My Best Writing Field Trip Ever
My best writing field trip wasn't the one that was the most fun when it happened, nor the one that produced the best published chapter as a result. It was the one that gave me the best material for school visits, from which I have squeezed out every droplet of benefit for many happy years.
It was the time my writer friend Leslie and I spent an afternoon together trying to explode a pickle.
As I was writing Fractions = Trouble! I knew the book would have a science-fair subplot.
I adore science fairs, and to date I have at least three published books where I managed to work one into the story. So off I trotted to my sons' former elementary school on the day of the science fair, notebook in hand, to record the funniest, weirdest, craziest science projects on display. I gave a squeal of joy at this one, where a fifth-grade boy set out to answer the question: "At what temperature does a pickle explode?"
I drafted the chapter where Wilson and his best friend Josh try- and fail - to explode the pickle and then shared it with my writing group. They loved the premise, but not the execution. They wanted more details involving the pickle: what did it look like? smell like? sound like? Alas, I had to confess I had no further details to offer, because I myself had never tried to explode a pickle. "Oh," they said. "You need to do that."
But. . . but . . .
"Come over to my house," Leslie offered. "We'll explode it there."
I bought a big jar of pickles and presented myself at Leslie's door.
We put pickle number one in the oven and cranked up the heat: 350 degrees, 400, 450, 500, and then finally 550 degrees, as hot as an oven could go. The pickle turned black. He began to smoke. When we finally rescued him, he weighed absolutely nothing, as all the water had evaporated out of him. He was a mere hollow pickle skeleton.
We put pickle number two in a pot of water and boiled him for an hour. He came out fresh as a daisy, not at all minding a pleasant soak in the pickle hot tub.
Then we put pickle number three in the microwave and set the timer for twenty minutes, during which time the pickle turned gray and pimply, lost all his moisture to evaporation. . . and shorted out the microwave, which ended up requiring a $200 repair.
But now I had my pickle details for the book! AND the favorite story, by far, of all I share during school assemblies. In fact, it was a kid in one assembly who gave me the line about the pickle hot tub, which has become the biggest laugh line in the program.
Here are the three pickles in all their glory.
It was the time my writer friend Leslie and I spent an afternoon together trying to explode a pickle.
As I was writing Fractions = Trouble! I knew the book would have a science-fair subplot.
I adore science fairs, and to date I have at least three published books where I managed to work one into the story. So off I trotted to my sons' former elementary school on the day of the science fair, notebook in hand, to record the funniest, weirdest, craziest science projects on display. I gave a squeal of joy at this one, where a fifth-grade boy set out to answer the question: "At what temperature does a pickle explode?"
I drafted the chapter where Wilson and his best friend Josh try- and fail - to explode the pickle and then shared it with my writing group. They loved the premise, but not the execution. They wanted more details involving the pickle: what did it look like? smell like? sound like? Alas, I had to confess I had no further details to offer, because I myself had never tried to explode a pickle. "Oh," they said. "You need to do that."
But. . . but . . .
"Come over to my house," Leslie offered. "We'll explode it there."
I bought a big jar of pickles and presented myself at Leslie's door.
We put pickle number one in the oven and cranked up the heat: 350 degrees, 400, 450, 500, and then finally 550 degrees, as hot as an oven could go. The pickle turned black. He began to smoke. When we finally rescued him, he weighed absolutely nothing, as all the water had evaporated out of him. He was a mere hollow pickle skeleton.
We put pickle number two in a pot of water and boiled him for an hour. He came out fresh as a daisy, not at all minding a pleasant soak in the pickle hot tub.
Then we put pickle number three in the microwave and set the timer for twenty minutes, during which time the pickle turned gray and pimply, lost all his moisture to evaporation. . . and shorted out the microwave, which ended up requiring a $200 repair.
But now I had my pickle details for the book! AND the favorite story, by far, of all I share during school assemblies. In fact, it was a kid in one assembly who gave me the line about the pickle hot tub, which has become the biggest laugh line in the program.
Here are the three pickles in all their glory.
So hooray for field trips - not only because they improve our writing, but because they can enrich our school visits, too.
Love this...isn't it fun how we often learn best by "getting our hands - or pickles dirty".
ReplyDeleteHa!
Delete:) Hilarious. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThis is so fun! Pickles seem indestructable!
ReplyDeleteKids at the school visits then suggest dynamite...
Delete