Innholdsfortegnelse for September 2015 i Cricket Magazine Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories for Children and Young Teens

AS I LEFT the stage after my audition, I could feel it. The power. The future. I knew that someday when celebrity magazines wrote about me, they would say this moment was when my rise to stardom began. My sister Diana’s ballet slippers pinched my feet, but I figured that was helpful. In The Twelve Dancing Princesses, the princesses danced all night, every night, so they probably had sore feet, too. My performance was more authentic because of my pain. I imagined the ghost of the great acting coach Constantin Stanislavsky patting my back and saying, “Good job, kid.” No, no. My fantasies were taking me out of character, and I needed to show my commitment even when I wasn’t onstage. I approached Mr. Ellison, the drama club advisor, and…

“CROSS TO DOWNSTAGE right from upstage center, and don’t turn your back.” If your first thought is “Huh?” it’s time you learned about stage directions. Stage directions are instructions an actor follows in performing a play. They help the director tell the actors where to go on the stage. Imagine a stage divided, like a tic-tac-toe board, into nine different sections. These sections are the basic areas where actors can position themselves onstage. Center stage is in the middle. Stage right and stage left are always to the actor’s right and left when facing the audience. Stage right, for instance, is to the actor’s right, which is the audience’s left. Upstage is the back section of the stage farthest from the audience. Downstage is the front part closest to the…

IT’S A MAGIC moment. A hush comes over the theater audience, the lights go down, the curtain goes up. Comedy or tragedy, opening night on Broadway or the class play in your school auditorium—there’s no business like show business. But who began it? In Western culture, “modern” drama probably started over two thousand years ago, thanks to a brilliant young Greek: Thespis. In Athens, Thespis was a superstar: actor, singer, writer, producer, director. Until then, Greek theater was more like an opera chorus than a play. Thespis introduced something brand-new and exciting: individual actors speaking individual parts. A small improvement? Yes, but the most electrifying thing to happen in early drama. And it opened the way for new stage techniques and for the playwrights that followed him, right down to…

Dear Everybuggy, I know that you have heard this a billion times, but your mag rocks! This is the first time I’ve written to you. My sister Claire has done it many times, though. I have eight sisters, two brothers, and one dog. Our dog’s name is Polly, and she is four years old. We are homeschooled, but my sister and I might go to Oak Grove School this year. I really want to go there! I play piano and I really want to play the violin. I do gymnastics and play tennis. My favorite subjects in school are reading and drawing. I am learning Italian; it is really hard. I auditioned for Ojai’s Got Talent with my friend, and we got in! I am both excited and nervous. One…

LUCY LARCOM WAS once one of the most famous and beloved poets in America. Today she is best remembered for her autobiography, A New England Girlhood, which tells about her growing-up years as a mill girl, toiling in the dusty and noisy cotton mills of Lowell, Massachusetts. Lucy was born in 1824, in the peaceful seaside village of Beverly, Massachusetts. She was the ninth of her family’s ten children, which included eight girls and two boys. As a young girl she enjoyed exploring the meadows and woods near her house and playing with her brothers and sisters. When Lucy was seven years old her father died unexpectedly, changing her life forever. Lucy’s mother struggled to find the money to feed and clothe her big family. Not many jobs were open…

Role Play Excerpts from Cricket’s Chatterbox Fairytale RP Gretel › I moved cautiously but rapidly through the dense foliage. A rumbling still vibrated through the ground, and despite my repeated calling, I still could not find anyone. My fear and anxiety felt like it was choking me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to just curl up and hide, scream, or throw up. I tried to shove the feeling away and kept myself focused on what I was supposed to be doing. Suddenly the rumbling started getting drastically louder. “What the . . .” “RUN!” a voice screamed at me, and suddenly I was being yanked into a mad dash across the island. — submitted by Blonde Heroines Rule Apocalypse RP Brock › Brock was hiding in an alley. Just…

THAT TUESDAY STARTED out just like any other summer day. Mom dropped me off with Gram and Gramps just before seven so she could make her breakfast shift at the diner. The morning was already as steamy and sticky as hot caramel. My T-shirt was damp against my back, and my hair clung to my neck and temples like moss to a tree. For the millionth time I wished Gram and Gramps had air conditioning. But if I complained, Gram would just poke out her chin and say, “Nonsense to pay an arm and leg for something people have survived thousands of years without.” “I’m burning up,” I moaned, swiping the back of my hand over my slick forehead. Gram stood at the sink looking cool as a cucumber as…

ON SEPTEMBER 15, 1752, twelve-year-old Lewis Hallam Jr. trembled onstage. Lewis had grown up in a theatrical family—his mother was an actress and his father the manager of the family’s theater company—but Lewis had never performed in front of an audience. And he was terrified! The crowded theater hadn’t been so frightening in daytime, but now, with candles in hoop chandeliers casting shadows along the walls, the stink of tobacco smoke and tallow and unwashed bodies in the air, and all eyes on him, it seemed a completely different place. Lewis’s family’s theater company had traveled from England to America earlier that year. Tonight’s play, Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, was the company’s first performance in America. Lewis knew how important this play was for his family: their future income…

WINNERS APRIL 2015 POETRY CONTEST Wild Animal First prize 10 and under Kyra Bettwy, age 9 New York, NY Komodo Dragon As I lurk in the murk and my prey wanders nearI check to see if my weapons are hereI have my sharp teeth and my poisonous biteAnd my razor-like claws that cause quite a frightIn stories they say that dragons breathe fireAnd fly through the air wreaking havoc most direBut real dragons like me, we don’t do those thingsLike scorching and sizzling and soaring with wingsWe don’t cause a fuss, we don’t even glideWe mostly just stay in the shadows and hideWe blend in with our background; then we waitUntil our meal chooses to come meet its fateWith my black beady eyes and my long forked tongueAnd my rough…