We just posted a preview clip from Mark Overmeyer’s upcoming video How Can I Support You? Strategies for Effective Writing Conferences. In his new video you can watch Mark as he conducts six individual writing conferences and one group conference with students in grades three and five. Mark describes how he uses conferences to meet the needs of all writers, including beginning English language learners, advanced students, and students who struggle to develop their ideas. A bonus section includes a peer conference with Mark’s comments about how to help students support each other.
In his new book 10 Things Every Writer Needs to Know, Jeff Anderson focuses on developing the concepts and application of ten essential aspects of good writing: motion, models, focus, detail, form, frames, cohesion, energy, words, and clutter. In our new video conversation with Jeff he talks about why he felt it was important to “zoom back” from the sentence level of writing and look at the bigger picture of what makes writing work.
Teacher and author Julie D. Ramsay was recently interviewed by her local radio station in Alabama. During the interview Julie talks about her new book, “Can We Skip Lunch and Keep Writing” and shares her strategies for getting students excited about writing.
Listening to the interview you will get a really nice picture of Julie’s classroom and the motivation behind writing her book. Julie says that the interview was a fun experience for her as well, and she got some great sound editing tips from radio experts.
Such a simple question, with so many possible answers! Thursday, October 20, is the third annual National Day on Writing and the Stenhouse Blog will join the celebration by asking you to answer the question: Why do you write?
Here is what some of our authors said:
” Writing allows me to build a whole city and all its inhabitants — not out of mortar and metal, skin and blood — but of words.” (Ralph Fletcher)
“Writing is waiting for a place to happen. As writing teachers, we just need to create the space.” (Jeff Anderson)
“I write so that I can teach children that their ideas matter and their words have power.” (Ann Marie Corgill)
Leave your response in the comments section between now and Thursday and you could be one of 20 winners to receive this fabulous poster with more inspiring quotes on writing:
In our latest video conversation with Kelly Gallagher, the author of Write Like This talks about why he wrote this book and why he is concerned about students learning “fake school writing” instead of real-world writing in the classroom. Kelly also believes that teachers need model their own writing process. “I think we give students a false idea of how writing comes to be,” he says.
You can preview a sample chapter from Kelly’s book on the Stenhouse website.
In a post titled Making Conventions Fun, Vicki Spandel and Jeff Hicks recently reviewed Jeff Anderson’s book Everyday Editing on their blog Six Trait Gurus.
“Books are meant to be read in different ways,” they write, “and this one isn’t necessarily a book you’ll sit down and read cover to cover (like a mystery novel) prior to using it. Begin Everyday Editing by reading the Introduction plus the first three chapters. This much, Part I, sets the stage for setting up lessons, and will help you understand the premise of the book–which is to invite students into the world of editing through literature and fascinating examples.”
The review then offers 10 steps for making the most of Jeff’s book.
“Why would we spend time tediously correcting errors that just happen to pop up in students’ writing when we could engage our writers in dynamic discussions about real writing, sparked by brilliant examples from today’s best writers,” the reviewers ask in the conclusion. “Thanks to Jeff Anderson for inviting us on an incredible journey that virtually electrifies editing instruction. Don’t miss this book.”
Are the students in your school writing enough to develop into skilled writers? Will their writing be good enough to get a desirable job and participate in civic life? What can you do to give writing the attention it deserves?
In his new book, Write Like This:Teaching Real-World Writing Through Modeling and Mentor Texts, Kelly Gallagher addresses the alarming discrepancy between the importance of writing and the low achievement demonstrated by the majority of the country’s adolescent writers. He argues that students need to be stretched beyond the types of writing required by most standards and tests to include real-world purposes and authentic models.
Write Like This shows you how to get students to buy into writing as a valuable and relevant skill, and provides practical ways to model for your students as they write to:
express and reflect;
inform and explain;
evaluate and judge;
inquire and explore;
analyze and interpret;
take a stand/propose a solution.
Kelly includes mentor texts throughout the book—professional samples and models he has written in front of his students—as well as a chapter on meaningful revision and editing.
Preview the entire book online now and then listen to a podcast with Kelly Gallagher and Franki Sibberson on the ChoiceLiteracy website.
“The idea of putting something that you care about in words, on paper, that will then be shared with others, is a scary proposition. It takes courage to do that, to let yourself be seen, to be vulnerable.”
We end our Summer Writing Blogstitute with an entry by teacher educator Maureen Barbieri.After working as a teacher, principal, and literacy coach for many years, Maureen currently teaches literacy courses at the University of New Hampshire, volunteers at a local elementary school, and takes care of two young grandchildren every week.
We hope you enjoyed our Blogstitute and that the posts helped you prepare for a new year of writing and teaching writing. We hope you will join us for future blog events — until then keep commenting and keep writing!
Expect the Unexpected: An Unlikely Writing Group
Years ago, when I moved away from New Hampshire, Donald Graves made me a promise: “Wherever you go,” he said, “you’ll find other literate people.” Sure enough, in Cleveland, South Carolina, and New York City, I was blessed with friends who loved what I love.
When I came back to New England in 2008, it was heart wrenching to leave my job at NYU. My husband had retired, and, as a result of what turned out to be the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression, full-time work eluded me. During those months of adjusting, there was one constant in my life: daily exercise at a local women’s gym. In a small room, women worked the machines in a circuit, so it was hard to avoid other people. But surely these women’s lives were unlike my own. Many spent winters in Florida, while others spoke of playing golf, quilting, or gardening. I kept my head down and did my exercises in silence.
One day I overheard a woman named Kerry describe how much she admired her mother for raising four children alone. When Kerry turned thirty, she had hired a private detective and tracked her father down. Fascinated with her story, I blurted out, “You really should write about that.”
“Write?” she asked. “I’m not really a writer.”
“Well,” I told her, “I had a teacher who used to say, ‘Everyone should write her own story.’” My friend Don Murray believed that writing lets us discover meaning in experience.
A week later, another one of the women at the gym was eager to tell me she had found Murray’s Boston Globe columns online. “He’s a great writer,” she said. I gave her his books My Twice-Lived Life and The Lively Shadow. Thus began my friendship with Beth, sharing reactions to books, chatting about our families.
Slowly, the gym took on new dimensions. A year passed, we continued to talk books on a regular basis, and then several things seemed to coalesce. Beth was itching to try writing. Kerry’s mom became ill, her memory faltered, and Kerry lamented stories left untold. She wondered if she should write down some of her own recollections for her daughter. Nancy, an accomplished journalist, wanted to try memoir and was looking for advice. Michelle, the mother of two boys, one severely handicapped, wanted to write about them.
We began our writing group with trepidation, holding our first meeting at the local library where Beth was a trustee. New to writing for an audience, the women were nervous and unsure of what to expect. Though I’ve taught writing and worked with new writers for years, I felt rusty, not having written anything personal in a while. What if I had nothing to say? I remembered that Murray always saw himself as a student at the writer’s desk, ready to be surprised by whatever appeared on the page. His spirit propelled me forward. Kerry’s husband baked madeleines for our first meeting and—partly because good food builds community and helps break down barriers—the tension eased. We spoke about what we wanted from the group: an audience for our stories; gentle, supportive feedback; questions.
Now we gather at each other’s houses once a month. The anxiety has lessened with each meeting, and stories have emerged: the courage of sick friends; memories of parents, siblings, and teachers; the heartache of first jobs, leaving home, and the rigors of getting older. Sometimes we try prompts, but mostly we write for our own purposes: Kerry, a eulogy for a beloved friend and a tribute to a colleague of twenty-five years; Michelle, blog posts about motherhood; Nancy, reflections on being a bone marrow donor for her brother.
Our meetings run late. Friends now, we hate to say goodnight, but there’s something else. The stories have become richer, more textured, and replete with the “revealing specifics” Murray prized. Because we consider each other “audience,” we respect deadlines and strive to be more effective.
As I spend time with grandchildren, students, or my husband, part of me assumes the role of spectator-participant, and the writing yields new attention to ordinary days. A boy I worked with in Chinatown years ago observed, “Most of the things that happen in your everyday life aren’t very important, but when you write about them, you make them important.”
We tell students that writing is a way to communicate, but it is so much more. Writing allows us to discover what our lives have been, are now, and may yet be. What would happen if busy teachers made time for this kind of exploration on a regular basis? To write about life and work, and then to meet with people eager to listen, seems a worthy endeavor. Literate people find each other, yes; and, in the sharing of stories, we sustain each other too.
This week’s blogstitute entry comes from David Somoza, coauthor of Writing to Explore: Discovering Adventure in the Research Paper, 3-8. He and author Peter Lourie demonstrate how to teach adventure writing, which integrates nonfiction and fiction and motivates students to write with imagination, curiosity, and a hunger to learn everything about their topic.
Coming next week: a BONUS blogstitute entry from Maureen Barbieri on how she found friendship and writing inspiration in an unlikely place.
Don’t forget to leave a comment or ask a question to be entered to win a package of five writing books. You can also purchase the package for a special, reduced price — for a limited time only!
The Adventure Essay: A Creative Alternative to the Research Paper
David Somoza and Peter Lourie
At some point all of us have either written a research paper or taught students how to write one. My experience, from both perspectives, brings up feelings of dread. I may be way off, but I bet others have similar feelings. And yet, when you think about why we teach students to write research papers, some great reasons come to mind. The skills that kids get from the process are important ones: from learning how to research a subject in depth, to being able to understand text and rewrite it in a meaningful way, to learning how to organize ideas into a cohesive essay. All of these skills are valuable, but more often than not there’s little or no opportunity for creativity in the process, and that’s the downfall. There’s also no personal attachment or purpose to the writing itself. It’s the tedious and laborious work in the absence of imaginative thought that leads to the feelings of dread when someone mentions the words research paper.
Recently I stumbled upon a way to instill imagination and purpose into the process of writing the research paper—and it all revolves around adventure.
After multiple failed attempts to make research paper writing more engaging for my students and myself, I began reading some of Peter Lourie’s nonfiction books. I found them full of factual information yet very engaging. The difference between his books and my students’ research papers was the creative element. Pete describes his passion for nonfiction adventure writing this way: “Research is exploration. Whether you’re exploring a subject by traveling to a place, or studying history in a book, or talking to experts, it’s all about discovery. Once I’m engaged in a journey or adventure, then everything I learn is possible material to weave into the adventure.” Pete develops a narrative thread that often places him at the heart of the subject matter. Whether he’s hiking through a jungle in search of Mayan ruins or talking with a gold miner in the Amazon, it’s through his eyes that we journey forward; inadvertently, we learn about the subject matter as he learns it himself when he travels. This, I realized, was the kind of writing I hoped to get from my students.
Through many conversations with Pete, I began to understand his process of writing, which I’ve tried to replicate with my fifth graders. Essentially it involves two unique elements that must come together seamlessly: the research element and the narrative element. Because I can’t take my students to the jungle before they write about it, they need to take virtual journeys, adding an element of fiction to an otherwise nonfiction research paper. The narrative is driven by the adventure that each student chooses to take.
We begin with research. Through the research process, students gain a deep understanding of the topic. In addition to facts and figures, they find photos, maps, and even video clips to strengthen their understanding of the place where they intend to travel. Once they have a solid grasp on the subject, they begin to plan their adventure. This is the fun part; they love to imagine themselves traveling and heading out on exciting adventures.
When a solid plan is in place, we dive in. Where will you go? How will you get there? What will you do? Where will you sleep? These kinds of questions tend to jar their imaginations and make them realize that we’ve gone from simply researching a subject to engaging with it. Kids have the best imaginations, and they’re eager to learn the details of places, history, and people.
This is where the two streams come together—the stream of research and the stream of imagination. As the imaginative stream continues, it gains its strength from the details in the research, and vice versa. In other words, the learning is woven into the fabric of the story to ground it and make it realistic. As teachers, we facilitate this back-and-forth process by encouraging students to do more research or expand their adventure narrative.
This process of alternating between the imagined journey and the actual research maintains all the best teachings of the research paper but also calls on students to be imaginatively engaged with their topic. Pete and I have found that this adventure writing model works in many settings. I use it with my fifth graders when they study the U.S. states and again when they learn about Latin America. Pete uses the same model with his students at Middlebury College, where he teaches adventure writing and digital storytelling.
As a departure from the traditional research paper, this adventure-based approach integrates student research with aspects of creative writing. The process of taking an imagined adventure can be more engaging, more personally relevant, and more rewarding for students. Their final projects represent not only their research but also their self-expression.
I’m sure this idea can be used as an alternative to a variety of research projects that we haven’t thought of yet. How might you use it in your own classroom with your own students?
In a post titled 
