Using the 5 Senses for Writing: Explain Candy to an Alien!

 After Halloween was over and the students had plenty of time to enjoy their candy, my older students did a fun assignment on the concept of "Show not Tell" and using the five senses to write sensory details about our favorite candy. I posed this question: If an alien came down from outer space and you were asked to describe your favorite candy to a being who has never seen or tasted it, could you do it? 

My students came up with a clever beginning in story-telling form, to explain how they encountered an alien in the first place. Then they went on to describe their candy of choice. Some students wrote about their favorites, while others wrote about the gummy Lifesavers I brought in to inspire them (there are LOTS of sensory details about gummy Lifesavers, by the way!)

Alien's Lifesaver, by Diba (5th grade)

        One day at my mansion, an alien named Al-ien said, "What are you eating, Human?"

        I said, "This is a strawberry Lifesaver, but it can't save my life. It can save yours though."

        Al-ien said, "Well, what is it?"

        I answered, "This strawberry Lifesaver has a wrapper. When you open it, it is loud and crunchy, and when you eat it, it sounds chewy."

        "It looks round like a donut. It is a neon reddish pink. It even has the words 'Lifesavers' on it."

        "It smells like a Red-40 medicine. I can't forget the fact that it is very, very artifically flavored. I can even smell it."

        "It tastes sweet with a gummy texture. It tastes like a strawberry flavored piece of plastic."

        Al-ien respoded, "I don't want it anymore. Good bye!"

        I can't say I blame him.

.... So I Sold an Alien a Lifesaver, by Adrian (6th grade)

        Ahhhh... November 1st. I mean, Halloween is great and all, hanging out with friends, getting candy and all that. But November 1st, that's when it pays off. I have so much candy it'll all go stale by the time I get halfway through. What a waste, is it not? Why wait around with so much loot just for it to expire in a month? Why not sell it?

        So here I am on quite a plentiful November 1st, outside the school selling yesterday's sweets to hungry students. I see a figure moving towards me. Must be a customer, I think. But as this consumer gets closer, I see an oddness in his skin; it almost looks green.

        "Greetings, Scrawny Earthling," says the weird man with a voice that almost sounds like musical notes. "I, Zaphod Beeblox from Beetleguese 4 would like to make a purchase." He scans my selection with his red eyes. "One of those things please." One of his 24 fingers points towards a pack of Lifesaver gummies, one of the less valued items due to the fact that NO ONE LIKES THEM.

        "You sure?" I ask in a bit of disgust. "One of those?"

        "Of course, foolish carbon-based life form!" The alien chuckles grimly. "Now, give me ten of those things and I may spare you from your planet's inevitable vaporization."

        "What?"

        "Now, what are these 'Lifesavers?'"

        "Ummm...." I say, dumbfounded. "Well..."

        "Earthling, Earthling," the alien scolds, "with those giant ears you have, can't you tell me how they sound?"

        "I mean... the werapper sounds kinda crinkly, and when you open the bag it sounds like a 'rippp.'"

        "Hmmm... very good Earthling," the alien purrs. "Now how do these Lifesavers look?"

        "Is this some sort of trick question?"

        "No."

        "Oh, okay," I mumble. "They're multi-colored and I guess they almost look like little donuts."

        "Donuts?" questions the alien.

        "Not important," I respond. "They're also transluscent."

        "How do these things feel?"

        "They're squishy," I respond, "and sticky, and bumpy, and gummy, and soft, and dry."

        The alien purrs again.

        "You happy now?" I ask.

        "Just tell me how they smell!" insists the alien.

        "They just smell like a bunch of sugar."

        "I can tell you don't like the smell, how about the taste?"

        "All they taste like is some dusty plastic, artificially flavored with like ten gallons of Red-40--" I get cut off by sirens in the distance.

        "Oh no!" yelps the alien. "It is NASA! I need to go!"

        As the alien hops on a UFO to escape, I start to rethink my life choices...

Alien Burglar On Oct. 31

by Chuyu (6th grade)

I have had a very bad time with burglars. Candy burglars,  coming every once a year. I leave a large blue bowl out and put up a massive sign to take ONE, but these thieves always take as many as they please. This year, I coded my ring camera to detect how many candies they took. I routed it to one of my extra sirens so that the siren would howl when they took more than one. I was anxious and excited to see and scare the trick-or-treaters that took more than the board said. 

First came a boy with a dragon costume. He took one of my M&M packets. I shook my head in disgust. Everyone knows that Twix are the best! 

         The next person came about an hour later. He was in a bright green suit with big black eyes. A spectacular Alien costume, I thought. My joy immediately evaporated from my body as the siren started beeping. “That stealing rascal!” I thought. 

I immediately leaped out of my doorway to face the burglar. He turned to stare at me, his eyes large with fear. “It’s not what you think!” he cried.

 I sneered at him and replied, “What excuse are you going to make up, that you were sleepwalking?” 

“I’m an actual alien! I was banished by my group and was slingshotted here!” 

“ Fat chance!” I replied with disgust. “You’re nothing but a little thief.” 

“This isn’t a costume!! I’m a real alien!” the person said.

 “Show me!” I screamed. 

Suddenly, I heard the ground rumble. A strike of lightning flashed the ground and it flew upward. The green grass crumpled and turned brown. The dirt flew back into the ground and the alien glided back to the door. 

“You believe me now?”

 “Uhh …. Ye - e -e ea?” I sputtered.

 “Anyways, which of these candies are the best? I saw people eating it and I didn’t know which one was best,” the alien said. 

“It is obviously Twix™!” I pointed at the golden wrapper.

 “What is it like to eat it?” he asked. 

“Oh, don’t get me started. The wrapper opens with a heavenly crunch, like stepping on a pile of dead maple leaves. It sounds like firecrackers exploding on New Year’s Eve. There is a small tearing sound also.”

I stopped to take a breath. “The top feels bumpy and it feels brittle yet strong. The bottom however, feels smooth, contrasting the bumps on the top. When you break it open, you see a layer of smooth, creamy caramel on top of a crunchy wafer. All of it is surrounded by a layer of creamy chocolate. ”

“The smell of a Twix™ bar is unmatched in all of heaven and earth. It smells sweet, the flavor of the caramel and chocolate blending beautifully.”

“The taste is even better. The caramel and chocolate are now boasted by the buttery taste of the wafer. The Twix™ bar is truly majestic.” 

The alien gasped. “Can I try one?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed.

He tore open the wrapper eagerly and quickly scarfed down the whole bar. 

“This is just as delicious as you said it was. Can I bring some home to give to my family?”

I beckoned him inside and opened a large refrigerator. Inside were neat stacks of Twix bars, shining like a beautiful heavenly gift. 

“Take all you want,” I said.

He quickly took out a beautiful blue bag and threw about 50 Twix bars inside. He thanked me quickly and left my house. 

I sighed with relief. I met an alien, and did not get killed. Thank God. 

                                      My Encounter With a Fun, Curious Alien, by Jojo (6th grade) 

It was the night of October 31st, and several trick or treaters lined the streets, their feet pounding on the sleek, cool pavement. Neon, colorful lights lined each house, and scary, frightening creatures loomed in the yard. Excitement and anticipation filled the air, as if a dangerous monster was hiding in the shadows. 

As the night went on, I lay on my comfy, cozy couch, watching a movie. Suddenly, I jumped in fright. A DING-DONG burst like an alarm. I had not heard the doorbell ring all night, as I had a candy bowl outside where trick-or- treaters could acquire the candy without bothering me.

 I flew to the door, and opened it. Standing at my steps was a tiny, green child dressed as an alien. He had a mask on, so I could not see his face. “Hello there! Is there a problem with the candy?” I asked calmly. 

“Um, what is this?” The child spoke in a blurred voice, with a soft lisp. He held a sparkly, shiny candy bar, and I immediately recognized it for my favorite candy, Twix!

 “Oh, this is only the best candy in the world! You really don’t know what Twix is?” My mind became utterly confused, as I had never met someone who had not heard of this fabulous, spectacular candy. 

“No, I have not,” he murmured. I wondered why he was so shy, as he was talking in a very quiet, respectful voice, and I could not understand him well. 

“Well, I will explain it to you, as I do know a lot about Twix.” I spoke triumphantly. “Twix is an amazing, excellent candy bar. It consists of chocolate, caramel and a scrumptious wafer. I have one here right now.” I held up the sparkling, golden wrapper. I opened the wrapper, and a thousand sounds exploded in my ears. “Do you hear that? That is the crinkly, calm sound of Twix. It reminds me of fireworks popping on the Fourth of July, and walking through a park in the fall, with a bed of dead leaves crunching under my feet.” 

“Ooh.” The alien gently stroked the Twix, listening for the sounds of the symphony that I had described. “I can hear the sounds!” he exclaimed with a hint of joy in his voice. 

“That’s not all. I have not yet described the feeling of touching a Twix. Once you stroke the surface of the candy bars, you will feel many different textures. It is smooth and firm, with little indents crawling over the top, like ants on a log.” I closed my eyes, and felt the little grooves on the top of the bar. 

“Ah, I feel the ants.” The child spoke with happiness, and I knew he was enjoying my description. 

“There’s more. When I spot a Twix, my mouth immediately waters. I will describe the sight of a Twix, now.” I felt joyful and content, happy that the alien was interested in my topic. 

“Enveloped around a buttery, soft wafer of a Twix, is soft, velvety chocolate, with gooey soft caramel tucked inside.” I smiled at the alien, and he smiled happily back at me. 

I leaned in closer to the alien, and held up the candy bar. “Smell it. You can feel and taste all the flavors.” The alien put his nose to the wrapper, and sighed in content. “I sense many different ingredients.” 

“Yes, there are various flavors in this candy bar. I smell creamy, rich hints of cocoa butter and velvety chocolate, just by sensing the top of the bar.” 

“Tell me more!” the alien squeaked happily, his pleads growing larger as every minute went by. 

“Alright, I will tell you one more thing about the fabulous Twix bar.” I grinned. “Lastly, I will explain the taste of a Twix. As soon as you bite down on this bar, you taste the scrumptious layers of wafer to caramel, and caramel to chocolate. The buttery, crisp wafer is tucked inside gooey caramel and thick chocolate, which creates a symphony of flavors when you bite down. It is flaky, gooey, and mouthwatering.” I peered at the alien. “Would you like to try one?” I spoke kindly. 

“Yes, please!!! The alien squealed in delight, and joyfully took the Twix bar I handed him. As soon as the alien had bit down on the bar, he cried out ecstatically. “It is amazing!” The alien jumped up and down, amazed at the delicious bar. 

As I watched him jumping up and down, I grew very happy. Content, I walked back to my house, delighted to have made someone's day.

Pumpkin Personification and Show Not Tell Writing

 This is always a favorite of my students. Mine too! The goal is to personify a pumpkin, and then reflect on an aspect of pumpkin life. From pollination, to admiring one's garden, to the sting of getting plucked from the vine, and of course the agony of carving and baking, there is so much to write about a pumpkin's life this time of year! The goal in this assignment is to appeal to the reader's five senses and truly SHOW not TELL what it looks like, sounds like, feels like, smells like, and perhaps even tastes like to be a pumpkin at Halloween time! We guarantee, you'll never view pumpking growing, carving, or baking the same!!

A Pumpkin Story, by Benny (3rd grade)

        I'm going to tell you about a grumpy old pumpkin who got carved.... and it was me!

        First, they cut off my head and stabbed me! I felt excruciating pain that wouldn't stop! They used a spoon to scrape out my seeds, and then they threw them away! Noooo, why?! Next they used a black thing to draw on my skin. After that, I looked so creepy with my big smile, I almost fainted. Then they used a scary knife and carved my face out. Owwwww, it felt terrible!

        Finally, I was free and it was time to relax. Wait... no, they put fire in me! Hot hot hot!!

        I am still burning hot, but all the kids seem to like me. I guess I look silly, but I make people happy!

The Life of a Baby Pumpkin

By Dora (4th grade)

You have no idea how terrible being a baby pumpkin is. My name is Dora, and I am a green baby pumpkin. I live in an old garden. My great great great great grandmother once lived here. Well, that's what my mother said. It is the first day of July. 

My day started out with me wishing for adulthood. Every morning these stupid, annoying bees come. The huge bees roar over me, looking like black and white striped helicopters with stingers. Whenever the bees touch me, it feels like a snake is poking and biting me. The sound of the buzzing gives me goosebumps.  I try to cover my ears, but I realize I don’t have arms. Mother always says, “When bees come they give you pollination, and then you will grow.”  I would always listen because I want to be an adult! 

Ethan, my best pumpkin buddy, and I were talking happily in on this breezy day, but then the bees came. I thought it was for me, but they went to Ethan. Ethan exclaimed, “I like to get pollinated, it feels really good!” I nearly exploded into pieces as my vines tingled! I started to sweat. I literally fainted!

When I came to, Ethan was there staring at me. Then he started to weep. I said really softly, “Ethan I am fine.”  Ethan whimpered, “That’s good. I was worried about you!”

I hate being a baby pumpkin, but hopefully after this pollination is done, I will soon be an adult pumpkin!

Pumpkin Bread, by Juney (4th grade)

Hello. Are you a human? Ugh. I have learned the hard way that I can NOT trust you. I was a pretty, orange pumpkin before I was turned into some sort of bread (I think) by your type. Anyways, let me tell you about that now.

First, the little girl who plucked me from my patch of friends, said some gibberish to her mother, and soon I was sitting on a wooden kitchen counter. They went looking for some stuff in cupboards, and I took my chance to escape. But the girl caught me and the mother put sugar and flour and seeds beside me. Those ingredients are very useless compared to me. So of ourselves, I ignored everything sugar asked me.

After that horrible experience, the humans did ANOTHER terrible thing. They scooped out my guts! Don't they know how weird that felt? I was taken apart but still alive!

Then, the annoying girl put MY insides into a metal tin with the other foods. And we went into a really hot room! I could've caught on fire and died!

 Finally, they pulled me out of the sauna and ate half of me! How coudl they just throw out my earlier beauty? Although, I do admit, I taste pretty good. But I'm still mad here, Human!

Okay, I don't like how I look, yet I'm very yummy. And I know to stay away from you, even though I'll always LOVE how you put me on display.

The Carving, by Aletheia (5th grade)

I am a pumpkin, sitting on the kitchen table, just taken home by my new people. I watch my surroundings, excited for Halloween to come and for me to be put out with my other friends, content and happy, on the porch of somebody’s house. I can see everything: the knife slices in the cutting board, the sunlight bleeding through the crack in the curtains, and somebody calling somebody else over, looking directly at me.

I watch as the two people come over, and as the smaller person glances behind her shoulder, towards the taller one, she asks them something. I long to hear, to hear the birds chirp, to hear the rivers flow, to hear the words and questions they say. The smaller person nods, replies, and picks up a sharpie. They start to draw on me, black ink spilling onto my smooth, round skin. I strain to see what they’re drawing on me, but I can just watch, as I am too heavy to move myself unless somebody else moves me for me.

The other person high-fives and smiles at the shorter one as they lift the dark pen from my flesh. I start to worry as they grab a shiny, sharp object from a block made out of wood. I realize that the shiny, sharp object is a knife, and suddenly, I’m back at the pumpkin ranch, an already-carved pumpkin describing how they got carved. It went exactly like what was happening to me now: getting traced, getting stabbed, and then getting put out on a cold, hard surface, for all other pumpkins to see.

I start to see red as the knife blade, dripping with pumpkin guts, shines in the fluorescent, artificial kitchen lights. It punctures my flesh, and I want to cry out, I want to tell them to stop, but nothing can come out of my mouth. They cut out the top of my head, each stab more piercing and painful than the last. Opening the top, they start to scoop out my guts, the only thing inside of me, the only thing keeping me alive. I feel as though I’ve died, even though I can still see. Everything hurts, especially as they start to carve out my eyes, nose, and mouth, even though with those now, I still cannot speak, scream, or do anything to make them stop this excruciating pain.

Suddenly, the tingling sensation of the knife slicing through disappears, but the pain is still there, just slightly, like a reminder of what had happened, only that it never went away. Not when they take me off the counter, not when they carry me across the house, not when they place me on the porch. Next to me sits small, untouched pumpkins, in an array of colors including white, yellow, orange, and even green. I’m jealous of them, sitting peacefully, unaware of the troubles of being a big pumpkin, perfect for carving for Halloween. 

Happy Halloween, and I hope you get some candy.

Marlo (5th grade) has a gift for poetry, and she wrote her story of a pumpkin's view of autumn as a lovely poem with AABB rhyme scheme.

Pumpkin Pie, by Elena (6th grade)

How could they? All I saw was a sparkly silver wall. But all I felt was confusion and anger.

Earlier that very day, the humans picked me up from my lovely counter spot, saying, “Sugar pie, orange, very good for pie”. Then they scooped me out into this silver place. For a week, I had lived on my counter, all comfy.  Now here I was, sitting all alone in a scary and monstrous silvery bowl. I thought my family loved me, but I guess not.

Soon enough, the stupid humans entered and started yapping loudly. Then a soft pattering filled my ears. Slowly,  white, brown, and light brown specks started falling on me. They danced and twirled until they settled on my orange body.  They were all a lot smaller than me and definitely more talkative. “Hi! I'm sugar,” chittered a white speck. The brown ones were called cinnamon, and the light browns were nutmegs. 

Just as we got to a comfortable talking place, a dark, spooky shadow was cast over us. Before we had time to escape or even move, the shadow turned red and stabbed us. It pushed us around, squashed and mushed us. 

I felt sick, but that wasn't even close to the worst. The red thing retreated, but a mere second more, and then something slimy and wet washed over us. It was disgusting; all the extra space in the silver thing was taken up, then the red thing came again.

This time was even worse than the first. The slimy stuff splished and splooshed. I thought I was going to be sick. Then the red thing retreated.

Pink hands grabbed the silver thing we were in. They carried us somewhere, then put us down. Sticky hands picked my friends and me up and plopped us into a swirly swirly container that was way too small for us. I felt as though my lungs were going to explode from the pressure. 

I loathed humans. Why are they doing this? 

Right before I could move, a blue spoon injected me, and stayed there. It was a very weird feeling, and I felt my lungs tighten more.  Suddenly, the blue bowl we were in started spinning.  Around and around we went, so many times I lost count. Soon I felt my head grow light, and everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes, I was out of the blue bowl and in something soft, brown, and not very tall. I was moving, hands holding the brown wall. Then, a small door opened, and I was shoved inside.

It turned out to be quite warm, and quite quiet too. Warm air blasted me as the door closed, leaving me in utter darkness. But I didn’t mind. I felt peaceful, and I never wanted this to end.  But after a long time, I felt the brown wall harden. Then, I felt myself harden too. What’s happening? I thought, as I had never felt this way before. 

Suddenly, a dazzling light filled my eyes as the door to the warm room I was in opened.  Faces stared at me, and I wished I could close my eyes or move away. But I couldn’t move. Grey hands stretched towards me, but I didn’t want to go, especially to the bright light and creepy faces. 

Nooooooo! I thought, trying to pull away. But my efforts were nothing. I was pulled forward, away from the comfort, and onto a table with a dead turkey, potatoes, and some apple pie. 

All the ugly faces at the table smiled at me, and then gazed at a specific human. That human had a knife in his hand. A large, silver, glinting knife. 

My mama used to tell me stories, back when I was still at the patch. She told me happy stories, sad stories, scary ones, but the one I remember most, the one she was the most afraid to tell, was THE KNIFE STORY. She said that humans cut you up and end your life when you're on a table, and in something brown, and you're not able to move. 

That’s where I was now. And I was about to get sliced up. 

I knew that this was the end of my life, and that cruel humans were about to devour me. I thought about all the pumpkins and friends I have had in my life. Mama, daddy, grandma, sister, brother, the sugars, the nutmegs, and the cinnamon. Even though I desperately wanted to be away from the humans, be a full pumpkin again, be in my shell once more, I knew that today was the last day of my life, and that these were the last minutes of my life. 

Goodbye, I thought, as the gleaming knife stabbed into me, and I saw no more of the living world I once had loved.