Winter 2007-2008 flyingship.org
The Orphans’ Christmas By Lise Johnson Illustrated by D.B. Johnson Page 10
Stories • Activities Artwork • Poetry and more! Publishing work by Upper Valley Residents! See page 15 for submission guidelines.
In this issue...
Fun Stuff Code Breaker ............................................................6
We hope you enjoy this special holiday issue of Flying Ship! We received many great submissions during the past several months, including a lot of terrific poetry. Keep sending us your work! In the next issue we will feature an exhibit of photography, so get out your cameras! Featured adult contributors include Lise Johnson, a writer from San Francisco (formerly Lebanon, New Hampshire) and her father, artist and author D.B. Johnson, whose books are available in your local bookstore! Ellie Manny of Millbrook, New York did the artwork for our Picture Puzzler, and the crossword puzzle on page 13 was created by Danielle Mansfield-Marcoux. We have made some organizational changes to Flying Ship which may interest you. First of all, we have decided to distribute more free copies to local schools, libraries and after-school programs. We will no longer be selling copies in retail locations, but you can obtain copies by ordering from our website or by subscribing. Teachers, we love class submissions! We also would like to know about any special projects or events that are going on in your school or classroom. In the coming months, we hope to schedule more school visits and presentations. Please let us know if you would be interested in having us visit your class or educational group! Finally, we would like to publicly thank the Byrne Foundation for a generous gift which is enabling the production of this issue! Thank you! Have a great holiday!
Picture Puzzler ..........................................................8 Winter Wonderland Crossword ..............................13 Stories by Adults The Orphans’ Christmas, by Lise Johnson, Illustrated by D.B. Johnson ..................10 Articles Revels, by Marta J. Bartholomew................................5 Lighting at the Falls, by Karthik Gomathinayagam ......14 Other Stuff I Am From Poems by 4th Graders at Marion Cross School........4, 14 Artwork & poetry throughout! Photography Exhibition Details ............................12 Subscribe to Flying Ship Magazine ........................15 Submit your work for publication..........................15 Material on marked pages recommended for ages: ▲ 6-8 ■ 9-10 ● 11-14 Flying Ship’s mission is to encourage kids to be creative and use their imaginations. We believe there is nothing more important to becoming a healthy, productive and active individual than developing your imagination, whether you become a carpenter, a scientist, an artist or the next president! Your ideas and suggestions are always welcome, no matter what your age.
To see more great writing and artwork check out FLYINGSHIP.ORG!
SUPPORT FLYING SHIP! Your generosity keeps us afloat! We rely on your donations to meet our significant production costs. Please consider making a contribution with the form on page 15 or online at flyingship.org. Thank you!
The deadline for all submissions for the March 2008 issue is January 21! Submission info on page 15
Flying Ship Magazine, PO Box 1159, Norwich, VT 05055 www.flyingship.org • (603) 398-2080 • firstname.lastname@example.org Publisher: Mathew Doyle • Editor: Nikki Kendall Producer: Kathy Hardy All stories and artwork ©2007 by the author/artist unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved. Except for one-time personal use, no part of any issue or online content may be reproduced by any mechanical, photographic or electronic process, nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or otherwise copied for public or private use without written permission of the copyright owner.
Notturno By Samantha Abrams, Age 12, The Sharon Academy Great tall oaks with leaves of white, Orbited by flying winter sprite, Notturno music playing gently, Snowflakes fit for Snowflake Bentley, Winter swirling all around, Hitting the snow without a sound, Looking from our cabin’s window, Outside is a big world of snow, Notturno hits a double G, Snow is swirling even more gently, Roaring wind does not make a sound, Suddenly I’m whipped around, Floating towards the great white oak, In soft snow my bare hands soak, At A flat my eyes grow wide, For me and the great tree nearly collide, I come to a stop and float to the ground, I lie back down and look around, High above me the atmosphere spins, I lose, and the snow wins,
By Ian Girdwood, Age 11 Grade 6 class of Pat McNamara, Seminary Hill School, Lebanon, New Hampshire
I am a fantastic reader. I wonder what I would be like if I lived in the Middle Ages. I hear a wolf howl and a falcon screech. I see an eagle gliding over the pages of my book. I want to be in the story, soaring with the eagle. I am a fantastic reader. I pretend I am the explorer finding the new lands. I feel the joys and the hardships of the journey. I touch the leather binding softly, before I go to sleep. I worry that the story is almost over. I cry when I finish the book. I am a fantastic reader. I understand the meanings of the words in front of me. 1 say hurray! when the evil people are vanquished. I dream that my favorite book is a never-ending story, with a new chapter to read each day. I try to be like my favorite characters. I hope one day everyone in the world will enjoy reading. I am a fantastic reader.
As the A-flat rises up and up, I see the world even more close up, A white world whirling faster and faster, Yet I know it’s no disaster,
The Moon is Blue. the Stars are Bright.
Gazing up at the mighty oak, All around me I feel smoke, Suddenly I’m sinking in, Blazing warmth, I can feel it begin,
Everyone is safe tonight.
I sink in fast, I see a light, I feel a fire burning bright, I open my eyes, and what do you know, It was only my mind playing Notturno.
By Riley Werthiem, Age 7, Norwich, Vermont
Note: A notturno (sometimes called a nocturne) is a type of musical composition. 3
Flying Ship Magazine
I Am From By Finley Doyle Grade 4, Class of Eloise Ginty, Marion Cross School, Norwich, Vermont
I am from my parents’ warm arms I am from the rushing stream I am from my ever trusty friend far away in France I am from my family trudging around down stairs and bon appetit before dinner
I am from choco
I am from the calm waters of the canals of France I am from longing and joy at the same time
By Aidan Moore & Isabella Bordales, Age 5, Strafford, Vermont (Kindergarten class of Anmari Kicza)
(Tunbridge One Planet After School Program)
By Avery Monahan Grade 3, Marion Cross School Norwich, Vermont
CROSSROADS ACADEMY Challenging Minds, Strengthening Hearts Since 1991
Where every day is an adventure… Please call for information – 603.795.3111 Crossroads Academy is an Upper Valley K–8 independent school.
95 DARTMOUTH COLLEGE HWY LYME, NH 03768 䡲 TEL: 603-795-3111 BETSY.WARREN@CROSSROADSACADEMY.ORG WWW.CROSSROADSACADEMY.ORG
ARITHMETIC 䡲 LATIN 䡲 ART 䡲 ALGEBRA 䡲 GRAMMAR 䡲 PE 䡲 ART HISTORY
By Taaran Larocque Age 6, Tunbridge, Vermont
LITERATURE 䡲 COMPOSITION 䡲 GEOMETRY 䡲 MUSIC 䡲 HISTORY 䡲 DRAMA 䡲
PRE-ALGEBRA 䡲 FRENCH 䡲 PHYSICAL & BIOLOGICAL SCIENCE 䡲
SPORTS STORIES WANTED!! For sports section in the next issue. See page 15 for submission guidelines.
By Marta J. Bartholomew, Age 9, Hartland, VT REVELS IS AN ORGANIZATION of people who put on shows in theaters. Revels takes place in 10 different cities around the country. In each show there are music and dancing, drama, sets and costumes. The audience gets to participate in some songs and dances. There is a different theme in each show and each city. Revels is the celebration of the winter solstice and Christmas. Every year the show is based on a different place or time.
We celebrate on stage whichever culture we are pretending to be. A lot of times the celebration includes Christmas, but it is really about the cold and dark of winter. The shortest day happens in every show. People celebrate the solstice because they are hoping for light and warmth and the continuation of life. I have been in Revels all my life. Actually, I was in a show two months before I was born. My parents have been in Revels for a long time. We used to live in the Washington, DC, area and we did Revels there. I have done three winter Revels. One was in Washington, DC, and two have been here. I have also been in several May Revels and one summer one. In Revels I sing and dance and sometimes play my violin a little bit. We learn how to act on stage and I learn how to work with other kids. We have a lot of rehearsals, but it is worth it. We have to learn the songs and dances and some other things. I get to know a lot of other people and be a part of the Revels 2007 Revels cast members (clockwise from left): Richard Olsen, community. Melody Blake, Marvin Rogers, Kate Gottesgen
My favorite parts about Revels are being with a lot of other kids, learning to sing with them, and dancing. I also love being able to share my talent on stage and have other people enjoy the show. This year, Revels North is doing a show about Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Iceland, and Karelia. We show how the people there celebrate the solstice and Christmas. There are not many differences between Washington Revels and Revels North. We feel the same sense of community here as we did in Washington, DC. One difference is that there they do a spring and winter Revels, and here they do summer and winter Revels. I think everyone would enjoy Revels and you should all come. It’s entertaining, and you get to see the culture, such as music, dancing, and stories, from other places. Revels has music, dancing, stories, costumes, and different languages, and these are interesting! The audience will go away happy and hopeful for lots of their own things. Some families think it is not Christmas without seeing Revels or being in it. Sheppard Ferguson
Flying Ship Magazine
By Malcolm Silver-Van Meter, Age 8, Thetford, Vermont
Did you know?
Chinese New Year is a major holiday in China and other East Asian countries. It is also called the Spring Festival or Lunar New Year. In 2008 this holiday falls on February 7.
CODE BREAKER! Crack the code to reveal the answer to the riddle!
Dad’s Homemade Waffles
What do snowmen eat for breakfast?
Ahh, delicious fluffy waffles... On mornings when we stay home, our Dad makes homemade waffles. He uses his mother's recipe. My two brothers and I help him measure the ingredients and beat the egg whites. He makes them on his grandmother’s old blackened General Electric waffle iron. We put on sweet maple syrup. They melt in my mouth.
I think these waffles taste extra special since they are made by my Dad, with my grandmother’s recipe, on my great-grandmother’s waffle iron!
_______ I VZWUJK ______ ICNDJW Key: A=N B=M C=L D=K E=J F=I G=H H=G I=F J=E K=D L=C M=B N=A O=Z P=Y Q=X R=V S=W T=U U=T V=R W=S X=Q Y=P Z=O ▲■●
Homemade Waffles 2 cups flour 4 tsp baking powder 3/4 tsp salt 1 3/4 cup milk 4-5 Tbsp melted butter 2 eggs Separate the eggs and beat the egg whites until stiff ( reserve to fold in last). Combine dry ingredients. Mix the yolks and milk in a bowl; add to dry ingredients. If batter seems dry, add more milk. Slowly fold in egg whites. Pour batter onto waffle iron. Alternatively, don’t separate the eggs and just mix everything together. 6 6
Lighting at the Falls By Karthik Gomathinayagam, Age 10, Hanover, New Hampshire
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN a roaring waterfall with lights on it in the dead of night? Well, I have...It was the night that dazzled me. It was the night that was bizarre. It was the night that...it is no use. Ok, I will tell you how I wanted to start. It was the night of the 23rd of August, 2006. A ten hour trip really paid off, although my sister was screaming like Lisi, the noisy sister from Man in the Ceiling. My grandma was the one taking care of her. We had to stop at the rest areas in New Hampshire and New York. My grandpa was sleepy and my parents were the ones that were driving to Buffalo, New York, the Empire State. It was tiring. But enough with that. On with Lighting At the Falls, at Niagara Falls. After the trip, we arrived at the observation deck above the Niagara River. If you lean over you will fall. The American and the Bridal Falls are part of one big rapid river called the American Rapids. The falls are on top of the Niagara River. When the water from the falls drops, it joins with the Niagara River. The water was so clear that you could see the rocks flowing through the river. After lunch, we went back to the observation deck. The lights were purples, reds and whites, and
REPORTERS WANTED! We are seeking more articles like this for the next issue. See page 15 for submission guidelines.
once the American and the Bridal Falls looked like the American flag. The lights were projected from the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. “It is amazing!” said my grandma, holding my baby sister, Shreeya. My parents were taking pictures, and so Did you know? Niagara Falls has been a popular site for daredevils over the years. To prove was my grandpa. their bravery, adventuresome (and foolhardy) people Earlier that day have gone over the edge of the falls in barrels and we went to what is other contraptions of their own invention. Many of called the “Cave of these individuals have died in the attempt. The first the Winds.” There person ever to survive going over the falls in a barrel was a deck called (in 1901) was a 63-year-old female schoolteacher Hurricane Deck. named Annie Tylor. It’s right under the almost fainted. The roaring waterBridal Falls. The water tasted like fall looked like a horseshoe. Well, natural spring water. But at I guess that is why it is called “The Hurricane Deck the water was Horseshoe Falls.” It was probably freezing, like Alaska-in-the-winter the best sight I’ve ever seen. freezing. Indeed that was the best trip I Back to the lighting. I smelled have ever gone on. I thought this a sweet aroma from the falls. It was going to be the worst trip smelled like honey, and it was the because I was going to miss all my most sweet smell I’ve ever smelled friends, but at the very end this other than my grandma’s cooking. trip was awesome. The trip was as She makes the best food I’ve ever awesome as going down the eye of seen, heard of, smelled or tasted. I the storm in Whale’s Tales Water heard a great roar again, and it Park in Lincoln, New Hampshire. sounded like a thousand lions But that is another story, just a roaring. It was amazing and I small story in a big life. 7
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Illustration © 2007 by Ellie Manny elliemanny.com
Can you find all the hidden items in this picture? Find all you can, and visit flyingship.org to see if there is anything you missed!
By Alex Kendall Age 7, Strafford, Vermont
By Katie Ball, Age 8, Hanover, New Hampshire Red, purple, pink, and blue Can very well make a beautiful hue White and black can make gray that shows up often on a rainy day
Water By Anthony Spinella
Red and blue mix together come and go at evening weather
Grade 6 class of Sydney Copp, Tunbridge, Vermont
Orange and yellow are very bright they join together to make daylight
By Alex Kendall
Water is always flowing gushing, splashing, slurping, churning around in circle after circle after circle after circle after circle pushing and F A L L I N G to the ground with a...
S P LA T ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! On to the pavement.
Hidden Items: ❍ ❍ ❍ ❍ ❍ ❍
leaf feather sailboat wolf teapot star 9
❍ ❍ ❍ ❍ ❍ ❍
fried egg hedgehog sweater spoon smiley face scissors
❍ ❍ ❍ ❍ ❍
3 candles mouse boat domino bird ▲■●
Flying Ship Magazine
The Orphans’ Christmas By Lise Johnson • Illustrated by D.B. Johnson
© 2007 D.B. Johnson • dbjohnsonart.com
IN MARSEILLES LONG AGO, a family of orphans lived under a dock. They ate fish and crabs and clams. They bathed in the sea. And each slept in a little boat that hung from the dock’s underside. A small girl, not as small as the rest, had taught the others how to whistle and how to braid. Each night Lisette tucked the orphans into their boats. Then she told them the story of how they became a family. Christmas Eve was no different from other nights. “When I was the size of a seagull,” Lisette began her tale, “I found a little stone. I held it to my eye, and it said—“ “My name is Guy!” Guy cried. Lisette smiled and went on, “Guy brought me a sweet roll to eat. But when I went to bite it, the roll cried out—“ “My name is Bernard!” said Bernard. “Then a butterfly landed on my nose and said—“ “My name is Delphine!” shouted Pascal, unable to wait his turn. This made the orphans laugh. Lisette put a finger to her lips. The dock trembled overhead. But the orphans were not afraid. They knew it was only ragged Old Roland. A sickness had come by boat and taken his grandchildren. Now he watched the sea for their return. The same sickness had taken the orphans’ parents. The orphans knew Old Roland’s grandchildren would not come back. When Old Roland had trudged away, Delphine sighed, “I hope St. Nicolas brings him a gift.” “St. Nicolas won’t come to Old
Roland!” said Bernard. “He’s a stable hand.” “What’s a stable hand?” “Someone who takes care of horses.” “Someone who lives at the stables.” “And St. Nicolas doesn’t visit stables.” “He only visits houses.” “You must live in a house if St. Nicolas is to find you.” “He must find you to give you a gift.” The orphans were silent. Then Guy asked, “Lisette, how will St. Nicolas find us here, at the dock?” At first Lisette did not answer. She remembered the Christmas before. Although she had waited and waited, St. Nicolas never came. “I— I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we should go find Christmas for ourselves.” But how was Christmas to be found, the orphans wondered. “We will set sail,” Lisette said. “Set sail!” the orphans cried. Although they never went by boat, the orphans often set sail— sometimes to a tide pool, sometimes to the woods. Tonight Lisette led them away from the harbor and fog. At the back of the St. Nicolas Church they landed. Lisette pried open a painted window. The orphans climbed through it. Inside the cold church, the chanting of monks grew loud and then quiet. Lisette found a basket of choir robes. She whispered, “On Christmas Eve, choirboys parade through town. They sing carols and collect sweets in this basket.” The orphans nodded. “Put on the robes,” she told them. “Hold these candles. 11
This year, we are the choirboys!” Her eyes sparkled in the darkness. At the bottom of the basket lay the red cloak worn by the boy who played St. Nicolas. Lisette swept it around her shoulders and hid her braid inside it, saying, “Now let’s find Christmas for ourselves!” The orphans, like a flurry of snow, dropped from the window. In a ragged line they lighted their way to the center of town. On the way, Guy made up a carol. It went, “In Christmas be a snowflake, a seashell or a drum/but be a kid on Christmas so St. Nicolas will come!” The others added their voices, squeaking and croaking. Anyone might have guessed the orphans were not choirboys. Their parade moved like marbles. Still, the waiting crowd cheered. Old women pinched their cheeks. The baker placed rolls in their basket. Mothers slipped them nuts and dried fruit. Fathers guffawed and ruffled their hair. Children grinned, pointing. The orphans felt loved. Their basket overflowed with food. Old Roland thought they were as funny as his grandchildren. He reached into his pockets for something to give. But his rags held nothing but holes. He turned to go. Without warning, a gang of shouting boys raced toward the parade. “Robbers! Those are no choirboys!” they screamed to the crowd. “Stop them!” And they pushed through the orphans to fight for the basket. The basket spilled onto the cobbles. The orphans flapped and fluttered and darted like doves. To the left they went, and to the right, through the crowd, and down the alleyways. Lisette bolted, shaking off the red cloak. She looked for the oth▲■●
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ers as she ran, but in the darkness she could barely see. “Guy? Bernard?” she called. At the sound of the waves, she slipped beneath the dock. The boat beds were empty. If there had ever been a chance St. Nicolas would find the orphans, it was gone now. Lisette had scattered her family. The streets were still, for the townsfolk had returned to their homes. Lisette’s cries of “Delphine?” and “Pascal?” brought no answer. She trotted to the bakery. Behind it she might find her friends, nibbling! But only a cat lurked there. She returned to the church. It was gloomy and silent. She ran to the windmills and called for Guy. But the windmills swept his name away. Although Lisette looked every place the orphans liked to sail, she found them nowhere. Finally she slipped inside the dusty stables. Sad and afraid, she climbed to the loft and made a nest in the hay. Even Lisette had been unable to find the orphans this
Christmas. What had become of them? A tear slid down her face. She slept. “When Lisette was the size of a seagull, she found a stone,” said the voice of a boy. “She put it to her eye and it said—“ “My name is Guy.” “—And Guy brought her a sweet roll to eat, but when she went to bite it, the roll said—“ “My name is Bernard.” “—And then a butterfly landed on her nose. It spoke, saying—“ “I don’t want to hear the story,” Delphine sobbed. “But Lisette tells it every night!” “Where can she be?” “Tomorrow we will look until we find her!” Lisette, still hidden, knew she was not dreaming. The orphans had sailed to the stables. They had found her. “My name is Delphine!” Lisette shouted, popping out of the hay. The orphans cheered. They hugged the lost Lisette. They laughed and tossed hay at her head. Even if St.
Nicolas found them after all, and gave each of them a present, Christmas would not be more wonderful than it was upon finding Lisette. The bells of the St. Nicolas Church rang in the morning. Pascal scratched his ankle. Then he fished inside his sock and brought out a nut. “St. Nicolas found the orphans!” he bellowed. Everyone checked their socks, and found either a date or a fig, an almond or a walnut. “Next year,” Guy remarked, “I won’t fill my sock with my foot first.” The orphans traded the sweets. Below, an old man in a new red cloak left the stables. But all were too happy to notice.
FIND MORE COOL STUFF ONLINE AT FLYINGSHIP.ORG!
Photography Exhibition! Send us your digital images or prints! The next issue of Flying Ship will feature a special photography section. Grab your camera and get creative! See page 15 for submission guidelines.
4 11 12 5
6 13 7
10 14 9
Down 1. Worn on the feet 3. _______chocolate 4. Snow_______ 6. My______are chattering 9. _________ down the hill 10. Worn around the neck 11. Brings you up the ski slope (two words) 17. Chicken _______ soup 18. Kissing plant
Across 2. Aurora Borealis 4. _______the Snow Man 5. Ice ________ 7. Never lose their needles 8. Snow shoe ______(plural) 12. Worn on the head 13. Downhill and Cross Country 14. Snow man buttons 15. School is canceled because of weather 13
16. Walking in a winter_________ 18. Worn on the hand (singular)
Stumped? Find the solution at flyingship.org. â– â—?
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I Am From Poems By the 4th Grade class of Eloise Ginty, Marion Cross School, Norwich, Vermont Teaching writing is my favorite thing to do. Watching students become confident and enthusiastic about writing is my reward. I try to provide a lot of scaffolding so that they can develop as writers one step at a time. Flying Ship has played a wonderful role in my writing instruction as it has given a possible, real audience to their final pieces of work. Students become critical of their own work as they strive to produce the best they can with the hope of having it published in a real magazine. I want to thank the three staff members of Flying Ship for offering this opportunity to my 4th grade students. — Eloise Ginty
By Peter Huizenga
By Maxwell Joseph Munafo
I am from the bouncing soccer ball going thud thud on the floor I am from the couch going squeak squeak when it is jumped on I am from the TV going blah blah blah when you click the remote I am from the swing going swish swoosh in the wind I am from the leaves going crunch crunch when you step on them I am from my brother saying “Don’t touch my stuff ” I am from my Grandma’s kind heart I am from my mom’s warm arms and my dad’s kind voice I am from the windows slamming I am from my mom yelling “STOP FIGHTING” at the top of her lungs I am from the potato chip going crunch crunch yum when you stick one in your mouth I am from the pound cake going mmmmm that’s good when you eat it I am from my warm bed where I rest my head on the pillow and fall asleep I am from the lake where you tube and play on the lake trampoline I am from the soccer field where you kick the ball into the goal I am from the hockey rink where you shoot the puck and it hits the netting and the buzzer sounds it’s a goal! I am from the laughter and joy in everyone’s HEART
I am from the barking of my dogs, the rumble of my dad’s kiln, and my mom typing for her work.
I am from the woods outside my house, and the cold in the morning when I ride my bike to school. I am from dad’s peach tart that smells like flowers and my mom’s apple tart that smells like, well, apples! I am from Maine with the rumble of the sea, Vermont where I grew up, and Lithuania where my ancestors are from. I am from feeling very, very, very, very, very, very, very happy!!! (and sometimes sad)
By Asa Burgess Berolzheimer I am from my cozy bedroom with soft pillows I am from my black cat, Night Star, with white paws and cute face and the sounds of his “meows” and my sister’s cat, Lady Gray I am from my purple couch with its comfy pillows I am from big, wonderful chapter books with adventures and mysteries in them I am from my hammock made of rope, hanging gracefully under the crabapple tree ...Continued at flyingship.org!
PUBLISH YOUR WORK!
HOW DO WE SELECT WHICH SUBMISSIONS TO PUBLISH?
We welcome your submissions! If you are between the ages of 6 and 14 you are eligible to have your work published in a future issue of Flying Ship. Our editors will review your work and let you know if there is a place for it in Flying Ship, either in the printed magazine or on the website. Just about any creative work is acceptable. It must be original—created by you and not copied from anywhere else. Here are some suggestions for things to submit: • Short stories — 2000 words or less (about two typed pages). We particularly like illustrated stories! • Poetry • Reviews of your favorite book • Artwork — drawings, paintings, collage, photography, sculpture—you name it! • Jokes or short comic strips • Riddles • Recipes • Games or puzzles • Mazes, crossword puzzles, word searches, hidden pictures drawings • Anything you think would look good in Flying Ship Magazine!
Although a specific contest (art, illustrated short stories, etc.) may be part of certain issues, the general content of Flying Ship is not a competition. Selection of contributions is based on a number of criteria (see flyingship.org/submit). It is also important to recognize that we keep all submitters’ work on file. Even if we do not publish certain pieces in the upcoming issue, we may still publish them in a future issue.
Please include a Parental Permission Form and a Submission Form with your work (available at flyingship.org/submit). Mail submissions to: Flying Ship Magazine, PO Box 1159, Norwich, VT 05055 or email to email@example.com.
If you would like your work returned to you, please include a self-addressed, stamped envelope. BE SURE TO INCLUDE YOUR NAME, AGE, AND TOWN OF RESIDENCE.
SCHOOL CITATION POLICY When we publish an item which was submitted to us by a student’s school or teacher, it is our policy to print the name of the school/teacher along with the student’s name in the publication. If a published item was not submitted by a teacher, we print only the name of the student who created it.
THE DEADLINE FOR THE MARCH ISSUE IS JANUARY 21, 2008.
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