Pumpkin Life: Show Not Tell

 As my students continued to practice the concept of Show Not Tell in their writing, they became a personified pumpkin a couple of weeks before Halloween.  Their job was to write a story about the last day of their life, with an emphasis on Show Not Tell writing styles.  How would it feel to be carved?  Baked?  Dropped?  Forgotten?  My students did such an amazing job with this that one of my students said, "I will never carve a pumpkin ever again after this assignment!  I feel too bad!"

Enjoy these entertaining stories!

The Dirty and Rotten Day I Die, by Zivah (5th grade)

        Here I am, sitting on a counter, ready to be carved by despicable humans.  I am wasting my life to be carved for this "fun" holiday called "Halloween."  It is like humans have no common sense at all.  Life is boring.  It always will be.

        As I grumble on the counter, a dwarf human approaches me.  "Look, a pumpkin!" 

        "Oh wow, how surprising," I say with obvious sarcasm.  It doesn't matter though.  No one can understand me.

        The tall and annoying human comes up to me.  "Time to carve this little pumpkin!" I say.  Don't call me "little," you hairy giant!  She smiles.  I start to ponder if humans have brains.

        With the sharp blade on the evil knife, the giant slices my head off.  The pain rushes to my face.  I see my sticky orange guts splatter on me.  My heart hurts even more than my head.  I feel my life has been snatched out of me.

        Once the despicable giant is done scooping my guts, they put some useless candle inside me.  Did I really lose my life to have a candle put inside me?  I want to say no.  The giant puts me on a crowded porch.

        The giant lights the candle in me.  Something happens.  I feel a change in my heart.  I smile.

        Halloween arrives, and everyone loves me.  I finally feel special.  "Look at the pumpkin!" says the dwarf kid.  Maybe life isn't boring.  Maybe you have to change the way you see it.

December 25: D-day, by Audrey (5th grade)

        At least I survived Halloween and Turkey Day. I’m glad that I wasn’t the big orange kind of pumpkin that everybody wanted to carve. On Turkey day, I was relieved when I wasn’t made into pie. Life would be fine if not a little bit boring. I was safe unlike my cousin, the squash, who got made into an appetizer.

        The living room table. Tell me about it. Uhhh! That navy blue color is so ugly, I would do anything to not be stuck there. Day after day, month after month, the children running by, the mother telling them to stop running. 

        The worst part was when the family started decorating for “red and green day”. They got it totally wrong! Nothing could go even worse.

        Dang it! I probably jinxed it. They started putting up a pine tree right in front of my eyes. It didn’t even look real! Even worse, they were putting red, green, and gold balls on the tree. For heaven's sake, gold. Seriously? GOLD out of all colors. 

        Interrupting my misery, suddenly horribly cheerful music blasted out of the kitchen. Oh, this day couldn’t get any worse! I tried to zone out but the music was just too loud. 

        Wait, did I just wake up from a nap? The sky was already dark. Now the family was eating ham and mush. That same cheerful music was playing again. That was definitely not music to my ears. 

        One moment later the children were up and running again. I think they were playing tag. They were running around the ugly blue table that I was on. Three short minutes later, the children were running so fast like the wind, I was afraid I was going to meet my death. I was right! The next thing I knew, I was tumbling off the table. 

        Those mere three seconds seemed like eternity. Oh the pain! I was pretty sure I broke 17 of my bones. All of my orange and gooey insides had become outsides and the children were screaming. Then the mother came over and picked me up and tossed me into an endless hole. I got quite dizzy when the mother tossed me into the pit of doom. When I finally hit the ground I was actually surprised I was cushioned by some rotten lettuce. I asked them where we were and they said something that sounded like smash jam. What?!

         Then I felt quite different. My brain was getting really fogged up. The last thing I comprehended was that I was in a smash jam which could also be called the endless hole of misery and death. At least I can get my boring life published in a journal. 

        Well, maybe.

(Check back for some younger author's stories!)