I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the bleakness of October than by reveling in it with Edgar Allan Poe. Seriously, is there a better time to teach Poe than October? (Okay, well, maybe in the “bleak December,” but I prefer happier stuff that month.) October is cold and dreary. The days are shorter; it’s darker longer. Classrooms are decorated with bats and ghosts and kids are itching for a good scare.

So, indulge yourself and turn off the classroom lights. Indulge the students and let them sit on the floor. If you’re lucky, the weather will cooperate and rain will pour down. If you’re really lucky, maybe you’ll get a little thunder and lightning, too! Then pass around the Poe and let your imaginations run wild.

But wait! Don’t stop there! You don’t have to let Poe be a one-day ghost story session. Okay, sure. You could frost cupcakes black for his birthday (which is today, October 2nd), but the bosses tend to frown on food in school these days. You could dress in a trench coat and pass out roses in honor of the anniversary of his death (which is October 7th), but I’m pretty sure those sorts of coats violate most dress codes. There is a way, though, to extend your visit into the über-creepy landscape of Edgar Allan Poe—one that doesn’t require a trip to A.C. Moore for specialty food coloring or silk flowers.

Here’s the idea: Together, with a lot of clarifying along the way, we read a few Poe pieces—my go-to favorites are “The Cask of Amontillado” and “The Tell-Tale Heart” for short stories, and “The Raven” and “Annabelle Lee” for poetry. After several days interacting with Poe, I ask students to identify some of the characteristics of his writing. Generally, they come up with things like:

• lots of adjectives and adverbs
• lots of verbs
• repetition
• lots of dashes
• big words
• figurative language
• all-caps
• talks to the reader
• creepy subject

Then, as a class, we write a starter paragraph in a mysterious setting using the first person point of view. Once we’ve done that, students apply each of the following steps. (I’ve condensed the steps for you below, but if you’d like the full handout, email me at mzcotillo@gmail.com and I’ll happily share with you.) After writing a class model, students attempt to fly solo.

STARTER PARAGRAPH

It was early evening in late November. I was working late and feeling sorry for myself. Everyone else had gone home so I was alone in the office. I popped a bag of microwave popcorn for “dinner,” and got a soda out of the vending machine. I was walking back to my office along the empty hallway when I thought I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, but there was no one there.

SAME PARAGRAPH, BUT APPLYING CHARACTERISTIC #1: USE LOTS OF ADJECTIVES AND ADVERBS

I was working terribly late and feeling horribly, pitifully sorry for myself.

photo: odd sock via photopin

SAME PARAGRAPH, BUT APPLYING CHARACTERISTIC #2: USE MORE THAN ONE VERB AT A TIME

I was strolling, walking slowly and quietly back to my office along the deserted hallway when I thought, I imagined, I heard the faintest brush of footsteps behind me

SAME PARAGRAPH, BUT APPLYING CHARACTERISTIC #3: REPEAT YOURSELF

I was utterly alone, alone in the empty office. …Quickly I turned and looked, but there was no one there. No one there.

SAME PARAGRAPH, BUT APPLYING CHARACTERISTIC #4: USE DASHES

I was walking slowly and quietly back to my office—along the deserted hallway when I thought—I imagined—I heard the faintest brush of footsteps behind me.

BREAK OUT THE THESAURUS FOR CHARACTERISTIC #5: USE BIG WORDS

I was laboring—toiling—terribly late and feeling horribly, pitifully sorry for myself. All and sundry had gone—flown home.

ADDING A SENTENCE WITH CHARACTERISTIC #6: USE FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

The late November night was as dark and cold as the devil’s heart.

EMPHASIZE WORDS WITH CHARACTERISTIC #7: USE ALL-CAPS

I was UTTERLY alone, alone in the vacant office. … Hastily I turned and looked, but there was no one there. NO ONE THERE.

ADDRESS YOUR AUDIENCE DIRECTLY WITH CHARACTERISTIC #8: TALK TO THE READER

I was strolling—walking as slowly and quietly as a THIEF back to my office—along the hallway as desolate as the winter sky when I thought—you will say I imagined—I thought heard the faintest brush of footsteps behind me.

FINAL PRODUCT, EMPHASIZING CHARACTERISTIC #9: THE CREEPY SUBJECT

The late November night was as dark and cold as the devil’s heart. I was laboring—toiling—terribly late and feeling horribly, PITIFULLY sorry for myself. All and sundry had flown home to warm and welcoming nests. Everyone else had gone. I was UTTERLY alone, alone in the vacant office. I had only the sharp smell of a meager bag of tasteless microwave popcorn for company. I retrieved a diet, caffeine free soda from the vending machine. I was strolling—walking as slowly and quietly as a THIEF back to my office—along the hallway as desolate as the winter sky when I thought—you will say I imagined—I thought heard the faintest brush of footsteps behind me. Hastily I turned and looked, but there was no one there. NO ONE THERE.

Sure, this writing lesson makes for a super-cool addition to student portfolios. But it also provides an opportunity to review of the parts of speech. And by encouraging students to go overboard, you’re giving them permission to be “bad” writers so they don’t have to worry about being “good” writers. It’s also a fun way to engage kids who otherwise tend to hold back.

But really, the best part is that you’ll have kids reading Poe like they’ve never read him before. They’ll be dissecting his style, questioning when and where he uses punctuation and figurative language. They’ll be laughing at their own ridiculousness, getting excited about language, thinking, writing, and—MOST importantly—having a fabulously creepy time.

Mary Cotillo is an 8th grade ELA teacher at Horace Mann Middle School in Franklin, MA. Mother to two children, she enjoys engaging in light saber battles and hanging out on soccer fields. She earned her National Board Certification in 2009.

© 2012 Mary Cotillo. Please do not reproduce in any form, electronic or otherwise.

My first job after college was at a public television station in New Orleans. I had no experience, so I wrote a letter to the station manager and said I was willing to do anything. Anything. I got what was generally considered the worst job in the shop: transcribing interviews. This meant when a producer went out in the field to do an interview, he or she would bring the tapes back to me and I would sit with headphones and a typewriter (yes, a typewriter) and transcribe every single word.

Sounds boring? It was. But it was helpful, too. For one thing, I learned how to type really fast, which is a useful skill for any aspiring writer.

I also learned how to listen. I was surprised to hear how often people don’t answer the questions they’re asked. This was confirmed later when I began reporting for PEOPLE magazine. People often dance around difficult questions. We—because I include myself here—avoid uncomfortable truths and try to turn conversations in other directions. But in the process, we often step right in it and reveal the very thing we’re trying to hide.

From my hours spent transcribing interviews, I learned that a conversation between two people can be powerful and dramatic, especially when there’s an underlying tension between the people talking.

So here’s a trick to use when starting a piece of fiction writing: Transcribe a conversation between two or more characters. It doesn’t have to be a fight, but the conversation should reflect a conflict, either clearly defined or mysteriously vague. Maybe the characters are talking about one thing, but they’re really talking about something else.

This is how I kicked off my new book, HOMESICK:

MOM (yelling): What in God’s name are you doing?
DAD: Shh. You’ll wake up Benny.
MOM: No, I won’t. He’s sound asleep.
[ME: Wrong. I was wide awake and listening from my room like I always did when my mom and dad fought. It was the soundtrack of my childhood.]
DAD: Let me just unload the truck.
MOM: I told you to clean up your crap, and now you’re bringing home more crap?

There’s more to this conversation, but do you see how the characters are really talking about their relationship? Does the fact that the narrator is listening from the safety of his bedroom tell us something about him? Even the mother’s use of the word “crap”—a word I don’t typically use—reveals something about the family dynamic.

Try using the transcript writing exercise with your students and see if this trick works for you. Getting rid of all those he saids and she saids might help them discover who their characters are and what their conflict is. It’s also a great way to jump right into the heat of a story.

When they revise, your students will probably want to put the dialogue in paragraph form, but maybe not. I ended up liking the transcript format so much, I used it in my book.

I hope that practicing writing transcripts will help your students land their first jobs. They probably don’t want to be transcriptionists, though. But if they can learn to hear what people are saying between the lines, and then weave a story out of those truths and lies and hopes and fears, they just might be the kind of writers whose books we want to read.

Kate Klise is the author of 23 books, including DYING TO MEET YOU, GROUNDED, and HOMESICK. For more information, visit www.kateklise.com.

Paul Bunyan is a mythical character who may or may not have sprung from earlier stories inspired by real lumberjacks who once lived in eastern Canada and northeastern United States. In PAUL BUNYAN, MY STORY, I had to decide which among the nearly endless tall tales told about Paul I would include in the book. I only scratched the surface!

June 28th is Paul Bunyan Day. It’s a good time for students to become better acquainted with Paul and his pals, learn some history, and practice writing skills. I suggest beginning with an interview. You’ll need the following characters: Mama Bunyan, Papa Bunyan, Baby Paul, Adult Paul, Babe the Blue Ox, Sourdough Sam the Cook, and the interviewer(s).

Provide each cast member with a question the interviewer will ask and a prop (doesn’t need to be much) that helps them identify with their character. After the characters have had time to read and decide on their answers, let the interviewing begin. Here are examples of how the exchanges might go.

Q: Mama Bunyan, when did you first know that your new baby was going to be so big?
A: I knew when it took five storks to deliver him instead of the usual one.

Q: Papa Bunyan, how big was your baby son?
A: Three hours after he was born he already weighed 80 pounds. In a week he was wearing my clothes.

Q: Baby Paul, were you too big for a baby buggy?
A: Nope. My buggy was a wagon. It took two oxen to pull me.

Are these fibs really meant to fool anyone? No. Tall tales told about a fictional character fall under the category of folktales. Paul Bunyan is a folk hero. His character depends on lots and lots of folktales that people have been making up about him for nearly one hundred years!

Now that your students have had fun getting into the spirit of Paul Bunyan, it’s time for them to write a few tall tales of their own! Begin by listing your characters on the board (Mama, Papa, Paul, and so on) and brainstorming at least one question (prompt) for each so that your kids will have plenty of choices.

• Sourdough Sam, what did you put in your pancakes for all those hungry lumberjacks?
• Babe, describe how cold it was the day you fell in the lake when you were a calf.
• Paul, what do you like to eat for lunch?

Work out one or two responses on the board until your kids get the hang of it. Remind them that tall tales are usually outrageous exaggerations! (Hint: No telling what Sam put into those pancakes or how much of it!) Next, choose a new prompt and ask everyone to work on it independently. Sharing tales through read alouds reinforces the concept.

Soon, your students will be writing a brand-new Paul Bunyan book! In the process, they will have practiced their skills in interviewing, reading, listening as writers, learning the difference between untruths and tall tales, exercising their imaginations, and writing new material that fits with existing patterns (that is, the Paul Bunyan myths from the North Woods).

Thanks, Paul!

David Harrison has published 80 books of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction for children. As Poet Laureate for Drury University he writes and hosts This Week with David Harrison, an ongoing podcast series of writing tips for use in elementary classrooms. David lives in Springfield, Missouri with his wife, Sandy, a former high school counselor.