How Our Garden Grows

I don’t know anything about gardening, but my mom is a Master Gardner certified in two states. She has a saying about plants that has always stuck with me: The first year, they sleep. The second year, they creep. The third year, they leap.

This summer was The Wordshop’s second in business, and it turns out that Mrs. Marilyn’s adage holds true for little writing schools just as much as it does for perennials. We welcomed a host of new kids to The Wordshop this summer, several of whom took multiple classes. We now have students from Olathe and Kansas City (as well as one from the East Coast!) making the trek to Antioch and 127th Street, and Daisy has made more new friends than she has toes.

July’s highlights include:

  • the arrival (and quick banning) of Lyndon’s typewriter during A Deed Most Foul. I’m pretty sure mechanical typewriters and the noise they produce are why writing is a solitary pursuit. The typewriter itself was baby blue and iconic, just like Lyndon himself.

  • the strange Britney Spears obsession that has overtaken the Choose Your Own Adventure writing team. OF COURSE I know Britney’s entire catalog. I was in high school when the infamous Rolling Stone cover was released; I got it in the MAIL. (This started because Sloane thought the Hope Diamond went down with the Titanic and I had to explain that no, that’s not the Hope Diamond in the movie or the “Oops….I Did It Again” video, and I really don’t remember so many space scientists being in that video. The Hope Diamond is currently in the Museum of Natural History in the Smithsonian. When I was in 7th grade, my best friend and I joked about stealing it while we were there. The security guards did not care.)

  • the 8,000 Dum-Dums that have been devoured by every book club and writing class.

  • talking romances with Violet over video chat and agreeing that, despite our love for My Most Excellent Year, it totally jumps the shark when Julie Andrews shows up.

  • watching the three fantasy book clubbers from last summer reunite as even better, more insightful (but still just as zany) readers this summer.

  • seeing Andrei grin from ear to ear after finishing his college application essay.

  • making Madeleine and Savannah laugh (while Wren just shook his head at his mother and grandmother) as my mom and I taught them cursive. In lieu of swear words, they’ll be writing Dick Blick art stick all over their notebooks this year.

  • delighting in the poetry created by the Over the Rainbow day camp kids. We did blackout poetry one week, followed by poetry frames the next. The poems they came up with were silly, funny, heartwarming, and downright movie. Flossie’s was one of my favorites: “I have eaten / the people / that were in /the basement / and which / you were probably / saving / for her.” William Carlos Williams could NEVER.

  • watching the Telling Tall Tales writers become better storytellers with each passing week. Chuck McDuck, we hardly knew ye.

  • inadvertently starting a good-natured argument about manga among the Novel Start-Up crew. There were visual aides! I still have no idea what happened

  • calling out misogyny and figurative language with Lucy during Swiftie Stories. We’re so happy that Taylor’s happy.

It’s been a magical summer. We have just a few classes left to wrap up, and then kids are back to school. I’ve been working on my fall schedule (currently waiting on some outside info), and I’ll let you know as soon as it goes live.

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Summer Never Felt So Good