Squiggle Stories!

 

I love this project!  The students pick out a randomly drawn, computer-generated squiggle line, and create a picture out of it.  They then use the 5 W's and an H to story map their ideas:

WHO is in their picture

WHAT is happening

WHERE it is happening

WHEN it is happening

WHY it is happening (the basic story line)

HOW the story ends

I love how each squiggle line is seen uniquely through the eyes of different students.  No two ever turn out alike!  Enjoy these samples!

Mr. Snaily

by Ryan (4th grade)

Once upon a time (because all stories have to begin with an “once upon a time” ), there was a snail. This snail’s name was Mr. Snaily. He was a very normal and boring snail, but someone still wanted that snail. That person wanted the snail very, very much. Why did he want the snail? Because that man was a French chef and he wanted to have a dish of escargot for dinner. He was still looking for the perfect snail and it was already noon and he was very tired. Suddenly, he spotted something in the brush. It was a snail! It was an amazing, glorious, wonderful, excellent, beautiful snail! 

Meanwhile, Mr. Snaily was in the brush reading the New Snail Times. He saw a section about humans and he started to read. “A human has recently escaped from the land of France and is currently in America. It is rumored that he is looking for a snail to have for dinner. If you live in the land of America, we urge you to immediately hide” Mr. Snaily said, “Gee, this is a horrible disaster, I must hide immediately!” 

All of a sudden, a net came through the shrub and enclosed Mr. Snaily. 

“Yes!”, said the French Chef. 

“NO!” said Mr. Snaily.

Mr. Snaily was in a box while the French Chef boiled the water. Mr. Snaily said, “I must escape! Now how do I do that? Hmmm....” 

Suddenly Mr. Snaily spotted a hole in the box. It was just about his size. He squirmed and squiggled and pushed and POP! He was free!

Before I tell you the next part of the story, I have to tell you something else. So basically, This French Chef was very weird, so he dug a giant hole in his house. Why did he do that? I don’t know. He just did. Anyways, back to the story…

Mr. Snaily was working across the floor when the French Chef looked over his shoulder. He saw the cooking pots, he saw his cat, he saw the snail in the basket, he saw the chess set… Wait! Where was the snail?

 He looked at his cat once more and saw the snail slowly slithering across the floor. He said to himself, “Well, this should be easy, snails are very slow so I am sure that it will not hurt if I let it crawl for a bit more.” Then, he said, “ I probably should just catch him, its better to be safe than sorry,” so he walked over to the snail and bent down… Crash! The French Chef fell into his own hole and banged his head. He tried to get out, but the hole was too deep and he kept falling down. 

So that is the end of this story. If you are wondering what happened to the French Chef, I think he is still stuck in that hole, unable to get out.  

The End

The Four Mountains

by Carissa (4th grade)

Once upon a time in Hawaii, four mountains lived on an island. It had been 75 years since Grandpa Monty had grown here. His daughter Monica has lived here with him for 45 years, since she was a baby. Her two daughters, Hermona and Adrija, have been on this island since they were born.

 And me?- I’m the island they live on.  My name is Konoha. I was originally a lonely volcano in the middle of the ocean. But over the years, I gained four friends and am no longer alone.

  The story  all started when little Hermona noticed something

 “Grandpa Monty look! The sunrise! Isn’t it pretty, Grandpa?”

“Well, look at that!  It's beautiful Hermona! It reminds me of the sunset I saw the day your mother formed right next to me on this island.”

“What did it look like, Grandpa Monty?”

“Well Adrija, it looked like cotton candy, fluffy and soft. The colors, oh the beautiful colors!  There were pinks, and purples, blues, and oranges. And finally my favorite, it was all the colors mixed together. They weren’t an ugly brown, but they mixed together so perfectly it was as if it was the light of life! And that’s what I think of to feel calm. The sunset is what I think about when I am upset. And guess what?”

“What?” they both asked eagerly.

“Now those sunsets are you. You are now those sunsets. That’s what you do for me. You make me feel calm and feel love.”

“Aww thanks, Dad. I think you just made their day!” said Monica, Adrija and Hermona’s mother, as she lay down and fell asleep first. 

“Where do sunsets come from? And how were they made?” asked Hermona to their grandpa.

“Well, I don’t know where they come from,” he replied.

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!” both girls moaned.

“But I do know that wherever they come from, that place is very special.” he said as he stared at them with care, and love.

“Did we come where they came from?” asked Adrija. “Cause hypothetically that couldn’t be possible.  The sky is made of air molecules and so are clouds, I think. But we are made out of dirt, rocks, and plants-unless that those things are made out of air molecules… Wait…. so we're clouds!?”

“No of course not. Here, let me tell you a story of where we come from and how I came to be.”

“I began my life on the ocean floor. Each day I rose a little bit higher. I soon began to see fish, coral, and other sea life beside me.  As I got closer to the surface of the water, I could see the bright sun and the beautiful clear sky. Finally, most of my mountain body was above the water. 

Slowly I could feel something hot bubbling inside of me. The hot earth inside of me erupted and lava began to come out. During my early years, I had erupted once or twice before. I formed on this island and became the home of plants, trees, flowers and living creatures.“

“Then one peaceful morning, I saw another small mountain form next to me on my island, and can you guess who that was?” he asked Adrija and Hermona

“It was our mom, wasn’t it?” Arija asked knowingly.  

“A UNICORN!” exclaimed Hermona.

“Yes, it was your mother. And a few years later, you two formed here, and became part of our family. And that is how we came to be!” said Grandpa Monty, smiling at his wonderful beautiful family.

And that is how the beautiful mountains made my island their home and brought life and love to this place. Remember me? It’s me, Konoha. I love this story because it’s about how I met my friends. I really hope that you enjoyed it.

The Plight of Skrew-Nail

by Claire (6th grade)

“SKREW-NAIL! NOO!” I shouted, horror washing over me as well as-

Hold up. Hi. My name is Hooky, I am a hook, and can we just ignore the part above? I may have made a little mistake with the editing. In the meantime, let’s rewind.

The day started out as the best day ever. At least, for us tools. Carpenter’s Day normally doesn’t spark extreme excitement amongst our fellow human citizens, but it’s a very toolish holiday. Many celebrations were already underway in the Toolshed, and my best friend Skrew-Nail the screw and I were attending one taking place in our own Toolbox when she came. 

The local carpenter’s daughter.

She’s actually quite nice, and very caring. She loves her father very much, and has learned much carpentry from him. However, her appearance at the Toolshed on Carpenter’s Day was a mystery to us tools. 

“What’s she doing here?” Whispered Skrew-Nail worriedly the moment the door to the shed swung open, further illustrating my point above. 

“No clue,” I whispered back. All eyes were on the girl as she entered the dusty room and looked around. And then, she seemed to be looking straight at us. 

“Oh my drill, does she see us?” gasped Skrew-Nail, ducking down out of sight.

“I don’t think so…” I responded uncertainly, watching as

she came closer to our box. 

“She’s coming this way…” began Skrew-Nail. 

All of a sudden, a hand plunged into our box, sending tools

scattering every which way. 

Skrew-Nail and I were separated as the Great Tsunami of Carpenter’s Day continued. And then the hand closed on my thin metal body and I was pulled into the air and shaken vigorously. I had barely begun to call for help when I was dropped back into the Toolbox. 

I sighed in relief as I hit the Toolbox floor with a clatter, but my relief was short-lasting. Almost a second later, Skrew-Nail was snatched up instead. 

I can still hear her cries today. I tried to save her, but really, what did you expect a hook like me to do? I only did one thing, and that was panic . Which brings us to this:

“SKREW-NAIL! NOO!” I shouted, horror washing over me as well as a horrid, sickly feeling of uselessness. I couldn’t do anything, and my best friend was being taken right at this second. Before I could scream anything else, the carpenter’s daughter pulled Skrew-Nail and her hand out of sight. 

That was perhaps the most depressing Carpenter’s Day in the history of Carpenter’s Days. No one in our Toolbox felt much like celebrating after Skrew-Nail was taken, and I certainly didn’t either. In the days that followed, I always hoped that the carpenter would take me out of the Toolbox and bring me into the world so that perhaps I could learn what happened to Skrew-Nail. However, no such day has come, and I have lost all hope. 

I later discovered that the carpenter’s daughter had used Skrew-Nail to make a quaint chair for her father. All I can say is, I hope Skrew-Nail is living happily, because I will never see her again-

Wait! Is that a hand I see coming to grab...ME?! Goodbye, all! I am on my way to the outside world and to Skrew-Nail!