Join us for a day of festivities celebrating the creativity of the over 400 young and adult writers that took part in the 2013 Idaho Writing Camps and Workshops.
Come and share your work at an open mic, take a workshop, and pick up a copy of your anthology!
Anthology Release Party Schedule:
12pm WELCOME and Anthology Pick Up
1 pm Young Writers Open Mic
2 pm FREE Family Writing Workshop
3pm Young Writers Open Mic
4pm Home Grown Theater: OFF BROADWAY
5-6 pm Adult Workshops Open Mic
If you live outside the Treasure Valley area we will mail you your anthology copy and if you cannot make it to the event you can pick up your copy at The Cabin starting on December 16th during business hours, 9 am-5 pm, Monday-Friday.
Additional copies of the anthologies will be on sale at the event.
See you soon,
The Cabin Team
What do playwright William Shakespeare and journalists Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward have in common? The Cabin created two new camps this summer covering their favorite writing genres!
Off Broadway and News Flash were added to the Cabin's repertoire this summer. News Flash used Boise as a template for their feature news articles, interviews, and profiles. Off Broadway, taught by a local playwright, worked with campers to compose plays which they read/performed at the end of their week at camp. The young playwrights visited a local theater company, and discovered the magic of compiling scene, characters, plot, and dialogue. Bellow is a One Scene Play from Teaching-playwright Heidi Kraay's Off Broadway grades 5-6.
by Samantha Schabot, grade 6
JENNIFER and LIONELL walk into the old printer’s shop.
Everything is so...dusty.
Yuck. Oh my gosh, this would be the best thing to put on our exhibit!
Lionell runs over to the printer
and brushes away the dust.
R. Hoe & Co. New York, Number 3587! Jennifer! It’s perfect! Jen?
Jennifer slips into another room.
Jennifer! I found this great printer and...what’s that?
A LAME hat. I mean, look! The corners are torn, there is a hole in the top, and, it’s just hideous!
It was my great great-great-great-grandfather’s hat!
Jen, the printer!
You take that silly printer! We were allowed one thing that was valuable and I, for one, think this is valuable.
Jennifer, you may think it’s valuable, but what if the manager of the museum doesn’t? Jen, this could be our chance to become part of the museum! We could be--
What? Famous? Rich?
Suddenly a picture frame falls
from the wall, shattering.
Oh, look at what you’ve done?
I didn’t do anything!
Jen brushes away the glass pieces
and looks at the picture.
Oh, it’s my great-great-great-great aunt! She’s wearing his hat!
Hat schmat. Let’s take the printer and that thing and leave.
Not so fast.
Lionell and Jen look around.
Very funny, Lionell!
I’m not doing anything!
You’re going to make me hug you and go all damsel in distress.
Well, it’s working!
Lionell and Jen get closer together
and GHOST appears.
It’s beautiful! It’s the best thing for…
Shut up about the exhibit!
That’s my daddy’s hat, I died in it! I intend to keep it.
Okay, we’ll just leave with the printer...
No! My daddy made people rich with that printer! Leave!
Jennifer switches her hat out with
the hat she wants.
Jen runs away but Lionell stays
and starts to drag the printer
toward the door.
Money, Jen, millions!
Jen escapes. Lionell is trapped
by: Rachel Hanna, Grade 3
When I woke my shadow was gone. I was walking on the sidewalk and didn’t see it. It must have disappeared to another person because when I looked again I had a new shadow. It was way different. It didn’t like my curly hair. It didn’t think I was funny. It wasn’t unique. It hated food. It wasn’t smart and it didn’t like blue.
“Why?” I said. “Why is it so different?”
It was strange, when I hopped in my car I drove home. When I got out of the car my real shadow was back.
Photo courtesy of http://croksushi.deviantart.com
Talking to roses and trees is not considered normal behavior, but a the Cabin it is encouraged! Teaching-writer Guisela Bahruth takes her Cabin Writers to the Rose Garden and encourages them to write from the perspective of a rose, and 'talk' to a rose.
The writers read Shel Silverstein's poem The Oak and the Rose, spread out in the garden and spent time selecting a single bloom that inspired them!
One young writer wrote about a beautiful rose with a unhelpful and aloft personality, another wrote about a lonely rose that became friends with a bee.
Teaching-writer Genna Kohlhardt took her writers to the Idaho State Historical Museum and the small garden next to Pioneer Village. The vibrant flowers in the Pioneer Village garden influenced the descriptions the writers used in their poetry.
The Sun Inside of Me
by: Rose Murphy, Grade 5
An orange yellow sun
arose shining light down to
my toes by then it’s
more of a soft salmon
which awakes my soul.
It triggers my heart,
my brain and my veins
begin to start.
The sun flows
throughout my brain.
a snow white color
as the day
goes on and on
and as the sun
inside my whole body
it turns a soft magenta,
and since I am so tired
my muscles are now darker
They are blacker than black.
Urban Ink writers find their inspiration in cityscape. Boise with its aged and new buildings, alleys, coffee shops, and public art allow the writers to muse in unique city scenes, and then walk a few block and find a entire new layout to ponder. Below is a poem from teaching-writer Christian Winn's Urban Ink class, grades 7-9.
Summertime in the City
by Catherine Waddell, grade 7
Summer feels like freedom, no school,
no homework, you can do whatever
you want. Summer feels like an icy water balloon
exploding when you catch it.
The smell of summer is heat
and flowers and chlorine.
The taste of summer is ice cream
on a hot day, or fresh juicy watermelon
on the 4th of July.
Summer sounds like waves
on the Oregon coast, crashing to shore.
Three cups of love,
two teaspoons of rules,
90 degrees of heat,
two new swimsuits, and
four tubs of piled-high ice cream
This summer I have enjoyed traveling to several different locations in Boise to watch a variety of young writers scribble on paper. The results are astounding. I find beauty, inspiration, and unique creativity in each piece I read. The boundless frontier of young writers' minds are dark and silly, profound and incomparable.
The Cabin has a wide variety of camps that appeal to any young or budding writer. Play writing, art and writing, urban writing, nature writing, journalism, and workshops for adults. Boise has a unique treasure nestled next to the Boise Library. The Cabin utilizes a spectrum of activities and locations to bring out the astonishing works they publish in their anthology every year.
The Teaching-writers are wonderful. They seem to always know what to say to encourages pencils to move, or they find a poem or short story which sparks creativity in their writers.
by Evan Haskin, grade 5
The city’s lights flicker endlessly in the background, a memorizing sunset. The sky is a velvety purple lying like a blanket protecting Earth. I kick at the littered posters of sold out and abandoned shows being shoved relentlessly by the soft wind. Never had the scent of pines and fresh water in McCall smelled so good. Over half of the town is indoors bundling up by the fireplace watching films. The streets are vacant almost ghostly. I hear the gentle beginning of rain start to cover the sidewalk. But I find none of these distractions keep me from walking. The nearby lake, reflecting the slowly darkening skies off its tiny ripples, is empty. It is usually filled with playful children or a plethora of minnows. Where has everyone gone? A black cloud descends behind me and I hear the first delicate crackling sound of purple lightning.
Boise is celebrating its 150th anniversary with photographs, storytelling, and music (among other things). Teaching-writer Alan Minskoff's News Flash journalists did not want to miss out on a compelling story so they walked to City Hall to interview individuals in the Art and History Department like Public Arts Manager Karen Bubb and Boise State University Historian Fellow April Raine.
The journalist composed two different stories from their interviews, one covered the careers of the people in the Art and History Department, the second revealed their home-life and hobbies.
Incorporated in the 150th theme the journalist wrote feature stories about parts of Boise they found fascinating: murders and outlaws like Harry Orchard and Claude Dallas, the appetizing Farmers Market, and the appeal of the river and bike culture.
News Flash journalists Abby and Cloe talking to Karen Bubb about her artwork.
The News Flash journalist also took the time to interview their fellow journalists and write short biographies about them. Their feature stories and bios will be included in a New Flash magazine that the Cabin will be releasing later this year.
There were three guarantees in Teaching-writer Alan Minskoff's News Flash class at the Cabin: coffee shops, laughter, and unexpected adventures.
Journalism is a interactive form of writing, it requires young writers to step out into the community and ask questions.
The aspiring journalist visited coffee shops, like Thomas Hammer, and asked the coffee and tea enthusiasts two questions: "What do you like about Boise?" and "What would you change about Boise?" The people interviewed liked: the weather, people, and local attractions like the river and the Shakespeare Festival, and wanted to change: the weather, people, and parking meters. The journalist visited the Basque Museum and Idaho State Historical Museum and wrote about the exhibits they found intriguing. Of course, they also had fun.
Recent changes in journalism influenced the News Flash class. Often the journalist would take time out of their day to blog about trips they'd taken, summer adventures, pets, and their favorite clothes. They also discussed what is news and what is not news. General consensus: News is factual stories, and things people want to hear. Yesterday's news is not news.
Different Point of View
A story written by Ava Steckel a 4th grader in Guisela Baruth's Writing Wild class.
“Hey, how you doing honey?” I woke up to the sound of my parents talking outside. I tried to get up to look out the window, but I couldn’t. My sheets seemed to be pulling me down! All of a sudden a crazy thought popped into my head. Maybe overnight I had changed into a super hero and could shrink myself. I knew that it was a crazy idea, but the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that it was true. “Yippee,” I explained as I soared like fly out of my bed, having finally gotten free of my sheets.
“Wait,” I thought, “Why am I flying?” I was puzzled, but I quickly dismissed it as another one of my super human abilities. I soon realized that a group of bees were coming straight toward me! “Eecchk,” I screamed, swatting at the bees until I realized that one of them was talking to me. “Whoa, calm down, man!” It seemed to be saying. “What is your deal?” Why could I suddenly understand them? I thought. Then I realized that they were waiting for an answer. “Sorry,” I choked. “It’s okay man, just don’t do it again. Hey! I have an idea! Why don’t you just come with us back to the hive?” “Hive? Um, I’m not a bee.” I said. “Dude, take a look at yourself.” He replied.
I looked down and realized that he was right. How had I not realized before? Of course I wasn’t super human! It had been foolish of me to think that. With nowhere else to go, I turned and followed them to their hive.
I was lost in thought until out of nowhere a shrilly scream pierced the air, then, I saw a giant hand fall down from the sky. I darted around it, and it followed me. A human was trying to swat me! I turned and caught up to my group. As I was leaving, I heard a man’s voice say, “It’s okay Anna, that bee won’t sting you now!” I turned away sobbing. Just yesterday I had been swatting a bee. Had I taken a life as important as my own? I could not bear to think about it. I realized that I could not go to the hive. How could I, after I had cruelly taken an innocent life? I couldn’t go back to my house either, since my family wouldn’t recognize me. Defeated, I turned to the east, and started to fly. Suddenly, I dropped down to the ground. I looked down and saw a pair of feet! I was finally back to normal! I stood up, brushed myself off and promised myself that I would never, ever swat a bee again, no matter what! I knew what it felt like.