Here are a few lines from my children’s novel, Soapstone Signs:

Today, when Lindy finishes a carving, I become curious.
“How do you know what you will carve next?”

He pauses, looking thoughtful. “You ask the stone,” he says.
“Whatever it is going to be, it is already there.”

“How does the stone answer you?”

“Sometimes, you might be given a sign, and then you will know what to carve.”

I hold the soapstone to my ear all the way home but it does not speak to me. I ask it lots of questions but it doesn’t reply. I hold it up to a lamp, but I still can’t see into it. I cradle the stone until it is as warm as I am, but I still don’t know what it’s meant to be.