered or special calves, and she was neither. A bit smaller than most, her size was the only unusual trait about her, with regular markings and, of course, her tough disposition. However, the calfs strong will was much like my own, and she grew on me. With permission from Art and Dave Seward, the two wonderful guys who own and operate the farm, I named her Shatter for her white markings, which in some places looked like shattered glass. With time, Shatter became more eventempered, and her affection for me grew. After Id trained her to give me her hooves upon request and a few other useful tricks, I began working with her on a halter, walking her any chance I got. Bit by bit, Shatter worked her way into my heart, funny little nose rst. Working at Sewards is by far the highlight of my week, not only because of Shatter but because no matter how grim things look, Art and Dave always nd a way to laugh. One way or another, they cheer you up, and they have showed me that even in the toughest situations, you can always nd a way to smile.
Kelsey Eddy at her familys farm in Wallingford

PRESENTED BY YOUNG WRITERS PROJECT AND VERMONT PUBLIC RADIO
Send your best poetry or prose for performance at the Burlingto n Book Festival on Sept. 21, 2013. Submit as a blog on your youngwritersproject.org account (If you dont have one, its easy to sign up); click Newspaper Series and the prompt, Millennial. Or email your submission to sreid@youngwritersproject.org. Deadline: Monday, June 3
Keep the penny?

BY SHEA BUTLER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School After having it as an American symbol since 1793, the United States is debating eliminating the penny. Sixty-seven percent of Americans believe obliterating the one-cent coin is completely unacceptable and pointless. The other 33 percent think differently. We should not cease minting the penny. If we abolished the penny, prices in stores would be rounded up to the nearest nickel. Americans would start to rely on nickels, which cost 10 cents to make, when the coin alone is only worth ve cents. In 2012, one fourth-grade class raised $132.17 for the Salvation Army Penny Drive. If the U.S. eliminated the cent, we would be taking money away from soup kitchens, hospitals and other organizations that raise money for the needy. This 220-year-old coin is worth much more than some realize.
THIS WEEK: News, 6 words, General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts for a commentary on a News story; General writing and the popular 6-word stories. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
THE FARM PROJECT

WRITING CHALLENGE
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Watch this newspaper and youngwritersproject.org for the six winners to be announced next week!
Sponsored by The Vermont Community Foundations Food and Farm Initiative
FAIRPOINT COMMUNICATIONS
Six-word stories
BY SAMANTHA BARKER Grade 4, Castleton Elementary School My brother is cooking. Oh, no! BY JAZZMYNE DUNLEAVY Grade 4, Castleton Elementary School Unicorns, pearly white on snowy night.
One-cent debate
BY VAL GIESEY Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School Canada has eliminated the one-cent coin. Should we follow suit? I think the United States of America should not eliminate the U.S. penny. Most likely, stores and restaurants will round their prices up and make them unreasonably high. Their excuse will be that they couldnt use the old price(s) because the company/organization isnt allowed to use pennies in their prices anymore. Also, if we lost the penny, we would become more dependent on nickels, costing 10 cents each to make, which is even worse than the penny costing only 2.14 cents each.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
BY TREVOR MACKAY Grade 5, Castleton Elementary School Sunshine. Daisies. Butteries. Nets. Jars. Release.
The whitebreasted nuthatch

Margaret Slate/Peoples Academy
NEXT PROMPT
Vacation. Recall a specic moment on a favorite vacation and describe it. Or imagine your perfect vacation. Alternate: General writing. Due May 17
BY OLIVIA ANDREWS Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School Suet is what these birds will eat It is a very tasty treat They walk straight up and down a tree Black beady eyes staring back at me Insects and big seeds they will eat A black hood covers their head While they say, Tweet, tweet When it rains, they go to their treetop house They are as quiet as a little mouse
Birds eye view

BY MOSAICS BRIDGES CLASS Grade 3, Castleton Elementary School Soaring through the air My feathers ow and air. I y above apple trees; People are small like bumblebees. Im oating through a cloud Slowly scavenging round and round. My shiny wings are apping As I do a little snacking. Spring is here; I build my nest. This is the place my eggs will rest. Now my babies learn to y. They can join me in the sky.

How old am I?
BY VAL GIESEY Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School Morning sweetheart, I hear a feminine voice coo. Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. Aaaaaaah! Who said that? Get your hand off me now! Aaaaaaah! I start to wheeze, then I cant even breathe and I panic. Slowly, I start to calm down, trying to take some deep breaths. When I turn my head towards the voice that startled me, I see a beautiful woman, frozen in place, shocked. I feel myself relax a little. Well, hi... I drift from each word with my head in the clouds. I can hear a romance song starting in the back of my mind. Um sweetie, are you feeling OK? questions the lady. Suddenly the music screeches to a stop. Yeah? I pause, as if not knowing what to say. Ill be ne, I guess? I try to sound at least a little sincere. OK, says the female quizzically, as if she doesnt quite believe me. I feel sick to my stomach. Am I dreaming? Or am I looking into the future? I think to myself. I hope its not the second option; who wants to sleep with a girl in your bed? Worse, what if that girl is my wife? I shiver at the thought. Um, arent you going to go get in the shower and get dressed? questions my wife. Sure... I say as I dart out of the bed and into what looks like the bathroom door. Why is the bathroom lled with clothes? Thats the closet, honey I hear someone say, the voice mufed by the shirts hanging on the doorknob. Right... Sorry about that, I say, dashing into the real bathroom across the room. I look into the mirror and immediately gasp. My once soft face is now covered with rough sideburns, wiry whiskers, and my hair is a mess. As I soak in my new looks, my expression changes from an about to scream with my jaw wide open look to a surprised with mouth closed look. I peek my head out of the door. By the way, how old am I? I question the lady. 35, she answers. Thirty-ve? My mind bellows. I ask another question. And what am I supposed to be doing today?
THIS WEEK: 35 & Strength

ach week, Young Writers Project receives several hun dred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts. The best writing is selected for publication here and in 21 other newspapers and on vpr.net. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, 35: You wake up and you are suddenly 35. What happens? ; and Strength: Describe a time when you had to be strong.Read more great writing at youngwritersproject.org.
THE FARM PROJECT

WRITING CHALLENGE
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Watch youngwritersproject.org for the six winners to be announced soon!

Sponsored by The Vermont Community Foundations Food and Farm Initiative
VERMONTIVATE
From 15 to 35
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy I go to bed, Im 15. I wake up at 35. How did this happen? Where went my life? I look in the mirror; Wow, have I changed! Im no longer a teen. I think I am deranged. I go and drink my coffee. I guess I have to work. I really hope that my Boss is not a jerk. I dress in nice clothing, Very business-like. This isnt so bad; It might just be alright. Then I slip and fall, Landing on my head. I open my eyes And Im 15 in my bed.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Nate Ertle/Essex High School
Spartan race
BY KELSEY EDDY Grade 9, Mill River Union High School I strive to be the best, no matter the cost. I entered the Spartan race with my adrenalin pumping and my heart racing. The Spartan race was known as the toughest race, and it is. Through cold water and three miles of hell, over 10-foot cargo nets and eight-foot walls, through mud and forest, over hills and rocks, and over re and under mental pain and barbed wire, I had to push through it all, and I thought I wouldnt survive.

I was so cold I couldnt feel the cut on my leg. I was so tired I couldnt take off my own boots. But I was so proud that I was able to ght through it. Its tough, and can get very hard the farther you go. But the feeling of accomplishment is overwhelming to be able to ght your mind, telling you to give up and that you cant do it, and to ght your body that grows cold and weak. I respect all that have made it through, and I honor the military because they go through much worse. If there is one thing I could tell anyone who wants to enter this race, it is to not go alone because it is much harder to ght your own mind.
NEXT PROMPT
Music. Choose a piece of music and write a story that ows from it. Tell us what music you were listening to. Alternate: Three wishes. What would you wish for? Tell us in three sentences. Due May 10
Six-word stories
BY SHEA BUTLER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Captive elephant escaped. Reunited with family. Nighttime shadows lead her to adventures. Idea sparks. Word spreads. Fires lit. Sweat trickling down her forehead. Victory.
THIS WEEK: Six words

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompt, Six words: Write as many six-word stories as you can. To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

BY HANNAH FARRELL Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School
Littering spreads. Pollution starts. Oceans ruined. If littering spreads, animals will die.
BY SOPHIA MOORE-SMITH Grade 7, Christ the King School, Rutland
BY GRACE GILMAN Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School Our last farewell to another world.
Now its time to say goodbye. I bet youre happy to leave. You think your time was wasted. But it wasnt, really, I swear. I can tell that youre upset. But you cant leave, not now. No, not after everything Ive done! For you, your dilemmas, your issues. Sad part is, you dont know. Dont know that I helped you. Who bailed you out every time? Who was always on your side? Who stuck by till the end? Yeah, that would be yours truly. You didnt ever notice me, though. I stayed in the shadows, waiting. For something to happen to you. Just so I could help out. You were my hero, my idol. But didnt even know I existed. You, oblivious to everyone but yourself. I hoped you might notice me. Maybe we couldve even become friends. And now we have just met. And Im a loser, a geek. Tried to tell everything Ive done. You just thought I was creeping. Some lovesick stalker following you around. But I just wanted a friend. One friend, just one little friend. Hah, its too late now, though. Youve already started to walk away. Guess its time to say goodbye.
BAY AND PAUL FOUNDATIONS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
BY HANNAH PAGE Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Scared and wet. Locked outside. Pouring.
NEXT PROMPTS
Technology. Your cell phone is broken and you cant get a new one. Its your rst day without it. What happens? Alternate: Photo 11. Write a story about the photo below. Due April 26.
Andrea Marie Neville/Chelsea Public School
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy I look up at the sky The bumble bees y close by Dogs bark loudly as they play In green grass where I lay The owers smell oh so sweet The petals tickle my bare feet A day in the parks fun Lying down under the bright sun
BY PATRICK DUGAN Grade 9, Woodstock Union High School Falling, falling, oh no, Im falling! Ugh, never mind. Just a dream. Whats that noise? Oh, my alarm. Ugh, Ill just ignore the beeping. When is summer? Please come soon. Saturday. Saturday. Saturday. It is Saturday. Where is that light switch again?
Long ago. Write a journal/diary entry of someone from a different time period, past or future. Alternate: Being right. Describe a time when you were sure that you were right, but someone else refused to see your view. Due May 3.


Break the silence

BY JESSE A. SUMNER Grade 12, Rutland High School The silence hangs heavy in the air Filling in all the cracks Its icy grip Sends a cold pain to your lungs What heavy sound Can break this barrier of empty The laughter of friends The utter of a heart beat Those who let it drown them In the translucent depression Are only too weak To live, happy
THIS WEEK: Rhyming & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts for Rhyming poetry and General writing. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runs youngwritersproject. org and the Schools Project, a comprehensive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

A Vermont show
BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School Snow-covered ground Smell the great winter air Snowakes falling Feeling the breeze run through my hair Hot chocolate lingering in my mouth Brother and I building a fort Its getting dark Cuts our time short Mom yells to come inside I go inside because Im cold My brother calls me a wimp Im just doing what I was told Fresh-baked cookies on the counter I take some and enjoy My dog playing with her bone I walk over and kick her toy Im frozen like ice cream Cozying up on my couch Decide to make hot cocoa From the box I take a pouch Add rainbow marshmallows For a better taste How amazing hot cocoa is Can never let it go to waste Vermont winter ever so delightful Born and raised in this snow White and uffy A beautiful show
Black heart
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School I live in a dark ice prison. My life have you realized? Has a black heart controlling me. I have to believe in myself. Is it possible? You take my sorrow and stab me with it. Dont leave me alone like this. Will you be there for me? My heart melts cold and black. Ice rests on my fate. My life have you realized? Has a black heart controlling me. I want to break this ice cage that surrounds me. I want to free myself of this burden. Holding onto your hand tightly, I believe in you. I believe in myself. Though it never lasts long. This pain, this loneliness, I will share it with you. Darkness encases me. My heart melts cold and black, This ice prison undefeated. Dont leave me. The once weaved strands of fate unravel into a pile of knotted thread. I try to pick up what was once life with my hands. Time slips through my ngers and vanishes. My tears freeze before hitting the ground. They grow dark. I cant see. I try to grasp my fate, and throw myself at the murky crystal wall. Nothing happens. On my knees, I scream out for hope. No sound emerges. My life have you realized? Has a black heart controlling me. Will I ever escape? Save me.
GREEN MOUNTAIN COFFEE ROASTERS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Dancing shoes
BY SAMANTHA VAN DE VEN Grade 10, Woodstock Union High School Each breath I breathe in, my heart beats ve. Did I tell you its been light years since Ive felt this alive? Music notes play in my steps, sounding from my feet. My limbs move in electric waves,
NEXT PROMPTS
Scared. What really scares you? Why? Tell a story about when you confronted it. Alternate: White lie. Write about a little white lie that grows and turns into a bigger lie until you cant keep up. Due April 19
streaming to the beat. Its just a walk down the street like any other day. But its nighttime now; Ill let my dancing shoes lead the way. City lights so bright, looks like stars fell from the sky. Can you see the shining mischievous glint in my eye? Staring up at skyscrapers with a nod at the dawn, Spin around to kiss the night goodbye, before its gone.
Maple sugaring
BY KAYLA STOLIKER Grade 4, Castleton Elementary School Tap the trees Drip, drip, drip goes the sap I take a lick Mmmmm...sweet sap Cold nights, warm days make the sap drip always Time to boil Bubbling, boiling steam air coiling Its amber color sinks into me Its done. Time for pancakes!
Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Lesson: An old man sits down beside you on a park bench and teaches you something; and General. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
THIS WEEK: Lesson & General
THE FARM PROJECT

WRITING CHALLENGE
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences.YWP runs youngwritersproject.org and the Schools Project, a comprehen sive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
Chess lesson
BY ZANE TENZER Grade 8, Benson Village School I was playing chess in the park the other day. One man I played said that he had never lost a game of chess, and he bet me $10 he could beat me. I agreed, pulled out my wallet and placed $10 on the table. It looked like he knew what he was doing from the start, but turns out he didnt even know which way to move his pawn. He lost terribly and said that he had let me win. Double or nothing, he said. In no time I beat him, and he stormed off, $30 short. I was feeling good, and I thought that I was unstoppable. I played a few other guys for money, and I was up to $70 when I noticed an older man had been watching me play the whole time. He came over to me, sat down across from me and asked if I would like to play. I told him that I would go easy on him, but I had no problem beating old people. The game lasted about ve minutes when he nally beat me. Again? he asked. All right, but Im not going to let you win this time, I said condently. This time he beat me even more quickly. We played at least three more games, and he beat me every time. I was getting annoyed because he kept the same face the whole time we played, and the only thing he said to me was, Again? We played once more, and the closest I came to beating him was knocking off his bishop. I asked him his secret a little louder than I had hoped. I noticed people staring around at me like I was yelling at this old man whom I didnt even know. I felt like a fool, but the man looked up at me and smiled. He told me that his trick wasnt a trick. He said that he kept calm the whole game and that his opponent would always feel nervous and therefore, wouldnt be able to think clearly. That old man taught me something: Never be too condent or angry because it blinds you and you dont think clearly.
THANKS FROM YWP
WIN $50 FOR YOU AND $50 FOR A FOOD OR FARM

NONPROFIT OF YOUR CHOICE
WRITING PROMPTS
AND CONTEST DETAILS AT
youngwritersproject.org/farm13
DUE FRIDAY, APRIL 12

Sponsored by the Vermont Community Foundations Food and Farm Initiative
MAIN STREET LANDING
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Off track
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy The sun shines down, The wind blows my hair. A cute little puppy holds my stare. The bench where I sit suddenly moves. I see an old man and I disapprove. If I wanted a guest, I wouldve asked, But my annoyance I have to mask. He taps my shoulder and smiles so kind All annoyance then leaves my mind. You look like a smart one, He says to me. I stare in wonder. He chuckles, Well, maybe. Have you ever loved and lost? Breathed but not lived? Put everything into all And anything you give? I look and smile. He gives one back. Dont be afraid to get a bit off track. I sit there and ponder What he has just said. I have something to say So I turn my head. The bench there is empty. My old friend has gone. I know his wise words Are ones I must act on.
Alia Jenkins/South Burlington High School
Deceit
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School Hate. Power. Corruption. The knowledge of ignorance. The reaction of those not knowing their outcome. Fear. Terror instilled in the eyes and minds of the innocent. Riots spread out like a river overowing from its banks. Destruction. Dissolution. Depletion of humankind. Ination of needs become more than wants. Lives live in the shadows, stealing from one another. Some living on a penny, each voracious for courage. Individuals starve for supremacy, with higher-ups hungry for more acreage. The endings of a homeland.
THIS WEEK: Purple egg & General

Each week Young Writers Project receives hundreds of submissions from students written in response to prompts or as general work. A team of students helps select work for publication in this and 21 other newspapers. This week, we publish writing in response to the prompt, Egg: You go outside one day and nd a big, purple egg. What happens? and General.
THE FARM PROJECT

WRITING CHALLENGE
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

WIN $50 FOR YOU AND $50 FOR A FOOD OR FARM

WRITING PROMPTS
AND CONTEST DETAILS AT:
youngwritersproject.org/farm13

Clarice the dragon

BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School Walking along in my backyard, I glance at something big and purple in a slight indentation. What is that giant purple ball? I pick it up. Its an egg! But of what bird? What birds egg is purple? Ive never seen a purple bird! Have you? I dont want to say the egg; I will name her Clarice! Clarice starts shaking. I freak out and drop her in the dirt, shaking, shivering and now cracking! Clarice is breaking her shell! I run to get a towel to wrap the new bird in, but what I nd is quite interesting: A blue, tiny and adorable dragon! Is this Clarice? She gets up and stretches. Suddenly she starts wobbling towards me. I step back. She tilts her head. She stumbles towards me. I turn to run to my house. I trip in the process. I ip over. Clarice starts snifng my toes. She climbs on my chest. She starts licking my face. I start laughing. Clarice tilts her head again. She gets off of me and I get up. Once Im up, I put her in my arms. I look down at her and say, This is the start to a great friendship.
THE TURRELL FUND
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
To the rainforest
BY HAILEY HULTS Grade 7, Benson Village School I walked outside one morning and I tripped over something purple and ovalshaped. I brought the purple thing inside, went up to my room, and lay it on my bed. Next I got a box, set the thing inside and put it in my closet. A few days went by and I had not checked on the object. I was sleeping when I heard a sound like a bird, but not a normal bird a tropical rainforest bird. I went over to my closet and opened the door. Out ew a beautiful macaw like a rainbow coming out of my closet. The macaw was sort of small with an orange beak and a red body with a rainbow-patterned tail... The bird grew bigger and bigger and my room was getting too small and stinky for both of us. So I knew I had to do something... My friend came over and we popped the bird in a box, poked holes in it and taped it shut. We wrote, Fragile. Handle with extra care. We bought plane tickets and ew to Brazil. When we got to the rainforest, I told my bird I loved him and to be safe in the big, open world. I told him he was an amazing bird and I gave him a kiss. He ew off and I started to sob but then I remembered I did the right thing. The bird was safe there and I had to go back home. I will never forget that purple egg.
To read the complete story, you can go to youngwritersproject.org/node/78976
Morning run
BY MEGAN CHAPIN Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Sun rising. Early dash down track. Scarf owing, uttering behind my back. I know I will be victorious. I am. Victory is mine!
Ashley Warren/Essex High School
Alone again
BY ANNA HARRINGTON Grade 10, Woodstock Union High School The sun was shining high in the sky. I was mining through my brain, and decided to go to my backyard and watch birds y by. So out I walked And an odd sight met my eye. I was rather shocked: A large purple egg on the ground did lie! I didnt know what to do, So I watched it till a few days later when with a crack and with a little re too, A purple dragon ew out and hit a tree with a whack! So I taught it to y, And after I had opened my heart, With a tear in my eye I watched it soar away and I was alone like I was at the start.
NEXT PROMPT
Mystery. Something very strange just happened, and you dont know how or why. Write a story. Be succinct. Alternate: Photo 10. Write about this photo. Due April 5
Photo 10 Katy Trahan/ Essex High School

The slanted house

BY OLIVIA SUKER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School
THIS WEEK: Silver & Photo 9

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Silver lining: When bad things happen, how do you recover?; and Photo 9. To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
THE FARM PROJECT

WRITING CHALLENGE
My family had just moved to the countryside of Shrewsbury from Rutland, and I was meandering through my new neighborhood when my eyes landed on a rickety and slanted house. The house had a front lawn that resembled a junkyard. I dont Photo 9 Carl Mydans think there was a (Library of Congress) single window that wasnt broken in the whole house. I was startled when I saw a statue-still beagle perched in front of a sleeping man in tattered clothing in the second oor window. The beagle just stared at me, not barking, not moving. I crept forward to make sure my eyes werent deceiving me. Once I was sure I was correct, I started to back away from the house. I stepped backward onto a plastic water bottle that crunched underneath my foot. With a jerk the man in the window awoke. Suspecting I was not a wanted visitor, I bolted away from the house. Once the house was out of sight I slowed to a walk and allowed my mind to wander. I wondered why the house was so slanted and laughed to myself when I thought about a builders left leg being taller than his right, so it looked straight to him. I also wondered why the man and his dog were living there. That was a question I could never answer.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

AND $50 FOR A FOOD OR FARM

WIN $50 FOR YOU
PROMPTS:
1. FARM: Share a story about a farm or farmer that you know. Write about an experience youve had on a farm, or, if you live on a farm, the daily joys and challenges your family faces. Tell a specic story or anecdote to bring it alive and to show why farming is important in Vermont. 2. FOOD: Theres so much great food thats grown or made in Vermont. Your family may have a farm, garden or buy food that comes from the area. Share some of the wonderful and challenging things about getting, growing, cooking or eating local food. Tell about a specic experience youve had or hope to have with local food. SUBMIT: Write on your YWP account, click prompt Farm13, or email sreid@youngwritersproject.org.
Special thanks this week to VERMONT BUSINESS ROUNDTABLE
Song of the brave

BY CLARA HENDERSON Grade 9, The Sharon Academy Oh, let me linger In the bright-eyed groves Where time Is my sweet little toy And chances grow On lemon trees For every girl and boy. I know this place So very well Unlike the cold outside Its soft in here, please lay me down Where promises reside. Oh no! You cannot let me go, Dont lead me out the door! The door into that bitter place Where love is lost in war. Ill freeze with every jagged step And every icy glance! Please, let me stay In the bright-eyed groves Where life is just a dance. But if its destiny you say Im forced to see it through Oh, how Ill miss the silken grass And pools of hopeful blue. Ill brave this crooked, wronged, old life In search for something right! Ill share my ndings with the dark And make the whole world bright.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
DUE FRIDAY, APRIL 12 Contest details at youngwritersproject.org/farm13

Woodchucks
BY LANA PAGE Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School
I was wandering around the old red barn, wondering why the structure was tilted when I spotted a woodchuck waddling in the long grass. I wanted to see where he was going, so I tip-toed behind him making as little sound as possible. I heard a dog bark so I looked to where the sound was coming from. When I turned around, the woodchuck had vanished. After a couple minutes of searching, I stumbled upon a giant hole, which might have been the woodchucks home. I poked my head in, looked around and saw a bunch of tunnels. Within 10 seconds, I pulled my head from the hole. I didnt want to scare the woodchuck or get scratched. I thought for a few seconds and then realized, thats probably why the red barn is tilted. The tunnels have made the ground unlevel.
Dog in the window

BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy
Eve Pomazi/Brattleboro Area Middle School
NEXT PROMPT
Promise. Write about a promise you made but couldnt keep. Alternate: Strength. Write about a time when you had to be strong, physically, mentally or both.Due March 29
I walk down the street with nothing in mind. I hear a low bark but no dog that I nd. I stop and listen. I hear it again. But then there I see a dog longing a friend. Hes up in a window in a rickety house. It doesnt look livable even for a mouse. I say, Come here doggy, come here to me. Ill be your friend and help you be free. He makes his way down, he lies at my feet. This little lonely dog is now ever so sweet.
Bottles and pans

BY ZOE RIELL Grade 10, Homeschool, Poultney
THIS WEEK: Eternal & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Eternal night: The sun doesnt rise one day or the next day. What happens?; and General writing. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
THE FARM PROJECT

WRITING CHALLENGE
Theres a girl at a sink with some bottles and pans, unaware that she holds someones heart in her hands. This girl is an alchemist with a mind set on love crafting concoctions to snag a prince from above. And there is a boy who has seen her through those trials and errors, who is dreamily sure that theres nobody fairer. Its out of hope that he tries all her powders and potions, praying to be noted by his true loves emotions. His was an adoration burning on through the years, until he was buried in bottles, high up to his ears! But waiting and waiting to intercept her routine was not nearly as painful as remaining unseen Thus, he jumped, taking care where he leapt, landing so softly in the room where she slept. Whispering softly, in ears unsuspecting, words he hoped would fast be connecting. I want you to look at me, woman to man, and reect on the things that Ive done for your hand. With your endless supply of tinctures and brews, your heart wants to be able to craft a debut. But your true love is before you, watching you try to nd a companion to hold when you die. I have sat here and kept silent the thoughts in my mind, but its true that no longer can I see you go blind. I want to marry my love with her bottles and pans, walk into eternity; two names in the sand. So Im begging you, please! Drop your disguise! Abandon your bottles and open your eyes!
ABOUT THE PROJECT
THANKS FROM YWP

WIN $50 WITH A MATCHING $50 FOR A FOOD OR FARM NONPROFIT OF YOUR CHOICE
1. FARM: Share a story about a farm or farmer that you know. Write about an experience youve had on a farm, or, if you live on a farm, the daily joys and challenges your family faces. Tell a specic story or anecdote to bring it alive and to show why farming is important in Vermont. 2. FOOD: Theres so much great food thats grown or made in Vermont. Your family may have a farm, garden or buy food that comes from the area. Share some of the wonderful and challenging things about getting, growing, cooking or eating local food. Tell about a specic experience youve had or hope to have with local food.
PROMPTS:
Special thanks this week to PHYSICIANS COMPUTER COMPANY
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
HOW TO SUBMIT: Use your YWP
account, keyword Farm13, or email your entry to sreid@youngwritersproject.org.

Contest details at youngwritersproject.org Sponsored by The Vermont Community Foundations Food and Farm Initiative
Audrey Dawson/Westford Middle School
Everyone wonders
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy I stretch my arms and yawn I expect to see some light The clock says 9 in the morning But it looks like night I go throughout my day

With no shining sun Everyone is wondering But nothing is being done I wake up the next morning Again I see dark Eternal night is showing I think I hit the mark We will adapt to darkness We dont have a choice Eternal night is dawning Nocturnal beings rejoice
Six words. Create as many six-word stories as you can. Alternates: News story. Write an opinion piece based on a current news story. Take a side and make a persuasive argument in a maximum of three paragraphs; or General writing in any genre and any style. Due March 22
NEXT PROMPT
Free
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy My bare feet hit the road, not a car in sight. My speed picks up the pace, my thoughts and heart take ight. Running down the Photo 8 Kayla Rideout/Essex High School road laughing, wild and free. The wind blows through my hair, not a worry in me. The sun is shining bright in a cloudless sky. I feel the warmth within me as I kiss worries goodbye.
THIS WEEK: Photo 8

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompt, Photo 8. Read more great writing at youngwritersproject.org.
YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences.YWP runs youngwritersproject.organd the Schools Project, a comprehen sive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
CLIMATE CHANGE
WRITING CHALLENGE
Write about one of the biggest issues of our time. Prizes and recognition on Earth Day! See contest details and writing prompts at
youngwritersproject.org
ABOUT THE PROJECT
THANKS FROM YWP
Presented by Young Writers Project and Vermontivate the sustainability game for Vermont communities
Sunset
BY HAILEY HULTS Grade 7, Benson Village School Im running into the sunset, the erce pink and red sky. The breeze blows in my face as I charge against the wind. I feel as if the world is dying and the wind is going to snatch me up into the sky. It makes my heart thump like thunder as my feet pound against the road. I think of whats beyond that horizon as I run down the rocky dirt road into the sunset.
Special thanks this week to FAIRPOINT COMMUNICATIONS
Wonder
BY MADISON PARKER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Cold morning, Dirt road, never ending. Bolting down. Where will I go? When will I stop? Will he nd me? I wonder.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Lonely road
BY KEVIN LAROCK Grade 8, Benson Village School Running in the wind The sun almost set My feet hurt I have no shoes. My feet are blistered I have run so far The light mustnt fade from my view Light is my friend Light mustnt leave me Im too scared of what might happen My legs grow ever so tired Im so drained, I rest The sky is dark There are sounds I hear a howl from the woods behind me It makes me jump I hear more sounds Then I realize that the sounds are normal I have heard them before I walk on
Katlyn Schmigel/Essex High School
Soaring birds
BY RYLEIGH COLOUTTI Grade 4, Castleton Elementary School Soaring high in the sky Rufed feathers as they y They dip down in the lake to grab a sh During the sunrise and the morning mist They chirp and sing a happy tune Later the bats y by the moon They y back to their nest To get a good nights rest The mamas chirp in their sleep But the babies do not make a peep
On the run
BY VAL GIESEY Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School Balmy sunset Dirt road snaking through Rocks ying, airborne in her wake Withdrawing from everything Extracting herself From an aggravating life Embracing the light
When she arrives

BY MEGAN CHAPIN Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Evening arriving, Abandoned path drawing me near. I need to be rst To greet her when she arrives. If Im not number one, who will be? Dont be disappointed in me.
Bottle on the shore

BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy I walk without a care Sand between my toes When I step on something Something no one knows I look at the ground And see a shiny thing I look to see a bottle What message does this bring On a piece of paper Written in clear script Is a plea for love Just then my heart ripped Set asail at sea Wandering for love This lost soul Needs care from above Never nding love But only nding me I decide to leave it For the person after me
THIS WEEK: Message in a bottle

Each week, Young Writers Project receives submissions from students all over Vermont. We select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week, we publish responses to the prompt, Bottle: You nd a message in a bottle. What is it? Read more great writing at youngwritersproject.org, a safe, civil online community of writers.
CLIMATE CHANGE
WRITING CHALLENGE
Write about one of the biggest issues of our time. Prizes and recognition! Respond to these writing prompts: 1. The year is 2050. Looking back, the climate crisis was solved in the most unexpected ways. You were there for a crucial moment. What happened? Or 2. Do you believe the world can solve the climate crisis? Tell us why.
Contest details at youngwritersproject.org
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runs youngwritersproject. org and The Schools Project, a comprehensive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at 802-324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

Presented by Young Writers Project and Vermontivate the sustainability game for Vermont communities
Special thanks this week to JANE B. COOK CHARITABLE TRUSTS
The note
BY ADAM S. STEWART Grade 7, Benson Village School
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Rescued
BY PATRICK BAUMAN Grade 7, Christ the King School
One day I was coming home from a long day of shing when I found a bottle with a note inside. I quickly opened it, making sure no one saw me. When I unfolded the note, I read it out loud to myself, I have seen a monster sh chasing small sh on the small reef to the north of the cliffs. After reading this, I went straight home to tell my dad that in the morning we were going to try and catch the monster sh in the small reef north of the cliffs. But when I got home, my dad had all of the shark gear out. When I asked him what he was doing, he said, Im going to go and catch the monster sh on the small reef north of the cliffs. How did you hear about this? Well, I was at the bait store when I found a piece of paper that said this sh is a monster and it lives on the small reef north of the cliffs. So as my dad and I loaded the truck with gear and my mom was working on making us lunch, I decided to go and get David but when I got to his house, he, as well, had his shark gear out. I heard you reading the note, he said. I was shing the point. Now lets get going before anyone else nds out about this monster sh...
Lindsey Stuntz/Woodstock Union High School
NEXT PROMPTS
Lesson. You are sitting in a park and an old man sits down beside you. At rst you are annoyed, but he teaches you something that you had no idea you could do. What is it? Alternate: Rhyming poetry. Write a poem that follows any strict rhyming scheme. Due March 8 Outrageous. Write a story that begins, This is the funniest story Ive ever heard Alternate: Thirty-ve. You wake up and you are suddenly 35 years old. What is your life like now? Due March 15
One day I was walking along the beach and a bottle washed up on the shore. I didnt think much of it until I picked it up. There was a piece of paper inside. I pulled it out and it said S.O.S. I recycled the bottle and took the paper home. The next day I rented a house boat. I needed to nd the stranded author of that note. I brought along enough food to last me a month and began the search. It took days to nd anything, but I nally found a small island. I landed my boat on the beach and tied it to a tree. I had brought along a tracker, and it couldnt nd anything. So I went further. A day later I found a huge volcanic island. The tracker found something! I followed the tracks up to the volcano mouth. Two people were clinging to the edge, one was unconscious. We dragged him out and started walking back to the boat as the volcano erupted! We started running and barely got back to the boat. We escaped the lava and sailed back home.

Read the complete story at youngwritersproject.org/node/77758
Sweaty backs, dirt under ngernails

BY REBECCA CLARK Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School I live in Vermont. My world is surrounded by farms and farmers. All day I pass elds and rows of corn. I pass the corn maze and beg to go inside. Another day, my mom says to me, as I stare longingly out the backseat window from my car seat. And I know I will get many more days this season because the world is beautiful with orange, red and yellow leaves everywhere. The crops on all the farms this season are plentiful, thanks to the long hours of work with sweaty backs and dirt beneath the ngernails. The food is delicious, too. I want that sweet corn from the lady on the corner. The Corn Lady is my favorite place to stop. We pull up to the back of her dirty white Chevrolet pickup truck. I want to buy everything she has in the truck. It all looks so delicious. It isnt just corn, but many other vegetables, too. The world thinks that children dont like vegetables, but me, I always longed for when harvesting time came and all that delicious, ripe food went on sale. I wished desperately that farming was a year-round sport. I just didnt want this wonderful display of food to run out, and without farms and hard-working farmers and animals, I wouldnt be able to enjoy these extravagant meals.
THIS WEEK: Vermont Writes Day

Hundreds of students, teachers and school administra tors participated in Young Writers Projects annual Vermont Writes Day taking just 7 minutes on Feb. 7 to write! This week, we publish writing in response to Vermont Writes Day prompts, Moment, Farming and Robots. Read more at vermontwritesday.org and at youngwritersproject.org .
WRITING CONTEST
Vermont students in 7th and 8th grades: Write a short essay about an amazing school meal experience and win prizes! One winner from each of Vermonts 14 counties. Find out more at hungerfreevt.org or email contest@ hungerfreevt.org.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Nevermore normal
BY ALISHA ARSHAD Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School The birds were chirping, the sun shining. The laughter of kids lled the room, talking and joking with each other. Some students were texting their best friends, teasing each other, joking around. Teachers had their pens clicking, scribbling down the grades, checks and xs. It was supposed to be a regular school day. It was meant to be a day where nothing unusual would happen, a normal day. This was all true, but that all changed when the robots came, invading the Earth, taking away our freedom and peace. We may never be able to go back to our normal world again.
AMY E. TARRANT FOUNDATION
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Skiing with my dad

BY PETER SELL Grade 4, Killington Elementary School It was a moment I will never forget, the day that I went skiing on Mount Hood with my dad. We were doing drills for GS and I was going down a trail on the side of the mountain. I was going faster than I usually go on GS skis when I started feeling like I was not doing a lot of work. It was the rst day that I felt that on skis. It was a very strange feeling, almost as if I was actually just skimming across the snow.
Without farms
BY EMILY DONNELL Grade 4, Killington Elementary School Farming is very important. If we did not have farms, we would not have milk, cheese, yogurt, ice cream, butter, eggs, veggies, fruit, or even sh from sh farms. It would be very hard to live without all of the food we get from farmers...
NEXT PROMPT
Lesson. You are sitting in a park and an old man sits down beside you. At rst you are annoyed, but he teaches you something you had no idea you could do. Alternate: Rhyming poetry. Write a poem that follows any strict rhyming scheme. Due March 8

Alia Jenkins/South Burlington High School
Winter wordsmith
BY ZOE RIELL Grade 10, Homeschool, Poultney
THIS WEEK: Photo 7 & I like...

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Photo 7; and I like... Read more great writing at youngwritersproject.org.
The clock
BY LINDSEY STUNTZ Grade 10, Woodstock Union High School I really dont know how I got up here, I couldnt explain it if I tried. My brain is spinning crazily, It really is feeling fried. I look around in wonder And at the view below. I try and think of an answer, But there is none that I know. Photo 7 Brady Bessette/ I woke up Essex High School one morning Only to nd to my great surprise That I was small and sitting on a clock. I swear these are not lies! I used to be 53 Now I am the size of the three. The clock hands are my seat Rather than the branches of a tree. As I sit here and I ponder, I grab at a nearby book Which also is rather small, If you care to take a look. I dont know long this will last. I dont have any other plan. I might as well sit here reading And enjoy it while I can!
I like the weight of paperback books, Particularly those in alphabets foreign. The smell of fresh ink and covers so shiny Unknown words, but syllables soarin. I like the way my hands mold to mugs, With bases chipped and steam fast leavin, Curled on the couch with the snacks piled high, Drinking tea, it seems, is as natural as breathin. I like how quaint words often seem on pages, With row after row of young ideas playing: How, spoken aloud to a group of freshminded, The natural ow has to go without saying.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences.YWP runs youngwritersproject.org and the Schools Project, a comprehensive online class room and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

YWP is supported by the gen erosity of foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contribute, please go to youngwritersproject.org/support , or mail your donation toYWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.

UNITED WAY OF CHITTENDEN COUNTY
Almost time
BY SAMANTHA HADVAB Grade 7, Benson Village School Its 10 of 3, schools almost out. I cant wait to ride my 05 LTZ 400 four-wheeler. I am so excited, I cant stop thinking about my wheeler. I want to ride it through the mud, and jump super high. Its only 10 minutes. How long could it actually be? These minutes are really going by like hours. This day has already been so long. The anxiety is killing me, I need to get out of this entrapment. I have been sitting for too long. I just want to walk out the door and run to my house! I would just jump on my wheeler right then and there, pop the clutch out into a sick wheelie; I get the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I ride down the eld in second gear, wahhh, third gear, wahhh, fourth gear wahhh! I feel my heart racing. Before I know it, Im already around the eld. Its 5 of 3, only ve more minutes to go! My heart is racing so fast, I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest! Ring! The bell goes off. I run to homeroom, grab my stuff and get on the bus. Now Im even closer to my wheeler! The bus ride goes by pretty fast because Im with friends. My stop is next. I run off the bus. I throw my stuff to wherever it lands. I pull the key out of my pocket, jump on the wheeler, and take off! Ive nally gotten the adrenaline rush I had been waiting for.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
NEXT PROMPT
Egg. You go outside one day and nd a big, purple egg in your backyard. What happens next? Alternates: General writing; or Photo 9. Whats the story? Due March 1
Jenna Rice/The Sharon Academy
Colorado
BY PHOEBE PLUNKETT Grade 7, Christ the King School I can feel the thick, heavy snow hanging onto my braids as I rush down the mountain in Snowmass, Colorado. I feel the wind biting my red cheeks; the snow is hanging on as I push through it, making the shape of a pizza pie slice. I can feel my heart being warmed by the cold of the wind. It seems to warm up as we are ying down the mountain. As the other people whiz by me, I think of how lucky I am to do something I love, with people I love.
Alone
BY SOPHIA MOORE-SMITH Grade 7, Christ the King School It doesnt seem so long ago When you were my handsome beau So in love, we smiled and laughed Too bad that is in the past But youre gone, Im on the brink Of insanity, alone to think Of us, what we were Even though its all a blur Im not over you, not even close That is not what I can boast But I think I will get through Even though I really miss you
!
Photo 9. Hyde Park, VT, Aug. 1936 Carl Mydans (Library of Congress)

Origins
BY ZOE RIELL Grade 10, Homeschool, Poultney I scraped my mind up off the bottom of that snail-encrusted sea; And my heart, dear heart, Ill always remembersalvaged From the core of that blooming plum tree. My knees and nose, I must confess, Did cost me a pretty dime; For those I bargained with the aging seamstress, Over tea avored with two lemons and a lime. My eyes I dredged from the middle Of the cracked marble jar, Stained by mud but ever-so-smooth; A bargain; a mere ten pounds at the gypsy bazaar! As for my hands, well, there, Im afraid Ill have to withhold some information; But I did promise a tale, I know, so Climb upwards into mountains with substantial glacial striations, Where I plucked my two-lips up; Mulched mushrooms from a patch, I watered and sang and weeded and danced, But abandoned ideas of another prospective batch. I want to know where you came from, you said with eyes gleaming of liquid gold. But I refused to tell you anything more Than that my soul has been already sold. To whom, you might ask? Again, Ill have to decline. Another hint is what you wish for? Ill just say hes the opposite of divine.
THIS WEEK: If only & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts, Dialogue day: Tell a story using only dialogue; and General writing. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
Home
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School A man comes home late from his assignment, hearing the sound of the night train echoing. Just after he walks inside, he places his coat on a hook on the wall beside the front door, and his hat upon the tree stand across from the coat. One, two, three and a half steps forward, he sets his keys down on the dry sink. The keys clink loudly. The man realizes that he has no one to welcome him home. Hes alone. Dust sits on top of surfaces. This man has been away from his home for months, hoping for a welcome home once he returns. As sad as this seems, the man is happy. Hes proud to have been away and yet to be home alone. As night passes into daybreak, this man will be respected by all who know of him. He will be recognized as a warrior, a soldier.
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BAY AND PAUL FOUNDATIONS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Rewind
BY ZANE TENZER Grade 8, Benson Village School If I could rewind time I would reverse what I did in Nam If I hadn't tried to save that child I wouldn't have stepped on that land mine If I could rewind time I would still have my legs I wouldn't have had to go through My wife cheating on me If I could rewind time I wouldn't be all alone I might have a couple kids Maybe grandkids by now If I could rewind time Maybe I'd be rich, maybe I'd be poor Maybe I wouldn't be writing this poem
Unsafe
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy
I walk alone On the street In the dark Scared Ill meet my fate Uncertain doom But now I am safe Home in my room I felt unsafe Dont know why It was silly To fear a wandering eye MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT
Coyote Farrell/Richmond Middle School
Change
BY HILARY DUBOIS Grade 8, Benson Village School Want to go back, back to third grade Back to that Thursday When I fell off my horse, 16 hands tall Rewind...back up On the saddle, tighten the reins Slow down, and make the corner To never have broken My left wrist
Or gone to the hospital No neon pink cast all summer long To have had the guts to go to horse shows Win blue ribbons Be my best at riding And not have to start over From the beginning To learn how to ride all over Not to get scared every time I get on a horse's back To not fear that I could fall again It all goes back to that Thursday If only I could change that
NEXT PROMPT
Eternal night. You wake up one morning and the sun doesnt rise. It doesnt rise the next day either. What do you do? Alternate: Silver lining. When bad things happen, how do you recover? Due Feb. 22
Winter in Vermont
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy Snow-topped mountains Ice-covered roads Scurrying animals Where nobody goes Skiers and boarders As far as the eye can see Up on the mountain Is where I want to be Winter in Vermont Is one of a kind Like nowhere else That you can nd
THIS WEEK: Photo 6

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompt to write about the photo, right, of Mad River Glen or about winter in general. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
Vermont Writes Day

February 7, 2013
Join YWP and Vermont schools for a statewide day of writing! Set aside just 7 minutes on Feb. 7 to write.
Find out more at vermont writesday.org.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

A ski-lift chair
BY LINDSEY STUNTZ Grade 10, Woodstock Union High School The day was cold and windy The sky was cloudy and gray The snow fell down in urries Before the wind rushed it away Some may think its lonely The life of a ski-lift chair But I think nothings better I would much rather be here than there I meet so many new people Every single day We have so many conversations Until they go upon their way Some may think its cold But their presence keeps me warm It allows me to appreciate The beauty of the storm I love everything about it There is nothing more I want Except perhaps for it to be longer Wintertime in Vermont
Special thanks this week to ORTON FAMILY FOUNDATION
Photo 6: Tower 22, Looking East. Mad River Glen Jet Lowe, 2006 (Library of Congress)
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
At the mountain
BY GRACE GILMAN & GRACE STEWART Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School As I venture up the frozen ski slope, I gaze down at the trees. The bare chairs in front of me are covered with glistening ice like clear sequins. I approach the top of the frosted mountain, lifting the ice cold bar. I wonder what will happen when I start to ski. At last, I slither down the mound that ends the chair lift and glide to the right... Adroitly, I swerve by the ice patches that I spot further down the passage. I glance up to the sky and realize that the weather has changed to snow; the snow starts coming down so heavily I cant see. I focus my attention on the path in front of me and pull my goggles down onto my face. The snow plummets from greying sky and my vision blurs. I can barely see the tips of my skis when I come to a shortcut in the woods. The birch trees block some snow, but... right now, I can only see about one yard in front of my skis... I nd an exit out of the woods, and I feel the trail getting more horizontal. I nally arrive at the end of the trail safe and feeling more alive than ever. I swerve to board the lift once more... The chair sweeps me up and I feel myself climbing higher and higher skyward; a sensation of glee washes over me. I will always remember this trip to the mountain.
NEXT PROMPTS
Package. The UPS truck arrives with a huge box addressed to you. Whats inside? Whos it from? Alternate: General writing. Due Feb. 15 Eternal night. You wake up one morning and the sun doesnt rise. It doesnt rise the next day either. What do you do? Alternate: Silver lining. When bad things happen, how do you recover? Due Feb. 22 MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT
Please stop
THIS WEEK: Object

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 21 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompt, Object: An inanimate object comes alive and tells you how it really feels.To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
Vermont Writes Day

February 7, 2013
BY SOPHIA MOORE-SMITH Grade 7, Christ the King School
Students, teachers, writers!

Across VT and NH, people are setting aside just 7 minutes on Feb. 7 to write! Find out more at vermont writesday.org.
Please stop glaring at me I havent done anything wrong Its not my fault your teacher Is so mean he assigned 100 problems For homework Please stop tearing my pages It isnt my fault you Daydreamed in class and Cant gure out what a Diophantine equation is Please stop slamming me on the ground I have no idea why Your computer is so slow but It serves you right for Trying to cheat Please stop glaring at me I dont know what Ive done wrong After all, Im just your Math book
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

YWP is supported by the generosity of foundations, business and individu als who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contrib ute, please go to youngwritersproject. org/support, or mail your donation to YWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burling ton, VT 05401.
Chair to people
BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School New people every hour or so. Rear ends on my seat every day! It crushes me! Scratch marks on my seat! You lean your back on my back! I can never breathe that way! Dont you think that hurts me? You are so inconsiderate! You never, I repeat, never think about my feelings! When you pick me up, you say, Oh my God, this chair is so heavy! Yes, I know Im overweight, but saying that is just so rude! Youre no bean pole either! When you need to get something thats just over your height, you stand on me to get it! And dont even get me started when you tip backwards! You put all of your weight on my back legs! It hurts me more when you fall over, cause you fall on me! So now that youve heard my feelings, think about them every time you sit on me.
THE TURRELL FUND
My lures
BY ADAM STEWART Grade 7, Benson Village School
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Hey Adam, I dont like how you tie me on your shing line and cast me out so a big sh can eat me. Even though I have hooks, sh with teeth can still bite me. Maybe you should jump into the water and let sh bite you and jerk you around and let you bounce off trees and get stuck in weeds and mud. I dont like how I get thrown on the bass boats oor to get cooked by the hot sun. I dont like when I y off the bass boat when you go racing down the lake at 60 mph. Also I dont like when you get mad at me because you dont catch sh on me. Then you throw me into the rod locker and dont touch me again. Maybe you should get mad at yourself when you dont catch sh.
Pencil
BY HILARY DUBOIS Grade 8, Benson Village School
Set our to the wind Emily Aldrich/Grade 7, Mount Abraham Union Middle School
NEXT PROMPT
Three letters. Choose three letters. You can write a poem or a short story, but all words must either start or end with these letters. Alternate: Bottle. Youre walking along the beach and a bottle with a message inside washes up on the shore. What is the message? What do do you do? Due Feb. 1.
Crazy wake-up call

BY KAELEIGH BROYLES Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School BEEP! BEEP! Hey you, yes you, wake up! a voice barked in my room. I came to recognize the call of my alarm clock, so I reached over to turn it off. As I did, that same voice squawked, Do you mind?! Why did you just hit me? At that point, I was scared out of my

mind as I stared at what appeared to be my alarm clock, a time teller with little legs, staring right at me. The high-pitched voice called out, Excuse me! Are you even gonna listen?... Every day Im smacked, thrown across the room, and beaten to the point of almost no repair. What did I ever do to deserve this?... I just wanted to ask for some respect, but I guess thats not gonna happen! ... The next thing I heard was a simple, Kaeleigh B, get up now! Geez, wheres my alarm clock when I need it? Im late!
You grab me viciously, break my lead, Shorten me with the monster, The p word, the pencil sharpener. You make mistakes and then come to me To erase them. You squeeze me too hard, Write your name on me, dent me, Chew on me if youre bored. That doesnt feel the greatest. Lose me all the time. Chuck me randomly in the classroom Squish me in between math books Trade me for pens. Get mad and break me I dont like that. But you bought me. So, sadly Im yours.
Looking for perfect

BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy What is the perfect person? Well, lets see what we know. I think they should be honest And let no meanness show. They never get you mad Or cry or yell or ght. They will always be there; Being perfect, they just might. But perfect we are not. It does not exist. But we can shoot for the stars And see the hit or miss. As for the time right now, Perfect is a dream, No matter how wonderful That some things may seem.
THIS WEEK: Ideal Being & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts. The best writing is selected for publication here and in 21 other newspapers and on VPR.net. This week, we publish responses to the prompts, Ideal being and General writing. More at youngwritersproject.org.
Vermont Writes Day

February 7, 2013
Students, teachers, writers!

Across VT and NH, people are setting aside just 7 minutes on Feb. 7 to write! Find out more at vermont writesday.org.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

BFF
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School In a world where friends become best friends, I sit in silence behind lifes television, watching you walk away from me. The title of best friends doesnt t in the puzzle. One of us holds the wrong piece. The outer layer of our friendship is just a shell. Is it easily broken? I dont want to shatter our friendship, but I cant stay frozen forever. Time as it may be, is struck still on my TV screen. I hold a puzzle piece. While trying to piece this together, your steps grow longer. I hesitate. My words that I speak to you arent heard. Why? Why dont you hear me? I want to break this glass wall that hurts me so. Looking up at the face of the TV, you dont look at me. You dont see me. I throw my hand down at this senseless puzzle and smack it away towards the wall. Im tired of this. The title of best friends doesnt t in the puzzle. One of us holds the wrong piece. The outer layer of our friendship is just a shell. Is it broken this easily? Stupid wall. Its so clear but cloudy at the same time. I pound my st on the wall looking right at you. You cant hear me. You dont see me. Tears form in my eyes as I look down at the oor. Having a best friend shouldnt be this painful. I hate this. I want to change this. I try to talk to you in hopes of you mending this puzzle, and not just listening. You didnt know, did you?
Be yourself
BY LIANA WEISSE Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School

A.D. HENDERSON FOUNDATION
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
What makes someone the most ideal being to me is if theyre funny, fun to be around, and they act themselves around you. To be funny just makes everything else worthwhile, especially if they share the same type of humor as you. I know that my best friend and I share the same type of humor, and we dont take things too seriously. Going out with friends is the best feeling, when you can just have fun, and be yourself. When you are with someone who is fun to be around, its contagious. Being yourself is the best way to be, and the only way to be. I like people who are honest with themselves, and arent trying to be someone theyre not. When you are yourself, everyone else can see you as you really are, and theyll like you all the more. You should try being yourself, because everyone else is taken.
NEXT PROMPT
I like Create a list of things you like. They can be random and unrelated or they can have a progression and tell a story within a story. Alternate: Relief. Describe the moment when you felt the great est sensation of relief from thirst, hunger, sadness, pain or fear.Due Jan. 25
Jenna Rice/ The Sharon Academy
Surrounded
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School I am surrounded by darkness, Surrounded by darkness in a place where no voice can hear the other scream. There are no walls in this place. There is no chair to sit on to wait until light shows. All there is to see is black. How do I get out? I close my eyes to think of color. Even with closed eyes I see day. I open my eyes in hope of color. I am surrounded by light, Surrounded by light in a place where all can hear the other sing. There are no walls, but there is happiness. Colors appear in splotches and blends. Even streams have color running down each rock. I want to stay here. From time to time, I may fall back into sorrow. But if theres a chance to live in full, I will do so.
THIS WEEK: Light/Dark & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Light/Dark: Write about contrasts; and General writing.To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
Clouds
BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School
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KEY BANK
For it has blinded itself with its own evil. Then the light shines through the dark And pushes against it in full force. The darkness recoils, But the light keeps pushing on. BAM! A loud eruption is heard. Everything is still. I see a light. Its the light of victory. The purity of the light diminishes the darkness. Goodness is guided with a light, But evils path will always be cloaked, Cloaked with deception. Good will always win. Darkness doesnt stand a chance.
Blackness of night
I see a light
BY SHANNON DUFFY Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School Colors swirl, The dark and the light clash. The dark side rages with anger and destruction. The light side uses the force of good, Trying to push back. The Earth shakes as this mighty battle takes place. For a moment, the dark envelops the light; The dark thinks its already won. It is powered with bad intentions. It cannot see straight,
White puffy things oating in the sky. Can I sit on them? Can I eat them? What do they taste like? Where do they come from? All these possibilities in my mind, a never-ending list. Ive always dreamed of sitting on them, looking out over the world, seeing my mother and yelling, Hi mom! Laying on them, looking up, seeing my grandpa ying just above me, having a long talk with him, saying everything I wanted to say to him before he left me, left this world. I want to have this cloud take me anywhere. Go visit my cousin in the Philippines! Go to Paris! Go anywhere! But I would miss my life on the ground, miss my mom, miss everybody! So I sit here staring at the clouds, wondering what life would be like living up there on that giant puffy cloud.
BY SOPHIA MOORE-SMITH Grade 7, Christ the King School
I look out the window and see the blackness of night. Its such a contrast from the blinding whiteness of this room theyve locked me in. Everything here is so shiny, so clean, so perfect, I just want to jump out the window and feel the freedom of the night. You might think I would be happy here with their plasteredon smiles and glassy eyes, but under all that perfection is an evil darker than a moonless night. At least out there the night will end, and day will come. But here it is always black.
NEXT PROMPT
Puns. Have fun with a play on words (i.e. cereal number, sell phone, etc.). Try to t in as many puns as you can. Be creative!Alternates: Essential. Whats one thing you abso lutely could not live without? Why?; or I believeStart a piece with the words, I believe. Due Jan. 11
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Liu Brenna/Essex High School
Victorious sleeper
BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School One day when I was very, very young, my family and I played a game of hide and seek. I had no idea where to hide. I thought of all the places. In the bathroom shower? No, too obvious. Under my bed? No, I just hid there. Where could I hide that would be big enough to t me, yet small enough to hide me? Austins closet! It would be perfect! I could even take a blanket and cover myself up. I was going downstairs, walking on my tiptoes to be very quiet. As I was entering his bedroom, I saw an extra blanket. I grabbed it and went to the narrowest part of the closet and covered myself up. I was lying there for what felt like hours. In reality, it was only about ve to 10 minutes. While I was waiting to be found, I heard different sounds. Austin was it and I could hear him going from room to room and nally down the stairs. He walked into the bedroom and right past me, but never thought to look in the closet. I felt pretty awesome that I had outsmarted my big brother. I heard him go out the door. Suddenly I was so tired that I thought I would close my eyes for a little bit. I must have dozed off. All of a sudden, I woke up to my older brother Nate shaking my shoulder. I heard him yell to my mother, I found her! That is when I realized that I must have fallen asleep. Unintentionally, I had won the hide and seek game.
THIS WEEK: Family & General

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Family: Write about a moment or experience with a family member that changed you; or General writing. More at youngwritersproject.org.
Northern winter
BY JACK LIGON Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School In the south, winter is just another normal time of year. The snow doesnt fall, and when it does, it doesnt stay long enough to be seen. Here, in the north, people dont appreciate the winter as much. Many prefer the warm summer and spring, or the colors of autumn. But there is something about winter time, when the snow falls on the ground, everything blends into one white landscape, without imperfections. Everything is hushed, quiet. The sounds of nature stop, pausing to admire the white sheet laid out upon the land. Putting ice to a wound stops the pain that people feel. Putting snow to the Earth stops the pain that it feels. All the pollution, the dirt and the grime are covered up, invisible. All of the land becomes one long, rolling landscape, stretching out as far as the eye can see. The beauty of winter comes from this unity. Everything is joined, all as one. Usually there are many aspects of what we see. It is too complicated. But when snow falls, everything becomes one simple, white sheet. This is why, when a car starts, or a child walks through the snow, it is no longer beautiful. It is separated, and becomes just another kind of weather. Change destroys the beauty, just as with so many other beautiful pieces of nature. As with all that is beautiful, it cannot exist forever. Spring arrives. The snow becomes sludge. The sludge mixes with dirt, and becomes mud. All this beauty now becomes just an ugly mess. Everything becomes separated. Everything becomes too complex. White turns to black. Nature awakens, the numbness abates. Our world becomes harsh and loud once more.
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VERMONT COUNTRY STORE
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Uncles help
BY GARVI JESSO-WHITE Grade 9, Rochester High School A moment that changed my life was standing up in front of my class and all their family members to give a speech at graduation. I was terried... I told my uncle, because I tell him everything. I asked him what he does when he has to talk in front of people because he has to do that all the time in the Marines. He told me to just imagine all of them in their underwear or just look up and dont make eye contact. I took his advice, but he wasnt there. He lives in North Carolina... I knew my uncle was waiting for one of my family members to text him, saying I did well. I looked up and down and above the crowds heads so I didnt really look at them. I did what he told me to do. After the speech I was proud that I did well and he was proud too.
Congratulations to Jenna Rice, a sophomore at The Sharon Academy, whose photo was chosen as Photo of the Week. Jenna says, I took this photo when I went on an exchange trip to Saint-Gaudens, France. I stayed with a family, and one day I couldnt help but notice how beautiful the lighting in the window was. The sun was shining directly behind it so anything I put in the window to photograph became a silhouette. I had quite a bit of fun playing around with this. I eventually decided that I wanted to be in one of the photos, so I put the camera on a tripod and used a self-timer. So the girl in the photo is me.

At the rink
BY KATJA STEUPERT Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School One hour before the game starts. This is the time when my adrenalin starts to pump. The ice rink is where I like to spend most of my time. I like the cool air that nips your nose when you open the doors. The smell is like no other. After doing warm-ups with my team to get the blood owing, we head to the locker room to get dressed and come together as a team. Trying to intimidate the other team, we stay calm and try to do our best. We give 100 percent of our effort every game. When coach comes in the locker room it is silent, and it is time to focus on the game ahead. As he reviews the lines and gives us tips, I go over the plays in my head. After he is done, I buckle my helmet and leave the locker room to play the game I love. As I step on the ice, a chill goes up my spine. The sound of my skates crunching the ice is like music to my ears. A three-minute warm-up and the game begins. I get to do what I love in a place that makes me feel alive and special. Some people call it a rink, but I call it home!
THIS WEEK: Favorite & Photo 4

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week, we publish responses to the prompts, Favorite place: What is the special place where you really like to be?; and Photo 4 (at right). Read more great writing at youngwritersproject.org.
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Photo Prompt 4 Jack Delano, Dummerston, VT, 1941 (Library of Congress)
James
BY HILARY DUBOIS Grade 8, Benson Village School Im James Six years old I live on a big cattle farm Quit school to help Pa My nails are piled high with dirt Face smudged with grime Clothes covered with mud Shoes falling to pieces Big toe hanging out Hands beet red from blisters Haying and raking If Im lucky we might get stew For dinner But most nights its just anything I can rummage up Late winter means sap season Pa makes me go in the woods Put spouts on trees I might chew on the hardened sap Thats glued on the bark Night falls Pitch black Cold out Sneak into the living room To lay by the blazing re Filling my body with warmth When morning hits I do the same thing Day after day Get grungy and grimy Dirty all day But thats me James
Special thanks this week to CHAMPLAIN INVESTMENT PARTNERS
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Place in the woods

BY BARBARA CAREY Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School
My favorite place in the world, the place that is most special to me, where I feel at peace and alive, is a place in the woods right next to my house where theres a river. Well, its more like a stream, but anyway, it comes straight out of the ground. Theres always a noise of the water going down a tiny little waterfall and it makes the best sound that I have ever heard. Its somewhere that only I know about and I like to just sit there and think about stuff. I listen to the water and the woods while Im there. But when I go there it has to be the perfect day, and the perfect day is not the normal kind of day that you think of. This kind of day is the day when you dont feel like doing anything, its when its been raining on and off all day. The sun hasnt been seen since you woke up and everything stays wet the entire day...
Eve Pomazi/Brattleboro Area Middle School
NEXT PROMPTS
Kindness. You have performed an act of kindness. What is it? How does it make you feel? What happens?Alternates: Unsafe. Describe a place or circumstance where you felt unsafe ; or General writing. Due Dec. 21.
Read the ending of this story at youngwritersproject.org/node/73015.
Puns. Have fun with a play on words (i.e. cereal number, sell phone, etc.). Try to t in as many puns as you can. Alternates: Essential. Whats one thing you absolutely could not live without? Why? or I believe...Start a piece with these words, I believe.Due Jan. 11.

Mountain day
BY LEVI TARBELL Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School
THIS WEEK: Winter Tales

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompt, Winter Tales: Tell a narrative about winter in poetry or prose. To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
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PRESENTS
WINTER TALES
Dec. 5-9 FlynnSpace, Burlington
Dont miss this special holiday tradition, which includes a selection of writing from YWPs Winter Tales prompt!
The everlasting mountains crystallize as the brunt of winter approaches. Each branch on each tree is as brittle as ribbon candy in the box. Skiers rush like a raging river trying to conquer the mountain without falter. The harsh winds cut at my face, as I look for an opening in the line of skiers like mom looking for the quickest checkout line at the grocery store. Finally a gap, and I race to reach the solid main trail, gliding like a sh in a lake. I take the longest path to the bottom knowing this is my nal run of the day. The mixture of wet snow and speed makes me hyper like a 6-year-old trick or treating. At the end of the mountain, I settle down by my car, load up my gear, and head home. This is winter living at its best in Vermont.
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YWP is supported by the generosity of foundations, business and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contribute, please go to youngwritersproject.org/support, or mail your donation to YWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.
Killington
BY CAM SLENKER Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School White clouds swirl and engines whir on the textbook drowsy ride to Killington. The thought of breakfast makes my stomach growl just like the wind outside howls. Ahead of me, the peak awaits on this snowy winter break. The lift line is daunting ahead but it promises food and rest to settle my head. Familiar aromas connect with my nose while a friend in the gondola strikes a very odd pose. Into the freezing elements we go, even as the piles of snow grow. Met with many feet of snow, we push through like a herd of buffalo. Putting our bindings on is like a magic act, and falling into the snow cushions our impact. The feeling of pure weightlessness takes over, todays conditions are like a fourleaf clover. But now the day is over.
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Spell of winter
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School During the dead of night in the winter, a lone girl walks with a lantern. Walking away from the village, she stumbles into a forest, white with snow. A moment passes as she stands in an opening in the forest. The opening is in the middle of the forest. On a single rock there was cast a spell. The girl does not know that the rock was charmed. Many rocks are in the forest, but no one knows which rock could be the rock that was cast upon. Long since legend passed between folk; the location of the magic rock was lost in rumor. The girl puts her hands before her face to warm them with her breath. Her hands are blue with the chill of winter, yet she still sees the light in herself, even in the dark. A cold wind blows, taking the dust off the top of the snow. The girl shivers as she watches the snow dust y by. With her back to the rock, a sudden glow behind the girl makes a shadow appear before her. As she slowly turns around to face the light, her eyes hold the feeling of warmth. She smiles as she walks to the warm rock, to heat her cold hands once again. My wish for warmth has come true, she thinks to herself. The night is lit.
Snow adventure
BY JILLIAN FLANDERS Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School Fresh snow is falling And the woods are calling Into the trees I bump The snow falls down in clumps The snow is glistening in the eld ahead I run real fast and jump on my sled The wind so cold I am frozen to the bone I guess its time I just head home
Colds a crime
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy Winter is a dark time of year With blizzards and sickness and death so near The trees grow grey, praying for sun But as always, they get none Your breath catches in your throat Youre still cold in your coat Many things are nice this time Still, I think the colds a crime
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Descent
BY TALIA HUTT VATER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Skis gliding Snow layering Harsh winds forcing Cheeks reddening Feet numbing Trail descending Fear building Legs pumping Effort increasing View appearing All work has paid off
Erin Bundock, Grade 9, Champlain Valley Union High School
NEXT PROMPT
Reection. What is something you wish youd been told when you were ve Jet Lowe (Library of Congress) years old? Alternate: Photo 6. Write about this photo of the single chair at Mad River Glen.
Four-year-old mind
BY LEVI TARBELL Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School I stand at the window, watching the red tail lights disappear. The intensity of the moment makes my heart race. Creak! The worn oak steps shift as gravity draws me down the slender staircase. My damp breath against the chilled glass fogs my vision as I peer at the dusty road. Water starts to drip from my eyes like a leaky faucet. My heart sinks into a mud hole of despair. I cannot help but weep as my mother leaves me, home alone. Will she ever return? This is what is running though my four-year-old mind.
THIS WEEK: Alone & General

Each week Young Writers Project receives hundreds of submissions from students written in response to prompts or as general work. A team of students helps select work for publication in this and 20 other newspa pers. This week, we publish writing in response to the prompts, Alone: I stood at the window, watching the red tail lights disappear... Finish the story; and General writing. More at youngwritersproject.org.
The end
BY AUTUMN HUGHES Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School
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The lonely scorpion

BY CHEYENNE TAYLOR Grade 11, Mill River Union High School The high rock formation cast a shadow over her as she sat on the hard red stone. She watched a lonely scorpion walk about and felt no fear for she felt as alone as him. She thought about how scorpions couldnt hug, their claws and tails wouldnt work for that. She wished she could give the scorpion a hug, because she knew how it felt to be hugless. With a sigh, she got up and walked into the blazing sun, facing the heat of Arizona and calling to the sky for someone to at least wish to hug her.
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PHOTO OF THE WEEK
At the window
BY REBECCA CLARK Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School I stood at the window, watching the red tail lights disappear, Yet the tears on my cheeks were all I could hear. I didnt even notice the wind begin to blow, Because my feelings were so low. I only suddenly noticed the rain, From my staring through the windowpane. I had never been so alone, Even inside my own home.
Jamie Ferguson/Milton High School
I stand at the window, watching the red tail lights disappear from the ambulance. I am all alone now, I think to myself, hoping that the ambulance will come back and theyll tell me my mother is no longer declared dead and is ne. I know it wont happen, but hey, cant a guy dream? I feel a tear on my cheek. My father basically fell off the side of the Earth when I was 4. We havent been able to nd him ever since he left my mother. I dont really remember him. I am 18 years old, so I can take care of myself. Hey, I have sometimes dreamed about being able to be a crazy teenager who has parties every Saturday. You know, the ones where the parents never say anything, and everyone thinks the teens are party animals, but thats not really my kind of thing. I wipe another tear away. I sit at the dining room table and look at the ceiling, thinking of all the fun times I had with my mother. Like the time I rst went to the movies, I insisted on going to an R-rated horror movie. Right when it began, I put my shirt over my head and ran out of the theater. So instead, we sneaked into the room where the new Care Bears movie was and watched that. That was one of the funny times I had with my mom. I sit there with a smile on my face, thinking of all the other great times we had. Even though there is a smile on my face, there are still tears coming down my cheeks. This time I dont wipe them away. I look down at the table, staring at my hands and remember all the times when I was little when she would hold them. She would hold them when I wouldnt go across the street, and when I was scared. I loved my mother and I wish she would walk in the front door, so I can run up and hug her, but I know that wont happen...
To read the ending of this story, go to youngwritersproject.org/node/73572.
Congratulations to Jamie Ferguson, a junior at Milton High School, whose photo of a salamander was chosen as YWPs Photo of the Week. Photographers and artists, send YWP your photos and scanned artwork for publication. Find out more at youngwritersproject.org.
NEXT PROMPT
Object. An inanimate object comes alive and tells you how it really feels. Alternate: Excuse. Create the wildest excuse you can think of for why you didnt do something, why you were so late, why you cant go. It must stretch the imagination yet still remain credible. Due Dec. 7
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The falsehood of gold stars

BY LAUREN PHILLIPS Grade 12, Rutland High School
There is a falsehood in the preconceived notion that grades lead to happiness. The gold stars just turned out to be holographic strips of sticky paper. How could one ever be satised with the fact that they were collecting gold sticky stars instead of inspiration?
THIS WEEK: Photo 3, Fan & General Memories

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Photo 3; Fan: Write a fan letter to someone; and General writing. To read more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
BY JESSE A. SUMNER Grade 12, Rutland High School
They always hang with you, those small glimpses of life that stay with you. Whether they are treasures or haunts of distant days, Appearing when you least expect to change the day. For good or worse. A part of you until the day you die. No choice or say in whether they go or stay.
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Racing mind
BY LAUREN BOLDUC Grade 12, Springeld High School
Remember forever
MAIN STREET LANDING
BY ANNA HARRINGTON Grade 10, Woodstock Union High School
PHOTO PROMPT 3
Dear Grandpa, I would like to say that it has been easy since you left and that my lips form a smile every time I think of you, but I cant. I go through my days straightfaced, acting like nothing is wrong, but every time I think of you, tears ght to break past my mask-like face. Your presence in my life has changed me and the way I look at life. You always made the best of life in good times and bad times. When something had you down you got back out there and fought till you found happiness again; nothing was bad enough to keep you down, you were a ghter. You traveled from place to place and saw beautiful things, something that I believe everyone should do. The world is all around you and I believe you should explore every mountain and city. I have always looked up to you. You always seemed to be a man who knew what he planned to do and stood rm. It is your strength and knowledge that I have always admired. You were so crafty and talented; an idea in your hands could become something amazing. Not many have that skill of being able to take an idea and fulll it to its highest potential. You made me believe that I can do anything. Dreams can become reality as long as I dont give up. You have helped me learn how I should live my life. You will be with me in everything I do and every breath I take. I love and miss you with all my heart. - Your Granddaughter
Karlo Fresl/Essex High School, 2011
What happened?
BY ASHLEY SIGL Grade10, Woodstock Union High School Four years of high school, over and done with. What now? What next? Can anyone say; can anyone know? I thought I was the best, the best linebacker in the state. I was wrong. My whole plan for the next few years revolved around that scholarship. I blew it; one stupid mistake. Why didnt I catch that ball? Was it all the pressure, anxiety? Perhaps I wouldnt have made it in the big leagues. One play! Thats all it took, and I blew my future. My bright, gleam-
ing, happy, rich future. I would have been off to some college, having the best training. I would have slipped into the majors with ease. I would have been living my lifelong dream, football. Thats all over now. Its gone, everything. My parents disappointed, my coaches frustrated, and myself angered ... To read the ending of
this story, go to youngwritersproject.org/ node/72602.
NEXT PROMPT
If only... Write about a situation in which you wish you had done things differently. Alternates: Dialogue day. Tell a story using only dialogue; or General writing in any genre. Due Nov. 30
The moon seems brighter when the stars come out. Lying on the lawn thinking to myself, whats life all about? Our economy struggling, Obama and the bailout. Younger generations, lost hope, their minds full of doubt. The worlds a funny place. There are some awesome people, and some you might call a basket-case. Time never slows down, speeding around at a fast pace. Its up to each and every one of us to stare fate in the face, Give 100 percent, and jump into the race. So what, you may get some scratches and some bruises, But youre putting yourself out there while others spit out their excuses. Living the life that nobody but you chooses. The haters are the only team that loses. Some will encourage your dreams; others tell you that youll never make it. Got to fully commit, Be ready to block those swinging ready to hit, Your real friends will be there lickety-split. No place to hide anymore. Learn to not count too much on others so there are less lies to fall for. Reality is like a great war. Some faith is the only thing that we can ask for. The stars are what we shoot to explore. Find something important to stand for. When there is lack of support, you question what all the hard work is for. Its pointless to worry about the past and what happened before. Take the steps to open opportunitys door.
Serenity above
BY SHEA BUTLER Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School I step out the door on an autumn afternoon, and before I have a chance to think, I oat. I feel weightless as I soar over the New Hampshire countryside. All I can see is the colorful blur of treetops like the brush strokes in a watercolor painting. As I rise, I meander through the sky with the clouds like eeting thoughts wandering through my mind. The white, moist puffs melt in my hand, reminding me of the cotton candy mounds at the fair. A breeze blows through the neverending sunset. The colors gleam like a diamond reecting in sunlight. The only noise is the wind whistling; all is quiet and serene.
THIS WEEK: Flying

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week, we publish work in response to the prompt, Flying: You are ying blissfully and effortlessly over the countryside. What do you see and feel? Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
Alive
BY VAL GIESEY Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School Far below, I can see the ground with windy dirt roads baking in the noonday sun, like a snake basking on the rocks. The trees cast outstretched shadows, like a dark place in a bright world while I glide high above in the sky. The clouds shade my view temporarily, and I dive through a misty, cool wisp of vapor. I feel alive, and the feeling is grand.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runsyoungwritersproject.org and the Schools Project, a comprehensive online class room and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go toywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

NEXT PROMPTS
Light/Darkness. Use the idea of extreme contrast in any way youd like, such as day vs. night, good vs. evil. Create a story or poem that centers on extreme contrast. Alternate: Superpower. You are granted superpowers: What superpower would you pick and why? Imagine an anecdote of you using that superpower. Due Nov. 16 Ideal being. What do you think makes someone the ideal person? What is the most important characteristic that a person must have? Alternates: Change. Anna Mechler/Essex High School Write to the president of a company, real or ctional, about a product that you think must be changed; or Photo 5. Write about the photo above. Due Nov. 23

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I take ight
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy As I y across the countryside I open my eyes to see. Instantly my fear of heights Calmly leaves my body. The grass is green and owing. No trafc light in sight. No more bustle of the city. When I do take ight, It is very peaceful If Im not afraid. Flying over the countryside I could spend my days.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Flying for the rst time

BY MEGAN CHAPIN Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Gazing through the small window as large elds of corn fade away, I feel excited as I y over the countryside for the rst time. As we are soaring along, mountains grow smaller as the plane glides effortlessly forward. A gleaming red barn sits on the ground many feet below. I lean my chair back, trying to relax. I then put the seat into a straight position once again. Staring out the window, I see the airport runway as we begin to land.
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Danielle Kracum, Rutland High School
Congratulations to Danielle Kracum, a senior at Rutland High School, whose photo was chosen as YWPs Photo of the Week. Photographers and artists, send YWP your photos and scanned artwork for publication. Find out more at youngwritersproject.org!

Fright
BY DANIELLE KRACUM Grade 12, Rutland High School
THIS WEEK: Haunted & General

ach week, Young Writers Project receives several hun dred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts. The best writing is selected for publication here and in 20 other newspapers and on VPR.net. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Haunted. You enter an abandoned house and things turn scary; and General writing. Go to youngwritersproject. org to nd out more.
Nightmare
BY CHEYENNE TAYLOR Grade 11, Mill River Union High School Silence, nothing was heard but the tiny crackle of the burning candle and her short gasps of breath. The room had a dark ominous light that kept her mind in the nightmare she was trying to get away from. Trapped. In a tower high above the world she could hear scurrying but could see nothing, for the only light was a blood-red candle with a black ame. Whispers in her head getting louder and louder, the room silent, but everything was so loud. Screams, blood curdling screams echoed through the surrounding forest. Scream, one single scream not even ten feet away. She could still hear scurrying everywhere and when a hand reached out and touched her, she heard a scream, but it was her own.
Passed through the old legends into my ears I hear a tale, A tale of great fright, a tale of great might. An old abandoned house near the outskirts of town stands. Not many go inside, but even fewer come out. Whoever goes inside the house gets lost. Friends are separated. Anyone who nds the hidden door is never found again. When at least one human escapes, shock takes her soul. Never to live happily the same again. A group of teens sneaks its way into the abandoned house. One is lost in the beginning just after entering. Others dont notice until they split into pairs to nd the mysterious hidden door. The one who disappears at the beginning nds the door. The closest person hears her friend shriek in terror. All run toward the loud voice. They all nd one lying on the oor dead. Dead, but cold. The youngest of the group moves his ashlight to the still form. Blood on the oor reects the light back into his eyes. The blood is shiny, but not wet? This isnt their missing friend. If this isnt him, then who lies before the teens? The kids turn and run back for the entrance. A long hallway extends. The door to freedom from this muddle slowly closes. A girl trips on the oorboards. A boy turns around, and a hand is extended to help her, but she isnt there. Shes gone. Just like the others. Stunned at the sight of this, his countenance shows fear, Fear of falling behind, and dwindling to his death. He turns his body as quickly as he can to escape this madhouse. A sheer face appears in front of him, and he tumbles down to the oor. Flabbergasted as he is, he blacks out. Passed through the old legends into my ears, I hear a tale, A tale of great fright, a tale of great might. The fear within the storytellers passes on to the ears of those with innocence and continues the fable of that spine-chilling house.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences.YWP runs youngwritersproject.org and the Schools Project, a comprehensive online class room and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go toywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

YWP is supported by the gen erosity of foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contribute, please go to youngwritersproject.org/support , or mail your donation toYWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401. Special thanks this week to
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PHOTO OF THE WEEK
Seasons change
BY ALISON DEROY Grade 12, Poultney High School As fall approaches, The leaves begin to change. The hint of the cold will never get old. A rush of wind blows my hair. The smell of re in the air. Fall is coming by the look of the trees. Winter is near. Soon the grass will begin to freeze. Then the season will clear.
Congratulations to Kevin Huang, a freshman at Burlington High School, whose photo was chosen as YWPs Photo of the Week. Photographers and artists, send YWP your photos and scanned artwork for publication. Go to youngwritersproject. org, create a blog, upload your work, choose Photo Submission as the genre, click Yes for the Newspaper Series, and include a high resolution version of your work as a le attachment.
YWP IS ON VPR.NET EVERY WEEK! MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

Light/Darkness. Use the idea of extreme contrast in any way youd like, such as day vs. night, good vs. evil. Create a story or poem that centers on extreme contrast. Alternate: Superpower. You are granted superpowers: What superpower would you pick and why? Imagine an anecdote of you using that superpower. Due Nov. 16
NEXT PROMPT
My destination
BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy I look across the meadow Taking in the scene Ive been driving for hours It makes me want to scream I cant believe I made it Because not long ago I didnt think Id make it But little did I know If I do my best Ill be set for life I made my true potential At my destination Ive arrived
THIS WEEK: Photo prompt 2 & Observer

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts. The best writing is selected for publication here and in 20 other newspapers and on VPR.net. This week, we publish responses to the prompts, Photo 2; and Observer: You witness something frightening or wrong. What is your response? To read more, go toyoungwritersproject.org .
Escaping the city

BY REBECCA CLARK Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School Away from the city, away from my house, Yet even out here, Im as small as a mouse. The sky is so blue, But still gives me no clue, As to how we are, Every one of us, driving a car. This sign gives me chills, But leads me to no thrills. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, We humans are still there.
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Nightmare at 4
BY ZOE RIELL Grade 9, Homeschool, Poultney Zoe, come here! I wander into our TV-room that could very well be a closet with no doors. Wire bins of art supplies, board games I only play with myself, and the worn red binder with math written on it in Sharpie even though it holds play-dough recipes, swamp the walls and surround our 13.5inch TV, which is on. Thats weird Mommy says that the TV cant go on until after dinner, and only then if I ate my food and put my dish in the dishwasher. Mommy is watching a movie two buildings are burning, and blue banners stream across the screen with words on them that I cant read and dont want to. I dont like this movie Id rather watch Madeline and the Bad Hat. Mommy gets up and snags the phone, startling me. She stares at the buttons and asks me what Daddys cell phone number is. I dont know and dont care. Daddy will be home tonight from work, and hell bring Lea and me NutterButters, like he always does. Hell be home in a few hours why does she want to call him? Mommy dials a number and I hear it ringing faintly, I hear Daddys voice on the speaker, saying hello, mean-like, like when hes busy and you shouldnt pester him, Zoe; hes working. Mommy starts talking loudly too loudly and Daddy says something before she can nish. Mommy doesnt take her eyes off of the TV, leaning on the big brown armchair with her free hand while she tells me to stay put for a sec, sweetie. In the movie, the buildings burn.
Country meadow
BY MEGAN CHAPIN Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Car brakes screeching Tourists halting Cameras ashing Mountains hovering Clouds oating Maples reddening Grass yellowing Autumn arriving Silent meadow in the countryside
PHOTO PROMPT 2
NEXT PROMPT
Family. Write about a moment or experience with a family member that changed you. Alternate: Photo 4. This boy has something to say. What is it? Due Nov. 9
Becca LeBlanc/Essex High School, 2011
Beyond the photo

BY OLIVIA BERNSTEIN Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School Sign tilting Rust developing Prairie grass swaying Breeze whistling Sky darkening Clouds vanishing Mountains molding Leaves coloring Autumn arrives
Living prairie
BY LEVI TARBELL Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School Wheat owing Clouds hovering Trees shifting Hawks dive-bombing Snakes prowling Mice scurrying The prairie is alive
Jack Delano, Dummerston, VT, 1941 (Library of Congress)
Live to inspire
BY JESSE A. SUMNER Grade 12, Rutland High School
THIS WEEK: Elevator & General writing

Each week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of readers, we select the best for publi cation here and in 20 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompts,Elevator: Youre stuck in an elevator with a stranger. What happens?and General writing. Read more at youngwritersproject.org.
Suspended in air
BY HOPE BRADLEY Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School
Every day I see the worst of humanity. Blood, hate and tears, people living with fears. Not wanting to make a stand, falling grains of sand. Money controls all, morality takes a fall. Corruption is the norm for our society to form. Those of us that remain, untainted by the stain, Live to inspire; the need is dire To change society so everyone will see. That is what I say is true about today.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runs youngwritersproject. org and The Schools Project, a comprehensive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at 802-324-9537.
THANKS FROM YWP

YWP is supported by the gen erosity of foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. If you would like to contribute, please go to youngwritersproject.org/support, or mail your donation toYWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.
Special thanks this week to JANE B. COOK CHARITABLE TRUSTS
Escape
BY CAM SLENKER Grade 8, Barstow Memorial School There is only me and a complete stranger suspended in space three stories above the ground where people mill around like ants at a picnic. This glass box that is an elevator has recently been installed here at the Destiny USA mall in Syracuse, N.Y. They have recently created an entirely new wing that has made this the biggest eco-friendly mall in America. There are plants and trees around as if it were a rain forest. The elevators are surrounded by vines and other plants to give the rider a relaxed and mystical feeling. The bottom has nothing covering it but the hopefully strong glass, giving the feeling that you are ying. This is true for all except me as I take my trip to the top story...The lift screeches to a crashing halt...
Read the ending of this story at http://youngwritersproject.org/node/71570
CELEBRATION OF WRITING OCT. 27

Every year, Young Writers Project publishes an anthology of the years best student writing and photos. On Oct. 27, we will toast the publication of Anthology 4 with a day of celebration and writing workshops in partnership with the Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier. Special guests this year include entertainer Rusty DeWees, author Katherine Paterson and the student writers and photographers who are featured in the anthology! To register for workshops and to nd out more, go to youngwritersproject.org.
NEXT PROMPT
PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Levi Beavin/Main Street Middle School
Winter Tales. Tell a narrative about winter in short, descriptive poetry or prose. The best will be selected for pre sentation by the Vermont Stage Compa ny at its annual Winter Tales production at FlynnSpace in Burlington (Dec. 5-9, 2012). Alternate: Favorite place. What is the special place where you really like to be, where you feel most alive? Imag ine yourself there and tell a story about it. Due Nov. 2
Congratulations to Levi Beavin, an eighth grade student at Main Street Middle School in Montpelier, whose photo was chosen as YWPs Photo of the Week. Photographers and artists, send YWP your photos and scanned artwork for publication. Go to youngwritersproject.org, create a blog, upload your work, choose Photo Submission as the genre, click Yes for the Newspaper Series, and include a high resolution version of your work as a le attachment.
On a mildly warm morning, between two great buildings, one brick and one marble, we stood and awaited our nice hotel in Alexandria, Virginia. My family consists of a bouncy, energetic 8-year-old little sister with a short brown haircut, a wonderful, incredibly intelligent brother with severe autism the age of 10 with the same looks. My father, a generous man, had set up a perfect situation in which we would stay a few days near Washington, D.C., seeing all of the historical sites from our own viewpoints. My mother was thrilled with this idea. It was all peaches and cream until the worst happened. Having an energetic brother is a doozy. In the barely quantiable fraction of an eye blink that I took, the space he occupied was empty. In a place so unfamiliar, it was overwhelming and my brother could be absolutely anywhere. My family, now at four-fths of its capacity, recognized that he had disappeared into thin air. In all situations like this, we split up; my father checked the brick hotel along with my bouncy sister. My mother checked the roundabout between the two buildings embedded with ora, and I checked the marble building, which, to my surprise, was unlocked. I slid the great glass doors aside and assessed my situation. On the inside, it was beautiful; a sort of building for big business. However, nobody was there! Knowing my brother frequents elevators, I nervously stepped over to the button and gave it a push. The elevator was lined with some sort of cushion pad, ripped at the edges. It was carpeted, and looked like a vertical fall to the death. Having a panic attack problem, I put it aside and I knew what I needed to do: nd my brother and get the heck out. I nervously stepped in and rode up, searching all of the vast halls for that boy, when a young man my age entered. Hello, I said, a bit grim from my unsuccessful search. Going up? Yes, he said, to oor seven. I pushed the button and also pressed button eight beside it, knowing my brother loves top oors. The rickety doors closed and the elevator shook before slowly rising. However, something did not seem right. The elevator shuddered to a stop, and the oor indicator, between oors six and seven shut off along with the power...
Read the ending of this story at http://youngwritersproject.org/node/71599
My rst ride
BY EMILY RACHEK Grade 7, Christ the King School
THIS WEEK: Remember

ach week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire. With the help of a team of students, we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers. This week we publish work in response to the prompt, Remember: Write about your earliest memory. More at youngwritersproject.org.
YWP NEWS
FRIDAY NIGHT SLAM
Join your fellow poets on Friday, Oct. 19, 7-8:30 p.m., and slam your best work at Young Writers Project headquarters, 12 North St., Burling ton. Arrive by 6:45 p.m. if you want to slam. Free and open to all ages.
I feel my dads hand on my bike seat, giving me balance. Nerves take over my thoughts, but my excitement takes priority. I just recently received a brand new bike that is as red as re. I am ready to explore like a big kid on my bike. As I slowly pedal, my dad is guiding me. I am nervous, but the cool breeze, as calming as a lullaby, makes me more relaxed. After some time, my dad lets go of the seat, and I am on my own, a little wobbly. As I continue to ride, the breeze continues to calm me down. As I reach the end of my street, a smile spreads across my face because I ofcially learned how to ride my bike.
CELEBRATION OF WRITING
PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Photographers and artists, send YWP your photos and scanned artwork for publication. Log in to youngwritersproject.org, create a blog, upload your work, choose Photo Submission as the genre, click Yes for the Newspaper Series, and include a high resolution version of your work as a le attachment.
Every year, YWP publishes an anthology of the years best student writing and photos. On Oct. 27, we will toast the publication of Anthol ogy 4 with a day of celebration and writing workshops in partnership with the Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier.
Bronx Zoo
BY CODIE CROSS Grade 4, Shrewsbury Mountain School
Lydia Smith/Grade 9, Homeschool, Charlotte
ABOUT THE PROJECT

YWP is an independent nonprot that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences. YWP runs youngwritersproject.organd the Schools Project, a comprehensive on line classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop their writing and digital literacy skills. To learn more, go to ywpschools.net or contact YWP at (802) 324-9537.
You wouldnt believe what I did at the Bronx Zoo in New York City! We walked along curvy paths and up a few hills to get to the King of the Jungles home. When I saw the golden lion, it gave a colossal roar. The roar was so loud my heart beat fast. After I relaxed, I went and saw the snake that had escaped a year before. When they found it, it was by the lions cage. The greenish snake was long and enormous. It was taller than me! The snake gave a monstrous hissing sound, and it jumped at me! I screamed in fear. Then I left because I had enough of that slinky snake. I went to see the enormous gorilla. The gorilla smelled nasty! All I could think of when I smelled him was garbage. After that, I went and got the sweetest smelling chocolate ice cream. It tasted like joy. I left the zoo with my grandmother, feeling a little down. I didnt want to leave, but I had to go home. I told my grandmother that my time at the zoo was the most wonderful time I could remember. I couldnt wait to return again.
Hunting memory
BY HILARY DUBOIS Grade 8, Benson Village School Hunting with Dad and Rachael In his big new pine tree stand Sat for hours Getting bored out of my brains Nothing in sight Except a few birds in the background By late night Going back home Climbing down the long wooden ladder Walking on the crunchy branches Riding a grumbling red four-wheeler The air was crisp Scared of what was in the dark Coy dogs and bears In seconds Green eyes zoomed past us A shiver went down my back Not knowing what it was Clinging to Rachael tightly Wondering what it was Vivid green scary almond-shaped eyes I hung on tight Still scared of what I saw Even though it was just a deer Always having a blast going hunting With my Dad and sister Rachael
Disney magic
BY MEGAN CHAPIN Grade 5, Shrewsbury Mountain School Oversized characters bouncing around the happiest place on Earth. Cinderellas castle glowing every color of the rainbow after dusk. Standing in Magic Kingdom watching as reworks explode over the enchanted park. One full week in the paradise of Disney World! I remember traveling for 24 hours with massive anticipation of what was awaiting me in Orlando, Florida. I was lled with excitement for the rides and delicious food, but also with fear. I was scared and nervous because I knew there would be a crowd of people wanting to ride all the same rides as me. As we got closer, I started bouncing in my seat because I couldnt control my eagerness to get to Disney World. Then I saw it, the colossal arch advertising the entrance to Disney World. We drove through the arch and entered paradise. We arrived at our hotel inside the park. I was so impatient to see all ve parks of Disney. When it was time for bed, my nerves were bouncing. I couldnt get comfortable. I kept rolling and tossing. Finally, morning came. Gleaming with excitement, I woke up and got ready for our rst park: Magic Kingdom!
THANKS FROM YWP

AMY E. TARRANT FOUNDATION
NEXT PROMPTS
Winter Tales. Tell a narrative about winter. The best will be presented by the Vermont Stage Company at Winter Tales at FlynnSpace in Burlington (Dec. 5-9, 2012). Alternate: Favorite place. What is the special place where you really like to be? Imagine yourself there and tell a story about it. Due Nov. 2
YWP IS ON VPR.NET EVERY WEEK! MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

Buttermilk braids
BY ZOE RIELL Grade 9, Homeschool, Poultney I wished for a girl with buttermilk braids, A squiggle of sunshine and mothers pearl cream. She was nesting in my secret windowbox, Nursing a rag doll of sunset silk. I dreamed I fed her corn-spun moonshine; Her teeth were ice cube straight when she laughed. I planned for a girl with buttermilk braids, A tangle of stunning galaxy hearts and plain earthen souls. She was gathered in my pencil-box, Growing eyes like pools of solid lithium. I aspired to clothe her in the lily-scented tides; Her skin was carbon-clear as she laughed. I set a snare for a girl with buttermilk braids, A net of entrusted encounters and bejeweled bewitchments. She was stretched inside my lighted cupboards, Seeping gossamer gowns colored like twilight lily pads. I begged her to still her frantic snow-bone struggles; Her tears were cold oxygen cobalt when she died. I remembered a girl with buttermilk braids, The red phosphorus burn on the oak-andcherry oor where she fell. I enclosed her in a burnt-sparrow-feather cofn, Sprinkling excess pine needles to oat among the lilies. I glimpsed that her hair had darkened in death, a shade; Her blood-drops were dead rubies when I uncoiled the elderberry syrup formation. Stone cold.
THIS WEEK: Photo prompt 1 & General writing

ach week, Young Writers Project receives several hun dred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts. The best writing is selected for publication here and in 20 other newspapers and on VPR.net. This week, we publish work in response to the prompts, Photo 1 and General writing. Go toyoungwritersproject.org to nd out more.
NEXT PROMPTS
Alone. Write a piece that begins with the following line:I stood at the window, watching the red tail lights disappear... Alternate: Listen. Pick a moment in the hall at school, in the general store, any where and listen. Choose the most interesting conversation you hear and base a story on it.Due Oct. 26 Winter Tales.Tell a narrative about winter in short, descriptive poetry or prose. The best will be selected for presentation by the Vermont Stage Company at its annual Winter Tales production at FlynnSpace in Burlington (Dec. 5-9, 2012). Alternate: Favorite place. What is the special place where you really like to be, where you feel most alive? Imagine yourself there and tell a story about it.Due Nov. 2
ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

UNITED WAY OF CHITTENDEN COUNTY
PHOTO PROMPT 1
YWP NEWS
BRATTLEBORO LITERARY FESTIVAL
YWP presents Millennials on Stage (the Brattleboroedition) at the festival. Dont miss the next gen eration of great writers on Saturday, Oct. 13 at 1:15 p.m. in the HookerDunham Theater, 139 Main Street, Brattleboro.
YWP POETRY SLAM

Join your fellow poets on Friday, Oct. 19, 7-8:30 p.m. and slam your best work at Young Writers Project headquarters, 12 North St., Burling ton! Arrive by 6:45 p.m. to get on the list!
Heart in the sand

BY HEATHER MCMANUS Grade 9, Mount St. Joseph Academy I sit and soak up all the sun Waiting to begin the fun The waves are only seconds apart I pray that they wont wash away my heart Not the heart in my chest but in the sand I draw with my ngers as fast as I can The waves crash upon the shore And my heart is no more
Caitria Sands/Essex High School
ANTHOLOGY CELEBRATION
Tracing hearts
BY SAMANTHA VAN DE VEN Grade 10, Woodstock High School She spent the day Tracing hearts in the sand, Looking out at the ocean, Wondering what her life had planned. Her hair blew in the wind As she stared out at the sea;
Her future, what she would do, Was all a mystery. Her shadow was someone She couldnt recognize. For too long she had been seeing Through closed eyes. Her ngers traced hearts In the soft, ne grains. She would chase her dreams, Having so little to lose and so much to gain.
Every year, YWP publishes an anthology of the years best student writing and photos. On Oct. 27, we will toast the publication of Anthol ogy 4 with a day of celebration and writing workshops in partnership with the Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier.

Vines
BY CHEYENNE TAYLOR Grade 10, Mills River Union High School It irks her when she sees the ignorance that blooms around her like May owers after April showers as she is stuck in a forever growing eld without a sickle at hand nor any way to get out of the tangle. Not even the vexed air that she radiates can kill off the tangled mass of ignorant vines surrounding her and isolating her from all contact. A challenge arises to ght the world on her own without any backup to watch her back. And from an aerial view, the vines spell out, Welcome to life.
THIS WEEK: General writing

ach week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts and we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers and on VPR.net. Read more at youngwritersproject.org, a safe, civil online community of young writers.
Grandfathers land
BY ALEXIS KLEEFISCH Grade 8, Christ the King School Naturally, I wanted to go running in my new pair of running shoes. So I set off on my journey, after changing and spraying bug spray. The bugs are nasty out here...usually there are none at home. One foot in front of the other, I regulate my breathing before it gets out of hand. In, four steps... out, four steps. Heading down the trail, its much easier than I thought it would be. A lot more enjoyable. The scenery is impeccable; Ive always wanted to explore my grandfathers property. Now is my chance. The path leads me to a little overhang of trees, a hallway of sorts for the forest. It gets dark right away, but soon I am led to a sunny meadow, lled with wheat and wildowers and evergreen trees. God, I love this place, even if it is buggy. Back home, I cant nd a place like this... The pattern repeats a couple of times, rst by going through another hallway, and being led to another meadow. The next hallway has inexplicable amounts of blackberry bushes. I check for the berries, and snatch the ones the deer have left. They taste sweet, sweeter than any at the store, even if they are tiny. Eventually, I decide to keep going. Dodging the prickle bushes ahead, I continue to go down the hallway until I spot light at the end. A little turn around the corner, and my mouth is hanging wide open.
YWP ANTHOLOGY CELEBRATION OCT. 27

Every year, YWP publishes an anthology of the years best student writing and photos. On Oct. 27, we will toast the publication of Anthology 4 with a day of celebration and writing workshops in partnership with the Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier. Included this year are Rutland writer Tessie McDonnell and photographer Coyote Farrell, below. More details at youngwritersproject. org.
Theres no way around it

BY TESSIE MCDONNELL Grade 10, Rutland High School (2011-12) Its simple but its not. The way her curls bounce in her wake, and she lets out carefree shrills of girlish excitement, gives me the most twisted emotions. The way her parents are tucked away all day, getting caught up on sleep or absorbed into the monitor of their computer, leaves her needing attention. Needing love. I want to wash her face with warm water, and give her a princess tiara, but that wont ll her empty void thats only going to get larger as she matures. Its simple but its not. The way that she has low expectations. She expects to be happy, to let her own laughter nourish her soul, to let the sun that beats down through the Coyote Farrell/Richmond Middle School, 2011 pine trees in her backyard allow a smile to come across her face. She expects a hug a day, and turns to me. I pick her up and spin her around, feeling full to the brim with love, by the animated excitement in her eyes. Its simple but its not. The way that its only going to get worse over time. As she ages more, shes going to need more complex things. Shes going to need a mom to teach her about her body, about boys, and about how everything can be so dangerous. Shes going to need a father to scoop her up in his arms at the end of a long school day, and when the man in her life leaves her hanging. I can see myself in her eyes. And all I can do is love her to pieces, and play airplanes with her.
NEXT PROMPTS
Haunted. You and your friends are exploring an old, abandoned house when things suddenly turn scary. What happens? Alternates: Candidate. Write a short, catchy political ad for yourself. Whether youre running for President of the United States or local ofce, convince voters to vote for you!; or General writing in any genre. Due Oct. 12 Flying. You are ying blissfully and effortlessly over the countryside. What do you see and feel? Alternates: Fan. Write a fan letter to someone. It can be a celebrity, a loved one, an 18th century poet anyone; or Photo 3. What happened here? Or what is about to happen? Due Oct. 19
ABOUT THE PROJECT

Young Writers Project is an inde pendent nonprot that engages stu dents to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences through the Newspaper Series (and youngwritersproject.org ) and the Schools Project ( ywpschools. net).
Photo 3 Karlo Fresl/Essex High School 2011
THANK YOU YWP is supported by this news paper, foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. To help us help young writers, please go toyoungwritersproject.org/support,or mail a donation to YWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.
Special thanks this week to Bay and Paul Foundations

YWP AND VPR

PRESENT MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE
Meet the next generation of great writers from Young Writers Project at the Burlington Book Festival, Saturday, Sept. 22 at 2 p.m. at the Film House, Main Street Landing in Burlington. If you cant make it to the festival, tune in to VPR to hear a recording of the young writers, including Zoe Riell of Poultney, below.
YWP NEWS
ach week, Young Writers Project receives several hundred submissions from students in Vermont and New Hampshire in response to writing prompts and we select the best for publication here and in 20 other newspapers in Vermont and New Hampshire and on VPR.net. Read more at youngwritersproject.org, a safe, civil online community of young writers.
BRATTLEBORO LITERARY FESTIVAL!

Young Writers Project is excited to be part of this three-day literary extravaganza, Oct. 12-14! Writ ers from K to 12 are encouraged to send us best work to be selected for presentation at the festival on Friday, Oct. 12 at 7 p.m. Use keyword, BLF. Watch youngwritersproject.org for more details.
Woman in silver shoes

BY ZOE RIELL Homeschool, Poultney The woman in silver shoes is dancing on her own again. The music is low, like the ceiling of the attic. Her heels are high, to stiffen her spine. Downstairs, the cat cries because she has left the sink running: Water oods the kitchen. The woman in silver shoes is eating on her own again. The food is cold, like the air in the house. The meal is over-salted, to remind her of the bitterness of life. Upstairs, the rain pounds on the roof and leaks through the holes: Water saturates her pillow. The woman in silver shoes is crying on her own again. The tears are salty, like the food she just ate. Her despair is quiet, to keep the silence intact. Downstairs, the freezer stops working: Melted ice drips onto the cat, who yowls. The woman in silver shoes is sleeping on her own again. Her bed is lonely, like her mother always said it would be. Her dreams are nostalgic, to remind her of what she had. Upstairs, the air conditioner in the attic shudders to a halt: The resulting leakage of coolant disturbs the bats, who screech. The woman in silver shoes is dying on her own again. Her death is peaceful, like she planned it to be. Her dreams shift from that of the living to the dead. Downstairs, her cat cries. She left the sink running again.
PHOTO OF THE WEEK
YWP ANTHOLOGY CELEBRATION OCT. 27

Every year, Young Writers Project publishes an anthology of the years best student writing and photos. On Saturday, Oct. 27, we will toast the publication of Anthology 4 with a day of celebration and writing workshops in partnership with the Vermont College of Fine Arts in Montpelier. For more details, go to youngwritersproject.org.
ABOUT THE PROJECT

Kevin Huang, Burlington High School
Calling all artists and photographers! Send us your photos and scanned artwork for publication. Go to youngwritersproject.org, create a blog, upload your work, choose Images as the genre, click Yes for the Newspaper Series, ll out the information boxes and Save! The best work will be published in this and 20 other newspapers in Vermont and New Hampshire!
NEXT PROMPTS
Elevator. Youre stuck in an elevator with a stranger. Create a short story, shaped primarily with dialogue, about your interaction with this person who is either annoying, funny or terried. Alternate: Habit. Whats the worst habit youre willing to admit to? Write about the great lengths you go to, to break this habit. Due Sept. 28 Awesome. Write a mini-story (maximum three paragraphs) without adjectives. Find the perfect noun for everything in the story. Alternates: Observer. You witness something frightening or wrong. Dont describe the scene; focus on your own response; or Photo 2. Write about this photo. Due Oct. 5 Go to youngwritersproject.org today and start writing for publication in this and 20 other newspapers and VPR.net!
Young Writers Project is an inde pendent nonprot that engages stu dents to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences through the Newspaper Series (and youngwritersproject. org) and the Schools Project ( ywpschools.net), a comprehensive online classroom and training program that works with teachers to help students develop writing and digital literacy skills.
THANK YOU
FOR YOUR SUPPORT YWP is supported by this news paper, foundations, businesses and individuals who recognize the power and value of writing. To help us help young writers, please go toyoungwritersproject.org/support,or mail a donation to YWP, 12 North St., Suite 8, Burlington, VT 05401.
Photo 2 Becca LeBlanc/Essex High School 2011
Special thanks this week to A.D. Henderson Foundation

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Three wishes

THIS WEEK: Wishes & Vacation

BY LEXI BEAUREGARD Grade 8, Benson Village School

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to BAY AND PAUL FOUNDATIONS

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Melissa Stewart/Essex High School

MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

THIS WEEK: Wishes & Fairy tale

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Kevin Huang/Burlington High School

MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE IN BURLINGTON AND BRATTLEBORO!

THIS WEEK: Music & General

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to GREEN MOUNTAIN COFFEE ROASTERS

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Isabella Byrne/The Sharon Academy

MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE

MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

THIS WEEK: Dislike & General

MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to

CHAMPLAIN INVESTMENT PARTNERS

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Josh Kenyon/Essex High School

THIS WEEK: Farm Project winners

Dusty Creek Farm

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to

Callista Bushee and Shatter at Seward Farm, East Wallingford

VERMONT COMMUNITY FOUNDATION

Kelsey Eddy at her familys farm in Wallingford

MILLENNIAL WRITERS ON STAGE

Keep the penny?

THIS WEEK: News, 6 words, General

THE FARM PROJECT

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Special thanks this week to

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

The whitebreasted nuthatch

Birds eye view

MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

THIS WEEK: 35 & Strength

THE FARM PROJECT

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

Watch youngwritersproject.org for the six winners to be announced soon!

Special thanks this week to

PHOTO OF THE WEEK

Nate Ertle/Essex High School

MORE GREAT STUDENT WRITING AT

THIS WEEK: Six words

ABOUT THE PROJECT

THANKS FROM YWP

BY HANNAH FARRELL Grade 6, Shrewsbury Mountain School