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TORNADO ALLEY The Literary Magazine of Dover High School
and Dover Public Library
VOL. 3: SPRING 2017
Tornado Alley The Literary Magazine of
Dover High School
and Dover Public Library
Vol. 3: Spring 2017
Senior Editors:
Natalie Caswell
Katie Hanslik
Editors:
Emily Summerson
Emilee R. Basnett
Advisor:
Liz Strauss
Cover Art:
“Free Your Imagination”
by Emilee R. Basnett
The personal views expressed in this magazine do not represent the views of
Dover High School or Dover Public Library.
Table of Contents
Advisor’s Note
Liz Strauss, Teen Librarian, Dover Public Library
Senior Editor’s Notes
Natalie Caswell, Grade 11 and Katie Hanslik, Grade 12
Imagination 1
Eryn Basnett, Grade 9
Paradise 3
Belle Fockler, Grade 6
Define Criminal 4
Katie Hanslik, Grade 12
Land of Dreams 5
Belle Fockler, Grade 6
Kimbra 6
Emily Summerson, Grade 7
The Choice 7
Eryn Basnett, Grade 9
The Ocean 17
Belle Fockler, Grade 6
Post-Election 18
Katie Hanslik, Grade 12
Free Your Imagination 22
Emilee R. Basnett, Grade 11
Alone 23
Belle Fockler, Grade 6
The Bounty 24
Mary Vogel, Grade 8
Manhattan 29
Katie Hanslik, Grade 12
Acknowledgements
Further Reading
Advisor’s Note
By Liz Strauss
Teen Librarian, Dover Public Library
Reading this year’s submissions was like hearing from a group
of old friends. Our Senior Editors, Natalie and Katie, have
been involved with Tornado Alley from the beginning. In these
pages, Eryn takes us back to a world she introduced us to last
year, and Mary surprises us with a new, yet not unfamiliar,
dystopian world of her own.
I am so proud of all of our teen creators and editors who
have made this magazine a success year after year. Without
them, Tornado Alley would not exist.
This year, I am faced with saying goodbye to one of the most
influential voices of Tornado Alley. Katie Hanslik, who has
been with me from the beginning, is graduating high school,
moving on to bigger and better things, and leaving Tornado
Alley behind.
To say that I’m going to miss Katie is… an understatement.
Her voice, her insights, her wisdom beyond her years…
Tornado Alley will not be the same without her.
But it will go on. With the help of other young voices like
Natalie and Eryn, Belle and Mary. With the help of young
artists like Emily Summerson and Emilee R. Basnett.
And with your help, too.
Here is all I ask of you: share this magazine with a teen in your
life. Show them what other teens have done. Encourage them
to create something of their own, to let their voices be heard.
To learn more about how you can help ensure the continuation
of Tornado Alley, please feel free to email me at
I hope you enjoy the latest volume of Tornado Alley!
Senior Editors’ Notes
Natalie Caswell
Grade 11
With a new issue comes new ideas and
outlooks. Whether through politics or
fantasy worlds, themes integral to young
people today are conveyed to Dover and
beyond in these pages. There is a little bit
of everything in this issue, from poems to artwork; we hope
you enjoy these as much as we have, and perhaps take away
a new idea or outlook from the pages.
Katie Hanslick
Grade 12
It’s been a really cool experience working
with you all to put this project together
over the years. I’m a little sad that it’s my
last year, but I’m sure there are many great
things waiting for me in the years to come,
and similar opportunities, I hope. Thank you for making
Tornado Alley a reality.
Imagination
Eryn Basnett
Grade 9
I want to run and jump and play, but I have come to the end
of the day.
Now I must rest this weary head of mine and dream of my
fandoms—I’ll wake in time.
But ‘til then I sleep and drift into my world to keep.
I’ll arrive in my world, where I’m a wizard, a princess, or
maybe a Stark.
How about a Daughter of Eve? Or a Project Moonlark?
My mind will rise, and reality will die—my body stays home,
but my soul is held nigh
To the beautiful thing that is imagination;
With it I’ll fly to new heights and lives.
I am saved by my thoughts—
Saved from this mundane world so drear
That wants to take my imagination I hold oh so dear.
But I shan’t let them have it—
Do not let them see.
For to give up my thoughts would be to give part of me.
My spirit and soul and body are one—
Kept together under one rule of thumb:
Never give up your dreams, wishes, or hopes.
Life won’t be what it seems, so stoke
The fire of passion that burns inside you;
2
Imagination
And by then nothing can confine you.
Keep your thoughts alive within you,
Keep that burning love to shine.
Maintain the passion alive and new…
And show the world what you can do!
3
Paradise
Belle Fockler
Grade 6
A soft sleep drifting me away.
A gentle wake in the land of paradise.
A peaceful hymn is in the air.
The light is bright and warming.
Everyone is happy here.
No tears or blood are shed.
For this is not reality,
Nor a dream inside my head.
4
Define Criminal
Katie Hanslik
Grade 12
a hundred crimes,
but a million right-doings;
what defines “criminal”?
a misunderstood act of humility,
a misguided notion of liberty;
our moral crossroads make no sense.
define my crime:
passive ignorance,
or outright defiance?
and what of immorality “in the name of law,”
what of abuse of power?
what of authority?
be you a blind compliant or a clear miscreant,
who is really in the win?
Dare to challenge me?
5
Land of Dreams
Belle Fockler
Grade 6
How peaceful are the quaint fields,
Where thou doth trot.
‘Tis a summer’s breath come to an end, in the midst of thy
great splendor.
‘Tis one’s dreams shan’t last forever,
As reality is one’s sick nightmare.
‘Tis to live in dreams is as foolish
As to die in vain.
6
Kimbra
Emily Summerson
Grade 7
7
The Choice
Eryn Basnett
Grade 9
I woke up to the sound of my name: Eve. That was me,
right? It seemed me; it felt right. But why did I have such a
hard time placing it? Thoughts and miscellaneous
information swam through my mind like they didn’t belong
there, resisting my wishes to make sense. My entire body
hurt—it was covered in sticky red gashes and purple bruises.
My throat felt like sawdust, like I hadn’t drunk anything in
days…
But despite the overwhelming pain, my mind could only
focus on my name.
“Eve?”
It was a soft whisper that brushed my thoughts like a feather
duster; it soothed my mental aches away. I felt a touch on my
arm. In alarm I tried to jump back but recoiled as the pain
kicked back in.
Beside me was a boy. He looked maybe seventeen years old,
but had the age and maturity of so many more years in his
eyes. Shadows of countless stories seemed locked in them—
locked behind fear and regret. He had a long scar that ran
8
from his left eyebrow to his chin, still obviously new. His
disheveled dark hair gave him a rambunctious look, which went
well with piercing green eyes.
I vaguely remembered that face; it was somewhere in an
inaccessible corner of my brain. My eyes flickered open even
wider as his features refused to be given a name. He looked at
me and gave a small smile.
“Thought you’d wake up sooner or later,” he said softly as he
withdrew his hand from me.
I was lying on a makeshift cot in a low-roofed cottage laden with
herbs and spices, the boy sitting next to me on a wooden chair.
In sudden fear, I jolted upright and, despite the pain, jumped
into a defensive position. Questions bombarded my brain as the
chill of fear settled into my core. The guy beside me raised his
hands and stood slightly at my tension. He stared at me with
wide eyes for a solid five seconds before saying to me,
“Eve, I know it’s you. You know my name, don’t you?”
I gazed at him, when all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of
bricks.
“… Zack?” I whispered.
A light turned on in his eyes. Keeping his calming position, he
sat on the foot of my cot.
The Choice
9
“That’s right; I’m Zack,” he said quietly, as if speaking to a wild
animal.
My heartrate was rising exponentially, climbing to invigorating
levels. Zack’s name wasn’t the only thing I had remembered. I
suddenly remembered why I was here—why I had forgotten his
name in the first place. I didn’t belong here; I belonged to
someone else. I was someone’s puppet—someone’s plaything
to be used in the conquest of Estuain. In fact, ever since the Fire
Lily had been picked by Avery, whom Adrianne and Hestia took
in, the balance between the elves and humans was thrown, and
They—a nameless, faceless group—were taking advantage of the
unbalance.
They had kidnapped me only six months ago, away from the
Embers, a rebel group of elves. Zack and I were members of the
group; we both were “unawaken,” or hadn’t discovered our
Element. Why They took me seemed a mystery at first, but it all
eventually came to light: Zack loved me. He and his sister,
Adrianne, were the two most powerful elves in Estuain, save the
three High Oueens: Iris, Skylar, and Zelda. If They took me,
they could control him. That would leave him vulnerable, making
an opening to attack. Once They had Zack, who knows what
they would do to him.
It was genius…
And terrifying.
Eryn Basnett
10
In fear I backed away as far as possible; my breathing became
shallow.
Zack moved toward me.
“Eve, calm down—”
“No!” I cried as I stood and hopped off the cot. I couldn’t let
those monsters hurt him—I had to get away before they lured
him in. Zack quickly stood in front of me, in my only path to get
out of the room. In panic I made a mad dash for the exit. He
obviously didn’t understand the danger he was putting himself
in.
I slipped past Zack and sprinted as fast as my weak legs could
handle, vying for the chance to get away. The door came close,
but I felt a strong hand grab my wrist.
“Eve!” I heard him yell from behind as I yanked away and
dashed out the door. I could only hear the cries as I split through
the jungle, but I didn’t have to listen for long.
His voice disappeared.
Cautiously I moved forward, having halted from when I noticed
the drop in sound.
There was no movement. No sound. Not even my heavy
breathing seemed able to cut the blanket of silence.
The Choice
11
But without warning, a body slammed into me and pinned me
into a nearby tree, his hand over my mouth to suppress my
screams.
“Eve!” Zack yelled; his sudden raise in voice quieted me. His
features flickered with sad betrayal. “What are you doing?”
I tried to shove his forearm off of me, but it was like trying to
move a brick wall.
“Stay away from me, Zack! You don’t understand!”
“Listen to me.” his voice almost sounded desperate. “You’re with
friends now.”
I did anything to avoid his eyes as I attempted to get away.
“You have to believe me—please just let me go!”
“Eve,” he whispered. “What are you talking about?”
“Zack,” I warned, my voice dangerously low, “Whoever I was—
whatever Eve you think I am—dead. I don’t know her anymore.”
He fell silent for a second as his intense green eyes burned.
“You loved me once!”
Eryn Basnett
12
I had to swallow the overwhelming emotions, but his finger lifted
my chin, forcing me to stare at him.
“What did they do to you?” he whispered in a sudden calmness.
Suddenly a gruff, low male voice said from behind, “We’ve
shown her the light.”
Zack’s eyes hinted something between fear and anger as he
whipped his head around and loosened his grip on me. I felt a pit
drop in my stomach as I recognized the voice.
It was him. The man that was behind the entire plot, the man
who had no name but a title: the Being. He was more of a
shadow than a form, more of a cloaked body of smoke than
actual flesh. He had no face, but a head. Despite his lack of facial
features, this monster—this… Being— had an unnerving, glacial
gaze.
As I stared at him, his head turned toward me; I could almost
feel him form a dark, mirthless smile. Zack let go of me and
turned full body toward the Being, in a protective position.
“Stay away from her.” His voice was level and strong—not a hint
of fear played on his features.
The Being remained silent, but kept his eyeless gaze locked on
me.
The Choice
13
Fear, like an animal, latched onto my throat as if choking me,
stalling my heart from beating. As panic set in, I couldn’t help
but clutch Zack’s arm. Zack didn’t move, but kept his glare on
the Being.
“You know why I’m here, Eve,” the Being cooed at me, only
solidifying my fears.
At that moment, Zack tensed; he finally understood everything
that was happening.
The air suddenly felt uptight. Expectant.
I squeezed Zack’s arm, knowing what I had to do. If I could
protect him, then I was willing to do anything it took.
Anything.
I walked past him and let go of his arm.
“Yes, I know what you’re here for, master: me.” I glanced back at
Zack whose eyes were silently screaming no. I resolvedly steeled
my nerves and looked back at the monster. “And I will go with
you.”
The change in the air was clear as day—it was something in
between the smug victory from the Being and the sheer horror
from Zack; my stomach made a flip-flop as the reality of the
Eryn Basnett
14
The Choice
sacrifice I was making settled under my ribs. But I had to keep
my composure.
“I will go with you if—and only if—you take only me… and let
him go.”
The words stumbled out of my mouth before I made second
thoughts; once they were said, the deed would be done. I had no
time to think. I had made my decision. I would do this for Zack.
It was a risk; I wasn’t dumb. I knew the monster wouldn’t keep
his promise, but it would be enough to let Zack prepare: it was a
risk I was willing to take.
“Of course.” His poisonous voice weighed in the air. “You for
the safety of the boy; sounds reasonable.”
There was a subtle hint of mockery. I could hear it.
Zack stepped up.
“Eve, no. I won’t allow you to do this!”
He stared into my eyes, trying to find reason in the madness…
and found none.
15
Eryn Basnett
I gave him a weak smile and held his hands one last time as I
whispered in his ear, “I’ll only be gone a little while, Zack. Don’t
worry; I can take care of myself.”
I pulled away and forced down tears.
“Please, I can go in your stead!” he cried.
The sadness in his eyes broke my heart into a million pieces. One
stubborn tear fell to the ground, but before Zack did anything
about it, I stepped backwards toward the Being, keeping strong
contact with those emerald green eyes.
“This is my choice. I’m ready; just wait for me.”
I turned full body toward the Being, whose arms were open in a
cold, unsettling welcome gesture, and slowly walked forward.
Someday I would break these shackles of slavery; someday,
maybe, I could reunite with Zack.
Someday, I will be free.
I gave Zack one last reassuring smile, then stepped closer to the
Being. His cold cloak wrapped around me, engulfing me in a
familiar darkness.
The last thing that I saw before we disappeared was Zack
running towards us, screaming “NO!”
16
The Choice
And we vanished out of sight…
***
One day the fragile hope I’ve been desperately holding on to
will become reality—I felt it in my bones.
Zack will have to be patient, same as me.
Until then, I would wait.
I could wait.
After all, even the darkness must die eventually… right?
17
The Ocean
Belle Fockler
Grade 6
The moonlight dances across the sea,
A ray of blue.
While other souls are deep in slumber,
The churning sea caresses thee.
How quiet the death of an earthly soul,
In the clutches of her depths.
Her beauty cannot be matched,
Her mercy chooses the fate of thou who wanders.
18
Post-Election
Katie Hanslik
Grade 12
Let’s be honest, who hasn’t heard all the drama surrounding
the most recent national political election? And who doesn’t
have a raging and fiery opinion about it, one way or the
other?
I’m certainly not exempt from this group of hardcore,
passion-driven people. Well, which way do I lean in the debate?
you wonder.
If you know the first thing about me (which granted, many
of you do not), you’ll know my answer to that question.
This table-turning “debate” affects all of us, divides or unites
each of us within our communities, reveals our honest values
and ideals. Some people prefer the stick-to-your-own-kind
policy, a sort of strongest-survive mindset, and subsequently
believe in politics which are run this way. Others are in for a
more unified type of government system, and are fighting
with their every breath to unite people of different
nationalities, religions, genders, races, sexualities, etcetera.
There has been a developing rift—even more so than the
usual, age-old Democrats vs. Republicans argument—in
19
Katie Hanslik
these most recent months. The entire nation is rooted either for
or against certain groups right now, myself included. I’ve lost
and gained friendships over these debates; I’ve found out who I
should have been trusting all along, I’ve learned a lot about
family members and random strangers simply based on a few
political remarks.
There have been quarrels and hate crimes and protests, and every
thinkable public media has been advertising the upheaval of our
country and the public outcry. What IS the public outcry? It
seems to be divided between “America first!” and “united for
all!”
Why these cries specifically? It seems that a lot of America
believes we should hunker down, exclude those who do not
agree with us, and fend for ourselves. Meanwhile more
progressive thinkers argue that America is and has been through
history the great melting pot of our world; that diversity is what
defines us and makes us stronger.
While a recent attempted Muslim ban resulted in Mosque-
burning and a multitude of other hate crimes, movements like
the Women’s March and other protests have been joining
together groups advocating women’s rights, racial equality, the
LGBT+ community, and more. Slogans like “Stronger
Together,” “United Against Hate,” “No Ban No Wall,” and
others have been flying across social media platforms and
making their way to public protests.
20
Post-Election
What I observe most in the “strongest-survive” mottos is a
tremendous amount of fear and, more prominently, hatred, an
attitude which ultimately stems out of fear. Why fear?
Fear drives us, by nature, to huddle, to defend what we see as
rightfully ours; fear makes us avoid the unknown, hence banning
and shaming those who seem foreign or unfamiliar to us. Fear
drives a wedge between the fearful and every other kind of
person or situation which is not inherently familiar; therefore it
shuts out aspects of the world we don’t find in ourselves,
effectively eradicating diversity.
Statements like “all men are created equal,” “equal opportunity,”
“freedom of speech,” “freedom of religion,” etcetera become
entirely irrelevant and hypocritical when organizations and
politics attempt to shut down certain unsuspecting groups who
do not agree with them. During a time when America declared
its freedom and celebrated one of its favorite mottos, “all men
created equal,” slavery was in the height of its prime.
Throughout history we can see similar echoes, where a group
that should have been considered equal was shut up and shut
down by the predominant overruling system of double-
standards.
Justice can never truly exist when the minority is oppressed and
silenced by overlords; when “freedom of speech” and “freedom
of religion” only apply to certain, preferred groups. When the
power is taken from the people, the people take the power back.
That’s what I’ve learned.
21
Katie Hanslik
Anyone who is forced to live without basic rights for a long
enough time will grow desperate—desperate enough to risk life
and limb to come to freedom. We see these upheavals during
strikes, protests, you name it. The abolition of slavery, the right
for women to work and vote, these are only the most recent and
most prominent nation-wide turning points we’ve been witness
to.
If you trample another’s right to exist, to exist as something
other than what you believe in or know as familiar, you start a
fire. You start a fire within that person specifically, and
then through transmission, within entire communities and
systems.
I am sending this message right now, at the height of these
crimes, during a time when members of our nation are divided
and afraid and outraged. I am sending it to those in power, to
those who believe that a “just system” is built upon exclusion:
Be ready for what you have started. Because what you have started is
not small-scale. It is not amongst a few people. It is not a
philosophical debate. It is a war on minorities. It is a statement
that those who differ from you have no right to exist and should
be disposed of. And make no mistake, these statements have found
their targets. They have not been taken lightly. And when the
time comes to risk life and limb, just know that I, along with all
those who fight for justice, will be ready for war.
22
Free Your Imagination
Emilee R. Basnett
Grade 11
23
Alone
Belle Fockler
Grade 6
The willow tree sways in the harsh wind.
Thou frail Small thing, help you I cannot.
For I am bound to my own chains,
Caught in my own misery.
You strain against the elements,
Fighting for your life!
I pity you, small willow tree.
Alone in this wretched world.
24
The Bounty
Mary Vogel
Grade 8
The boy I was sent to kill surprised me. He didn’t look like
much. A little bit like my father actually. But, underestimating
him was a mistake!
I stood hidden behind the evergreens, waiting for the perfect
shot. I know it’s wrong to kill, but if the councilors tell you
to do it, then you do it. Question them and you’re as good as
dead.
While I waited for the boy to come in range I thought about
the day when my mark appeared. The mark is revealed
through a ceremony that takes place on your 12th birthday,
and it revealed a special ability that would help the Nobility
decide your occupation. When my day finally came I couldn’t
have been more excited. My parents were Nobility and they
had high hopes that I would become part of the high
council. When it was my time to receive the ability, I never
expected what happened next.
The ceremony chief sprinkled the sands of the oracle of
Glimoria onto me and there was a hushed silence. Then in a
bright flash, a black pattern of swirls appeared onto my arm.
The ceremony chief examined it and turned to the crowd.
25
“The Oracle has spoken. Katrina Matias, will be a bounty
hunter.”
There was a stunned silence across the crowd. Bounty Hunters
were rare, only happening about every fifty years. What were the
chances I would become the next one? Shouts suddenly erupted
from the crowd.
“Her. A bounty Hunter!” “Do you not see that silk dress she has
on?” “I would be a better bounty hunter than her.” “Like we
need someone else to slave under the council against us!” The
person that shouted the last comment was immediately hauled
off to the dungeons under the city.
I agreed with the crowd. I was the girl who wanted to be Nobility
because my parents wanted me to be. I wasn’t a… a… killer!
“ENOUGH!” The ceremony chief ’s voice bellowed over the
crowd. “Who are you to defy the decision of those above you?
You should all be afraid for your very lives!”
The crowd hushed, fear rippling across their faces.
The ceremony chief was about to say something, but a
messenger from the high council had come up and whispered
into his ear. The ceremony chief turned to the crowd and said,
“The rest of the ceremony will be private. Only the child’s family
and the high council will be present. You are all dismissed.”
Mary Vogel
26
The Bounty
With great grumbling the crowd dispersed and my family came
forward. I was upset before they arrived. But when I saw the
look on their faces, I was completely heartbroken. They were
distraught with confusion, fear, maybe even anger. They were
ashamed of me!
Then as I contemplated over my new fate, we were ushered into
the Palace of Elisondra, where the high council held court. The
high council is the head of our city. They decide everything, and
I mean everything, that happens.
The sound of crunching leaves brought me back to reality. I
aimed my crossbow at the boy’s heart, as I had realized he was in
shooting range. But right before I shot, his voice cut through the
silence.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you’re even able to hit me,
which I highly doubt, you’ll regret it.” I was taken back by his
sudden awareness. He turned to look at me.
“I am the best bounty hunter this world has ever seen and you
have the audacity to insult me?” I spat. The boy shook his head,
frowning.
“Honestly, the haughtiness of those who think they are of higher
authority disgusts me. Even you, who has to do whatever the
council asks, has no respect for anyone.” He paused a moment.
“Why do you listen to what the council demands? You have the
power to deny them.”
27
Mary Vogel
I was aghast at his disrespect, and that was what led to my
downfall. Before I could even move he swung a branch that was
carefully hidden. I moved back as fast as I could, but it clipped
my ankle. I caught myself right before I tripped, but it did knock
my crossbow away. As I lunged after the weapon, the boy dived
toward it trying to get it first. We reached it at the same time and
had a silent stare down. Then the boy kicked my ankle, causing
my leg to give way and yanked the crossbow from my grip. I
stood, hands up, my own weapon being used against me.
“I always wonder why people listen to the council. If the people
decided to rebel the council would fall before the first day was
over. So I ask you, why listen to a government that is a tyrant to
you?”
“What’s your name, boy?” I asked, ignoring his question. Against
all my better judgment, I was slightly impressed with his
boldness. The boy swiftly turned the crossbow over, and
knocked me in the head with the handle. Memories rushed into
my head as I fell to the ground. My mind returned to the Palace
of Elisondra. The high council had then taken a moment to
explain exactly what would happen. I would start learning the
trade of bounty hunter from the current one immediately.
Master Wesbay would take me under his roof, and I would learn
how to use various weapons and attack techniques. My parents
just listened and nodded, their faces pale. The high councilors
glanced shiftily at my parents before continuing.
28
The Bounty
“We understand if you have reservations about your second, I
mean first born to have such a dangerous job, but it is a great
honor!” I was confused at first when the high council member
said I was second born. I was my parent’s only child. But soon, I
dismissed it as a mistake anyone could make. The sound of the
boy’s voice jolted me back to reality.
“My name’s Jace Matias. I’m your brother.” Then the world
disappeared from my vision. And though he had escaped my
grasp I knew I would see him, my… brother, again.
29
Manhattan
Katie Hanslik
Grade 12
I can’t rain on your parade;
I’m tired of dragging myself down
and we wrote it in sandstone,
so that eventually it’d wear away—
Is it enough that there’s evidence
I used to breathe in that same city?
‘cause it’s raining in New York again,
and I don’t wanna add to that misery.
Do you walk and think of me
in the fumes of that city?
In the rushing gutters,
in the choking streets?
‘Cause it’s raining where I am, and I…
I often think what it means to you.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to all the teen writers, artists, and editors who
helped make this magazine possible. You are all awesome!
Thank you to our teen editors, Emily and Emilee, who read
and reviewed all of this year’s submissions.
A special thank you to Natalie Caswell and Katie Hanslik, this
year’s senior editors for juggling busy schedules and email
communication to help make important design decisions.
Thank you to the English and Art Departments at
Dover High School and to Paula Fritz for helping us spread
the word about Tornado Alley.
Thanks to Newhouse Printing of Dover, Ohio,
for your continued support.
Finally, thank you for reading! We hope you enjoyed Tornado
Alley and will encourage all the writers and artists in your life
to free their imaginations, create new worlds, and speak from
their hearts.
This edition of Tornado Alley was funded by a 21st Century Grant
with Dover High School and Dover Public Library
Further Reading
Visit www.doverlibrary.org/tornado-alley/ to read or
download the first two volumes of Tornado Alley!
Tornado Alley, Vol. 1: Spring 2015
Senior Editor: Katie Hanslik
Find out what it’s like to be a teenaged
vegetarian, read inspirational poetry,
travel through time and more in the first
volume of Tornado Alley.
Tornado Alley, Vol. 2: Spring 2016
Senior Editor: Natalie Caswell
The second volume of Tornado Alley
boasts full-color artwork and even more
fiction, nonfiction and poetry from local
teens.
Tornado Alley
Spring 2017
Featuring Art, Fiction, Nonfiction and Poetry
by area Teens in grades 6-12.
From artwork to insightful poetry to
fantastic short stories to personal essays,
take a look at the creative power of our area’s
young artists and writers.
Don’t forget to check out the first two volumes of
Tornado Alley online at:
www.doverlibrary.org/tornado-alley/
Funded by a 21st Century Grant with Dover High School
and Dover Public Library
