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Author Topic: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!  (Read 284412 times)

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beau77bro

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #765 on: July 25, 2017, 09:07:52 pm »
I know this might be awkward timing, considering your just marking things now -  but my teacher gave me feedback for my creative, partly and I've rectified the beginning so it matched the stimulus better. here it is, hope this isn't any inconvenience:

 Spouts of fog perforated the empty sky and air of silence, we all looked up at the beauty that hung above and around us. I had organised and paid for a trip for my family to the alps. We stood outside the entrance to our door for just a moment to stare up at the sky. I had demanded it from the kids, a moment of admiration and appreciation of what was around us. But the chill of the air and the ice on my back from falling over it made me feel alone there in the night, even amongst the stars. It reminded me of what I am and how I got there, how frivolously we value such insignificant things and don’t appreciate what’s around us makes us up. Stars always reminded me. My wife hugged me and went inside, leaving me outside to contemplate my thoughts and questions. I stood and remembered the cold hospital bed my childhood comprised of and the stick-on-stars that covered the ceiling. I thought of how I learnt to live and value living, on that icy floor with death in the air.


i also changed the ending slightly.

"My wife grabbed me, squeezed me in her arms and told me to come inside. I remembered the familiar sudden jerk that had woken me, opening my eyes to see my dad balling. He squeezed me, which was honestly agony with all the tubes. Then I giggled because I was alive and because I had answered another why. The question of “why are you such an ugly crier dad?” He hugged me again and I looked at the stream of yellow patches that decorated the sky inside. I no longer needed the star by my bed. I would live in spite of it, as well as in thanks. I waved goodbye to the night sky, thanked glowing stickers there and went inside. " 

so that it was in the present, and more connected to the stimuli. SORRY AGAIN FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE

elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #766 on: July 25, 2017, 09:44:20 pm »
Just dropping in to say there's three creatives left to mark here and they will be done tomorrow! I had more Uni reading to do ahead of tomorrow than I realised, but fear not, my commute is long enough to address all three creatives ;) So apologies for the delay!

Beau77bro, can you reupload your creative with the changes, just to make sure I'm putting it all together in the right order? Thanks a bunch! :)

Georgiia, I'm going to re-read your creative tomorrow as well with the similes in mind to see if I think that's something to be adjusted. It's not something I noticed upon first reading but fresh eyes always pick up different things, so I'll read again :)
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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #767 on: July 25, 2017, 10:25:23 pm »
Good afternoon :)

In terms of the new formatting: yes this is much more appropriate. It's easier to read and I do understand it all a little differently now. BUT, I think I've realised that the thing that makes me confused about who is saying what, might actually be, "he looked up at Xavier." Just because, I imagine someone down in order to look up, so I assume the dog is looking up and therefore the dog is saying the words. Obviously, the biker has been patting the dog so I understand why he is down and needs to look up, but I think nonetheless it should be adjusted for clarity - the two men might be both standing and they shake hands in a friendly/mate kind of way. This also might be a way for Xavier to almost resist for a moment, the spontaneity of shaking hands with a stranger like this, but he might feel better that he just connected at random with someone afterwards. I totally understand that you're trying not to use the boring scheme of dialogue. So, I think that perhaps changing the "looking up" thing might be all you need to change it up and it'll be a whole lot clearer. Also, I wasn't sure if I was just crazy in the way I read this so I showed my sister, and she said she was confused about the dynamic of the trio at this point too - so I think just adjusting the interaction there might be enough to pull it all into place! :)

Thanks so much once again  ;D

If you get the chance with your current workload, could you have a brief look at this version just to make sure it kind of works? I've just changed the dialogue at the midway point so I'll paste it here for your convenience with the change in italics.

Spoiler
You wouldn’t have been able to tell Sydney was on the cusp of winter. A light breeze ruffled evergreen leaves, adding little chill to tepid air. The afternoon sun was smiling down, with little care for the fact that it was working unpaid overtime. Its breezy attitude was fabulous for the precise rows of flowerbeds, their occupants swimming drunkenly in sunlight. On the roads sat the houses, waiting patiently for their owners to return for Christmas.

Xavier paced along slowly, taking in his green and blue abode through stray locks of sandy hair. He’s the type of kid you’d look right past at the canteen queue, but he wouldn’t make the mistake of looking past you. Eternally inquisitive, he chuffed his teachers until they became fed up of his constant attempts to find discrepancies in the syllabus. Eventually the sleepy state school arranged to offload all five foot four of Xavier to a selective campus for year eleven.

He didn’t understand why but the world felt heavier when he walked, especially when the streets were barren. With just the perfect azure sky and the shells of houses – not homes, it was hard not to ponder questions pertaining to some greater meaning. Will there still be people on our little marble in five hundred years? What about a thousand?

While Xavier’s cogs whirred Stan trudged behind him. Like a prisoner’s ball and chain, he was the reason their journey was proceeding at a snail’s pace. Despite having walked this road for as long as his friend, Stan found it eternally compelling. With the knowledge that he had all the time in the world to savour the fragrances, Stan grinned and trailed his snout through a sun-soaked patch of grass that climbed up to tickle his furry underbelly.

Suddenly, Xavier put the grip end of the lead in his mouth. The fake leather smelled like ancient socks and the dog’s fur, so his teeth gripped it firmly, separating it from his tongue. Shielding his eyes with both hands, he turned in a slow circle, scanning the sky blue dome. Today was one of those lucky days where one could see the shadow of the moon hanging out like the shy friend at a party, dwarfed by the exuberance of the sun. Just in front of it stood the wispy moustache of a cloud, a sole survivor of the summery weather. Drifting steadily past the pair was a bird devoid of grace, a jumble of mass that really didn’t belong up there, stubbornly refusing to fall.

Xavier tracked the plane across the Tasman. Why don’t we fear being flung thirty-thousand feet in the air in a thin metal tube?
Hearing chomping, he looked down at Stan and saw the stub of a discarded cutlet poking out of the dog’s mouth a millisecond before it was hastily gobbled up. Innocently, the brown marbles looked up at him, wondering what the holdup was.

Xavier tried to recall how many times he’d wrestled street scraps from Stan’s mouth as a puppy. He couldn’t. But he was sure that the dog knew he wasn’t supposed to eat that bone, as the end of his tail was raised ever so slightly as he trotted off. For Stan, Xavier realised, here and now is what matters.

The lead pulled taut, jerking Xavier out of his daze. The dog was trotting off for a reason – on the other side of the road, a bearded slab of a man emerged from a stained facade. Xavier tried hopelessly to resist – the stranger’s ink-drenched skin and shiny Harley Davidson gave him the impression that he wouldn’t be fond of Stan’s antics.

The biker turned around, alerted by the desperate wheezing Stan was making as he dragged his owner across the road.

Xavier did well to supress his wonder as biker’s menacing demeanour melted – his stubby fingers caressed the dog’s anvil-shaped head fondly. Embarrassingly, Stan decided to lie down, indicating it was time for a belly rub. His new friend obliged, having lowered himself slowly down onto his front step, so Xavier found himself having to start a conversation with the man.

“He reminds me of my dog, Lucy,” the biker confided. “I lost her a few months back.”

Stan lay dead still for a few minutes until his best friend stood up. The man breathed out airily, glancing back down at Stan.

“Sorry pup, I’ve got stuff to do.” The biker prised his eyes from the hound’s friendly stare. “See you ‘round bro,” he said to Xavier, with just a hint of emotion glinting in his voice.

Order was restored as the hound and his human continued walking, soon arriving back home.


Stan halted the procession of narrow legs and looked up the ridge of his snout into his owner’s eyes as the keys jangled on the way out of his pocket. The dog’s tongue continued to hang lazily out the side of black jowls, ready to be plunged eagerly into his familiar water bowl.

Maybe… maybe ignorance really is bliss? Stan takes life for what it is, and he’s happy as can be. He even made a new friend today, enabled by his carefree attitude. Maybe I have something to learn from my four-legged friend…

I kind of changed it a bit more than you suggested. I get what you mean with the handshake, but it would feel out of place for me on a walk, and my intention was for the discovery to be more about gaining an understanding of the dog's view rather than some personal experience but that's just me.

If it's still confusing at all please lmk. If the dialogue is no longer ambiguous, does the image of the meeting seem to "fit" in the story for you? Or does it still need something like that handshake idea? Once again thank you so much for the help  :)

elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #768 on: July 26, 2017, 08:01:50 am »
OH MY GOD YOU HAVE KNOW IDEA YOU JUST MADE MY WEEK!!!!!!
I have never EVER written a creative before and had positive feedback! (or any feedback besides 'work on strengthening it') Last assessment I got 13/20 for the screenplay which I had written but never got feedback and never got past a 2nd draft. I sent it to my teacher last week of the holidays and she only got back to me on sunday saying the screenplay was not a very good idea. So that's why I forced my self to make the switch and so today she responded to the version I've uploaded here with this:

"Please go through it and see how many similes etc you have - I think you need to edit them for the sake of clarity."

and then in class she said "we need to work on condensing it, but don't stress" or something along those lines so that left me feeling a bit less confident. I at least expected something positive?
So you have know idea how amazing coming h0ome to this feedback has been!!!!!!!! THANK YOU
Are you sure it's not simile/metaphor overload? Thats what she seemed to think. The reason you've seen the bird thing us probably because theres a creative with it floating around and because I have never written before nor have any interest in it, I thought why not use someone else Idea and build on it, so I guess that's why. Oooopsies :/
I completely understand what you're saying about the last part, I'll make a change to that.

My major question is what "types" of discovery stand out the most, like in rubric terms. Because I know my creative considerably well it's hard for me to judge. What should I really hone in on in terms of exaggerating so that It may fit a stimulus?
And do you think it's adaptable to most things they can chuck at me? I really, REALLY do not want to write another one.. Oh and what mark would you give it?

THANKS ELYSE YOU HAVE NOW IDEA HOW MUCH OF A CONFIDENCE BOOST YOU'VE GIVEN ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I actually cannot believe this :)

I read this last night and it made me all fuzzy and excited for you and I've just read it again to the same effect! I just read the story again as well, being critical of all the similes. For me, I followed them all quite easily. BUT, perhaps there is merit in what your teacher is saying for the reason that a marker will read 60+ creatives, and although ideally they'd be able to give the same dilligence to each, perhaps they'll have tired eyes and they'll not be able to follow things so closely. See, I read your creative yesterday and followed it all but it was only the second creative I read. To me, the stand out part of your work is the writing, the language. It just flows so artfully and I'm very impressed. There certainly are lots of similes, but I followed them. But it does make me wonder if it is worth condensing it just a little, even by taking out like 75 words, by just editing out a few bits and bobs here and there (maybe similes) for the sake of making it just slightly more accessible to your marker. I think that it is easy to get swept up by the wonderful language and forget that I'm meant to be analysing a discovery!

I think the spiritual discovery is foremost, but it also fits into physical, emotional, and even intellectual. It's about relationships with space and capacity, and it's a discovery that has certainly changed perspectives (big rubric point!). I think after you go back and just trim it ever so slightly, working to a stimulus is certainly the next step for you. The writing is so delicate that I hope you can seamlessly respond in an exam situation without fragmenting the language!

Be proud of what you've produced!
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beau77bro

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #769 on: July 26, 2017, 09:39:00 am »
hey elyse here is the revised version thankyou

elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #770 on: July 26, 2017, 10:07:43 am »
Hello! I have my creative in the spoiler below. I have my trials on Monday, so it would be nice if it's back (by Friday??) I know you guys have a lot to mark but it would be super nice if I can have feedback on this. Thank you so much! (Note: I also have a Mod B Essay up on the Module Thread, that would be very helpful to have done too. Sorry for the hassle!)


Spoiler
Indonesia. What a beautiful country.
The rims of the Chevrolet Bolt EV quickly became engulfed in mud as the vehicle maneuvered across the rural terrain, over jagged rocks and shallow puddles of deep-brown water. It was irritating, to say the least, knowing that such a car would be driven in a place like this. Shifting his focus from the once gleaming rims to the horizon, Johan could make out a towering mound of rubbish set alight, the billowing smoke shrouding the deep crimson sunset. Everything was exactly what he thought it would be; dirty. His nose was not accustomed to the overriding scent of fetid air. Or his body to the sweltering heat.

One day in Bogor.
He just had to pull it together for one day. That wasn’t too bad … right?
His parents had said something about paying a quick visit, to an old church was it? He couldn’t quite remember, but frankly, he didn’t really care.
The dirt road appeared to stretch before his eyes. Johan’s eyelids flickered as he tried falling asleep, only to be kept awake by the muggy atmosphere.
The moisture of the air clung onto him, weighing his entire body down.
His head began to throb, the sharp pangs pulsating behind his temple.
“Johan - “

***

“ - Darmawan”. Mr. Ives face contorted into one of disbelief.
Chuckles resonated throughout the class of kindergarteners, the small faces looking intently around the room.
“Is Johan Darmawan here?”
Johan’s face began to glow tomato red, as he sat in silence.
“His name sounds like ‘dumber one’!” a voice chimed.
The class bursted into laughter.
Dumber one.

***
“- you okay?”. His mother shot him a concerned look. “We are almost there.” Great formatting of quotations - a lot of students don't do this correctly but you've got it sorted.
Silence.
He told himself it wouldn't get to him. I mean, they were just kids… right?
But it did.
The fiends of shame and humiliation seemed to always be right around the corner, ready to latch onto his thoughts.
And sometimes, he thought about how much easier it would all be if he wasn’t Indonesian.

It was worrying, at the least, for Johan’s parents.
It was a quickly diminishing hope that he would ever be able to appreciate who he was.
And perhaps they were crazy, bringing him all the way out to Indonesia. Truth be told, they had no idea what they were doing, or what to do at all.
But they had faith, and believed that faith was all you need.

***
“You don’t have to play basketball every Sunday. Uncle and aunty haven’t seen you in so long. Please stay.”
Glancing momentarily at his mother, Johan grunted.
That was the point.
He didn’t want to see them, talk to them, or even hear their heavily accented laugh booming through the house when someone cracked a joke in Indonesian. And it didn’t particularly help that he never knew what they were saying.
But he did know that he was tired of it.
“Please… it’s not the same without you…”
He didn't want to hear it. Clutching the basketball under his arm, Johan bolted out the front door.

***
The skyline remained shrouded in a veil of smoke.
Stepping out of the car, Johan could feel the heated mud clawing at his ankles as his foot sunk into the sodden earth.
Disgusting.
Etched into the marshland were little tree stumps, stretching deep into the mist.
Johan could only imagine the forest that once existed here. The magnificent array of bold trunks and sun-kissed leaves sprung into his thoughts.
It was so far removed from that now, and he wondered what it would be like if things would go back to the way they once were.

Before him was a humble shack that succumbed to the forces of nature and time, deteriorated and abandoned;  the wood’s integrity diminished in beauty and strength. A crucifix dangled from the haphazard frame of the entrance, and it appeared any moment from now it would fall.
But it didn’t.
A bittersweet grin swept across his mother’s face as she glanced at the disintegrating structure.
“Ini Hari Minggu.” (“It’s Sunday.”)
Her eyelids closed as she joined her hands together.
“Bapa kami….” (“Our Father…”)

***
… yang ada di surga”. (“... who art in Heaven”)
Little Johan clambered up his mother’s leg into her lap. He could see everybody!
There was Om Agi and II Yuni,
His cousins KoKo Raditya, CiCi Irene,
And of course, mum and dad.
A tingle raced down his spine as they recited each word of the Lord’s prayer in unison, hands linked in a ring around their Sunday feast.
Ah, the feast! How could he forget?
An unmistakable smoky aroma emanated from the ayam satay skewers, indicative of his father’s prowess on the grill. Not to mention his mother’s gado-gado, the perfect combination of sweet, sour and savoury.
He loved Sunday, or Hari Minggu, as his parents would say.
But most importantly, he loved being Indonesian. **See comment below
***
“... bebaskan la kami dari yang jahat, Amin.” (“But deliver us from evil, Amen”).
A mellow breeze sliced through the muggy air, and as Johan opened his eyes, the fingers of the wind soothing his taut muscles.
Mum, dad, himself. Arms linked in a ring.
Johan thought about that little boy, and he wondered what it would be like if things would go back to the way they once were.
Maybe that’s just the sort of thing being bullied as a kid does.
Being told that you are lesser, weaker, the dumber one.
At least, now he knew who he really was. An Indonesian Catholic. Not many could say that, huh?
And on this Hari Minggu, he promised that he would never forget.

The smog had lifted, and revealed a spectacular crimson sunset. Turning towards it, Johan’s eyes glowed with an intense flare.
Indonesia. What a beautiful country.

I want to talk about two aspects of the story: the plot and the writing style.

Firstly, the writing style. So often you've used a declarative writing style, done more telling than showing. I think this is a missed opportunity because it seems as though you have an experience of or connection to Indonesia, so I'm keen to smell everything with you, taste it too, and so on. I get this a little with the satay skewers! But I think there could be more of it than there is. Instead we are told, he doesn't like to feel the way he does, he doesn't like hearing the words he doesn't understand, he doesn't like this, he feels like that. Don't get me wrong, they are all valid emotions for the telling of the story, but they are declared instead of shown, and I think this is a missed opportunity to show your prowess as a writer.

Secondly, this is where I want to refer to the ** I put above. The plot jumps a bit. It spends time resenting identity and experience, and then within one scene everything changes, and the protagonist loves being an Indonesian Catholic. I think it's just not enough development. Perhaps if the scene of change were more rich and evocative, I could be on board with it more. But at the moment it's a little rough in the way one scene changes everything. I think if you were to write out a story board of what happens at each moment, I think you'd find that there is slow progression, then a big leap, and then we have the outcome of the discovery. I think it needs to be embedded more gently.

About the discovery, it definitely exists in a strong way, and it's only upwards from here. The reason I say upwards from here is because when we adjust the language, or slightly tweak the plot, no doubt the discovery will sit on new layers as empathy is evoked in the reader. I really like the way the source of sadness turned into a source of inspiration - I think it's a really nice turn around and certainly reflects a discovery.

As a suggestion for the plot, perhaps you could look at the ways that the protagonist tried to engage with the culture, despite it being the reason the protagonist was bullied, but just couldn't break in because they were caught between identities. And then the defining scene could be a combination of both Australian and Indonesian cultures combined, and the discovery could be geared towards the two existing together to create a unique hybrid experience, and this can be viewed as the source of inspiration! Just a thought! Hopefully this helps :)
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Daniyahasan

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #771 on: July 26, 2017, 10:31:30 am »
Hey Elyse!
so i took on board your feedback, so itll be great if you could have a look at this paragraph

ORGINAL
Dark shadows danced amongst the walls, the flickering street lamps encouraging them to continue their haunting ritual into the endless night. Following the makeshift path excitedly, a growing sense of exhilaration manifesting itself, she takes in what is surrounding her. The abandoned warehouse stretched endlessly onwards, the walls on the opposite end of her barely visible, obstructed by the towering boxes and rusted vehicles. As much as the excitement that it brought, she felt her hopes fall. In this silentness there was no possibility that she would be able to a produce a story for her column in the newspaper. Lingering around for what seemed like forever, with nothing interesting to get a hold on and much disappointment she decided to make her way back home.A piercing scream followed by gunfire caused her to jolt and stopped her in her tracks, steering her attention to a new light. The disappointment in her mind was replaced with bursting senses of excitement.


EDITED
Dark shadows danced and swayed amongst the dark walls, the flickering street lamps encouraging them to continue their haunting ritual into the endless night. Following the makeshift path excitedly, a growing sense of exhilaration manifesting itself, she takes in what is surrounding her. The abandoned warehouse stretched ceaselessly onwards, the walls on the opposite end of her barely visible, obstructed by the towering boxes and rusted vehicles – despite her excitement and eagerness all bubbled up in her, she felt her hopes fall. A feeling of extreme dismay and sorrow rushed up her spine, making her feel exhausted. Nibbling on her bottom lip and standing in the middle of darkness, she looked around with extreme anticipation. In this eerie silence there was no possibility that she would be able to a produce a story for her column in the newspaper. Lingering around for what seemed like forever, with nothing interesting to get a hold on and much disappointment, as if having the wind taken out of one's sails, she decided to find another destination – her determination still hoisted high. The path she kicked and trotted along was dusty and thick, dirtying her off white slip on. At this point, the weather had become somewhat chilly, and so her black jeans and the flannel she threw on failed to keep her warm. With her camera dangling around her neck; she sighed and walked on.
At some point, she bumped into a few citizens. A ray of optimism sparked within her, and she began questioning them in the hope that she’ll be able to get some story for her column from these people. Much to her frustration, she could barely get them to speak. Staring at her as if she was an erratic creature, she became self-conscious. Regardless, this side of the town was monotonous and so were the people living. Hindrance and fury built up in her as she kicked the rocks and pebbles within sight on the road. She stomped off in the other direction when she heard a loud noise that stunned her and made her stop in her direction.

I've made changes throught the creative according to your feedback but this paragraph i really wanted you to see if its okay
Thanks Elyse!
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elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #772 on: July 26, 2017, 10:34:13 am »
hey elyse here is the revised version thankyou

Great timing Beau! Thank you :)

Spoiler
Creative Practice - Stimuli 1 (HSC 2016)

Compose a piece of imaginative writing that explores the relationship between place and individual discovery.


 Spouts of fog perforated the empty sky and air of silence, we all looked up at the beauty that hung above and around us. I had organised and paid for a trip for my family to the alps. Capitalisation required - The Alps. We stood outside the entrance to our door for just a moment to stare up at the sky. I had demanded it from the kids, a moment of admiration and appreciation of what was around us. But the chill of the air and the ice on my back from falling over it made me feel alone there in the night, even amongst the stars. It reminded me of what I am and how I got there, how frivolously we value such insignificant things and don’t appreciate what’s around us makes us up. Just a bit of clumsy expression, try: "and don't appreciate the way our surroundings are our makeup," or, "don't appreciate the way our surroundings create who we are."Stars always reminded me. My wife hugged me and went inside, leaving me outside to contemplate my thoughts and questions. I stood and remembered the cold hospital bed my childhood comprised of and the stick-on-stars that covered the ceiling. I thought of how I learnt to live and value living, on that icy floor with death in the air.



I do not remember much of the time I spent in hospital. A lot of it was an a bit of a blur. I don’t remember all the surgeries (thank god). I don’t remember the nurses, the paper cards from friends and relatives, the absence of my brother, and the long nights my mother spent next to me. I don’t remember the sickly faces that evaporated from the beds around me, but I know that they are no longer with us. I remember the light yellow stars stuck to the ceiling and I know the feeling of rage and bewilderment that plagued me. It always came back to the same question, however i chose to phrase it. WHY? Why me? What was the reason for any of this suffering? What had I done to deserve this? In 2 years I couldn’t work it out, but in one night that cold hard floor knocked the answer within my reach… i just needed to grasp it.

My endless tossing and turning had strangled me in my sheets, and my arm in the cords that maintained my existence. Any dream or measure of sleep was broken by that barrelling feeling of falling. That feeling of inertia as your organs resist the motion of falling and the rest of your body accelerates towards the ground. It’s a terrible, sickening feeling I’ve always found jerked you awake even if you weren’t truly falling. I really like this paragraph so far, but this last bit here is telling what the reader already accepts: that you don't actually fall. So I think it's best to take it out as to avoid limiting your creativity. Like stumbling in a dream. But the fall felt pretty real and so did the ground I met. The cold stung at me through the sheets, like a bed of needles. Meanwhile the actual needles pulled at my weak limbs and my body was covered in warm streaks of red. The cords had become entangled around me and with each other. The thumb clamp had come off and without it my star ceased to blip, a barely glowing screen. The warmth was gone. I had been devoured by a chill that shot down my body, like falling through the ice. With it came a sea of questions. More unknowns. More whys? A where and a was.

I cried. Not because of the pain, I had no more tears left for pain. I cried out of fear and out of anger, I had used no tears for them. I never did complain, not out loud. I didn’t want to face the answers to my questions, but as I lay there, alone, I asked my first… I could not ask the second.

“Where was my star? Was I…?”

The screen had gone dark. My star had gone out. Seeing as though I was only six years old I didn’t know it had simply gone out. That’s where the overwhelming issue of my sickness stuck, I DIDN’T KNOW. There was nothing in my life I understood anymore and nothing I had control of. It was like one day all the air was knocked out of my lungs and I was just hobbling about for months since, I had to be pushed around in a PRAM! In a moment I was no more - eaten up by sickness, and anger and confusion. But really I was scared I looked up to the ceiling for the warmth of the stars, but they were a blurr. A series of fluorescent streaks. I did not struggle when the darkness seeped across my view.

Why? Why was I different? What was wrong with me? Why did every moment have to be hard; talking to mum and my siblings, breathing, walking?... Where was my glimmering star? Was I…? Was this…?

When I opened my eyes, i met the cold again. It was all through me. It was like my bones and blood burnt. It was worse than the chemo. I winced at every movement, every breath. Agony. I wanted the darkness again, any reprieve from this existence… I hated anyone who didn’t have to live like this. It still stung at me, Why? Why didn’t they have to endure this? No. I would not sleep. I would not lea… I would not leave them unanswered. I stared at the glowing specs above me. Resolute. But as the world knocked at me and shook, the energy sapped from my eyes… I couldn’t fight as the ceiling turned to blackness. No matter how hard I clung to the blurry specs. And as they receded I knew. I knew I didn’t have controlled control* over what was happening, or what had happened. I didn’t cause any of this - but I had consumed myself in it.

Things JUST happened. That was just it. I hadn’t cause this. Lying there i had no control over anything. I was helpless. Now and before, and really, it was liberating. The questions that pulled me towards the black ice inside of me were gone… they didn’t need answers, I had done nothing wrong. I saw the lights, the specs were clear. Warmed, I faced the cold and the darkness outside of me, and I embraced them.

“I can control myself. I can choose how I want to deal with what life throws at me…. that’s enough, maybe just enough to change what’s ahead of me. But I can’t change this, so I’m not going to fight it.”


My wife grabbed me, squeezed me in her arms and told me to come inside. I remembered the familiar sudden jerk that had woken me, opening my eyes to see my dad balling. He squeezed me, which was honestly agony with all the tubes. Then I giggled because I was alive and because I had answered another why. The question of “why are you such an ugly crier dad?” He hugged me again and I looked at the stream of yellow patches that decorated the sky inside. I no longer needed the star by my bed. I would live in spite of it, as well as in thanks. I waved goodbye to the night sky, thanked glowing stickers there and went inside.


Oh Beau...I looove the way you've edited this story. The beginning and ending have such a nice framework for the story now, I really see it in new light. There is something more than I want of the ending, though. I want to go back to that sentence I edited in the introduction, about our surroundings being our makeup. I'd love to come back to this in the ending there, and maybe even draw an analogy between the way all of the stars are the composition of the night sky, and every experience for us adjusts the way we are too. This just adds another layer to your work, but you've already got the motif of the stars in there already so it's just adding onto them. Or, at least something to this effect, I think.

There are times were grammar needs to be adjusted - sometimes it's too many commas. I suggest just reading this out loud in the way you've written it and I'm sure you'll iron out a few things here and there so that you can use the grammar to ensure the way it is received by the reader.

Excellent work on your adjustments. Are you happier with the story now? Do you have any concerns about it?
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elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #773 on: July 26, 2017, 10:39:50 am »
Hey Elyse!
so i took on board your feedback, so itll be great if you could have a look at this paragraph

ORGINAL
Dark shadows danced amongst the walls, the flickering street lamps encouraging them to continue their haunting ritual into the endless night. Following the makeshift path excitedly, a growing sense of exhilaration manifesting itself, she takes in what is surrounding her. The abandoned warehouse stretched endlessly onwards, the walls on the opposite end of her barely visible, obstructed by the towering boxes and rusted vehicles. As much as the excitement that it brought, she felt her hopes fall. In this silentness there was no possibility that she would be able to a produce a story for her column in the newspaper. Lingering around for what seemed like forever, with nothing interesting to get a hold on and much disappointment she decided to make her way back home.A piercing scream followed by gunfire caused her to jolt and stopped her in her tracks, steering her attention to a new light. The disappointment in her mind was replaced with bursting senses of excitement.


EDITED
Dark shadows danced and swayed amongst the dark walls, the flickering street lamps encouraging them to continue their haunting ritual into the endless night. Following the makeshift path excitedly, a growing sense of exhilaration manifesting itself, she takes in what is surrounding her. The abandoned warehouse stretched ceaselessly onwards, the walls on the opposite end of her barely visible, obstructed by the towering boxes and rusted vehicles – despite her excitement and eagerness all bubbled up in her, she felt her hopes fall. A feeling of extreme dismay and sorrow rushed up her spine, making her feel exhausted. Nibbling on her bottom lip and standing in the middle of darkness, she looked around with extreme anticipation. In this eerie silence there was no possibility that she would be able to a produce a story for her column in the newspaper. Lingering around for what seemed like forever, with nothing interesting to get a hold on and much disappointment, as if having the wind taken out of one's sails, she decided to find another destination – her determination still hoisted high. The path she kicked and trotted along was dusty and thick, dirtying her off white slip on. At this point, the weather had become somewhat chilly, and so her black jeans and the flannel she threw on failed to keep her warm. With her camera dangling around her neck; she sighed and walked on.
At some point, she bumped into a few citizens. A ray of optimism sparked within her, and she began questioning them in the hope that she’ll be able to get some story for her column from these people. Much to her frustration, she could barely get them to speak. Staring at her as if she was an erratic creature, she became self-conscious. Regardless, this side of the town was monotonous and so were the people living. Hindrance and fury built up in her as she kicked the rocks and pebbles within sight on the road. She stomped off in the other direction when she heard a loud noise that stunned her and made her stop in her direction.

I've made changes throught the creative according to your feedback but this paragraph i really wanted you to see if its okay
Thanks Elyse!


Yes! Are you more happy with this version? Because I am. I like that I can place what she's wearing - it gives me more information about the kind of journalist and person she is, which is important for when I chew on the moral dilemma later. But also, the plot makes more sense now. I know it's extended it, but it definitely contributes to the way a reader can follow the plot and trust in your writing to get us to the point of discovery. I'm really pleased with the way you've developed this, I hope you are too!
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cxmplete

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #774 on: July 26, 2017, 10:46:09 am »
Hi, I gave my creative to my teacher and she says there are some points I need to expand on, so I fixed them up. I was wondering if I could get feedback on it. Also, is the discovery element evident in my story? Thanks.

Spoiler
Lost And Found
I liked being a mess. The desk that should have been clear was besieged with bowls of cereal and spoiled milk, old magazines, and Post-it notes of reminders I ought to remember. My floor was a vacuum in itself, eating anything entering my room. It consumed sweaters, stuffed animals, socks, and shoes. The heavy covers lay crumpled and cold across my bed, moulded by the twists and turns of the night.  My shelves overflowed with containers of little odds and ends: hair bands, Chap Stick, matches, loose mints, coins, and earring backings. 

Something inside me began to itch as I recalled that my friends were yet to return from camp, visiting family, or some community-service trip. I tried taking a shower, scrubbing myself with every body wash and bar of soap I could get my hands on. I checked my e-mail, but it was empty. I checked the DVR to see if any new shows had been recorded, but I had already seen everything.

I went downstairs and found my brother playing video games, my mum on the phone, and my dad in his office – everyone in their usual place. I told my mum that something didn't feel right, and she suggested that maybe for once I should clean my room. Dragging myself upstairs, I felt overwhelmed with the thought of organising that chaotic mess that I might as well have been floundering without a boat in the Atlantic Ocean.

When I opened the door to my bedroom, everything was in its usual cluttered arrangement. I trudged to the centre of the clutter and I had become aware of the filthy air that I had become so accustomed to. I noticed my stuffed animal, Vanilla, on my bed and remembered how during one winter, she had fallen behind my dresser and I didn’t notice her until the repulsive scent of her fur burning against the heater permeated the room.

Vanilla’s state sparked my sympathy for everything buried in the room that had become consumed by age. Lost items long forgotten resurfaced into my consciousness: my favourite yellow tank top, the picture of my mum and I on a boat in Jamaica, and my AFL card collection. The lost objects suffused me with an urge to dive under my bed and uncover everything lurking in the murky depths of dust.

And so I started to clean. Under my bed, in a box buried under old textbooks, I found a letter that my Poppy had written me while I was at camp. I hadn't thought of him since his funeral. I remembered the thrill of running through the cold sprinklers hand in hand, the spicy smell of barbecue mixing with the salty air at his beach house, and the distinct feeling of his soft sweater rubbing against my cheek every time he enveloped me in a hug. 

I remembered my dad rocking me to sleep the night Poppy died, and how the tears wouldn't stop.

I sat with the letter, and tried blocking out the rest of the mess around me. I was in the middle of a storm, but I sat there and studied it again and again until I had memorised every line. Tears began to roll down my cheeks again. The relief from that bizarre itchy feeling was like the sound of heavy rain pounding on a roof at the end of a drought. 

Wiping my tears, I tried to distract myself, directing my attention to the bedside drawer. I found the picture of my mum and me on that boat in Jamaica. I’ve forgotten the sight of those turquoise waters, and the sticky warmth enveloping the boat. I started to remember my elated anticipation for new adventures as I smiled for the camera, full from a hearty breakfast of eggs and toast and stacks of pancakes. I was barely able to recognise this person who had drowned in the mess of her room so many years after Poppy had died. A person who rarely anticipated getting up in the morning, and seldom felt full after even a hearty meal of what she desired. Someone who clung to the memory of Poppy’s toothy grin, and sparkling amber eyes, and the torturously blissful feeling of her heart racing as she saw him. My heart raced as I recalled those memories. My breathing accelerated. I started to feel the walls close onto me as the mess seemed to mock me. My stomach lurched, and adrenaline pumped through me as I wanted to scream to let out my grief.

I was not the chaos of my room.

I am the silly child who ran to the wrong plane, and the owner of the fingers that made the lightest cupcakes. I am the writer of nightmarish stories and the creator of lame punch lines.

I am whomever I decided to be. 

Slowly, I began to place the books, belts, and baskets in their right places. Everything will finally be where it should be. It was like finding the missing pieces of the puzzle.

Gently I framed that photo and hung it high up on my wall. After all, it was me I had been searching for.


« Last Edit: July 26, 2017, 10:50:06 am by cxmplete »

Daniyahasan

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #775 on: July 26, 2017, 10:46:29 am »
Yes! Are you more happy with this version? Because I am. I like that I can place what she's wearing - it gives me more information about the kind of journalist and person she is, which is important for when I chew on the moral dilemma later. But also, the plot makes more sense now. I know it's extended it, but it definitely contributes to the way a reader can follow the plot and trust in your writing to get us to the point of discovery. I'm really pleased with the way you've developed this, I hope you are too!

Yep i like this version too,
and about the part where she decides to go to the neighbourhood iv changed that too, so now she's a bit reluctant to go there, cos you said it seemed a bit unbelievable and i totally agree with that

A hint of reluctance and fright almost stopped her from beginning her excursion. Most people preferred to keep distance from those areas of town - headlines about precarious incidents taking place, odd and daunting noises echoing day in and day out were enough to keep the people from stealing a glance or even wandering around the threshold of this zone.

do these 2 sentences sound better?
ATAR Goal 90

elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #776 on: July 26, 2017, 10:52:07 am »
Yep i like this version too,
and about the part where she decides to go to the neighbourhood iv changed that too, so now she's a bit reluctant to go there, cos you said it seemed a bit unbelievable and i totally agree with that

A hint of reluctance and fright almost stopped her from beginning her excursion. Most people preferred to keep distance from those areas of town - headlines about precarious incidents taking place, odd and daunting noises echoing day in and day out were enough to keep the people from stealing a glance or even wandering around the threshold of this zone.

do these 2 sentences sound better?

Wonderful! Very impressive. It just makes everything flow with a little more believability, so this is great :)
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georgiia

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #777 on: July 26, 2017, 12:12:04 pm »
I read this last night and it made me all fuzzy and excited for you and I've just read it again to the same effect! I just read the story again as well, being critical of all the similes. For me, I followed them all quite easily. BUT, perhaps there is merit in what your teacher is saying for the reason that a marker will read 60+ creatives, and although ideally they'd be able to give the same dilligence to each, perhaps they'll have tired eyes and they'll not be able to follow things so closely. See, I read your creative yesterday and followed it all but it was only the second creative I read. To me, the stand out part of your work is the writing, the language. It just flows so artfully and I'm very impressed. There certainly are lots of similes, but I followed them. But it does make me wonder if it is worth condensing it just a little, even by taking out like 75 words, by just editing out a few bits and bobs here and there (maybe similes) for the sake of making it just slightly more accessible to your marker. I think that it is easy to get swept up by the wonderful language and forget that I'm meant to be analysing a discovery!

I think the spiritual discovery is foremost, but it also fits into physical, emotional, and even intellectual. It's about relationships with space and capacity, and it's a discovery that has certainly changed perspectives (big rubric point!). I think after you go back and just trim it ever so slightly, working to a stimulus is certainly the next step for you. The writing is so delicate that I hope you can seamlessly respond in an exam situation without fragmenting the language!

Be proud of what you've produced!

THANK YOU so much Elyse!! You have made me so much more confident about it! Im not even kidding but if it weren't for this feedback I honestly think I would've brushed it aside and half-heartedly memorised it, hoping to make something up on the spot. I mill condense/re-draft it and let you know how I go.

Thank You so much!!!!! :)

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #778 on: July 26, 2017, 03:35:17 pm »
Hi, I gave my creative to my teacher and she says there are some points I need to expand on, so I fixed them up. I was wondering if I could get feedback on it. Also, is the discovery element evident in my story? Thanks.

Hey cxmplete! Thanks for posting your Creative - You'll need 40 posts on ATAR Notes to qualify for feedback (note that the requirement has been bumped to 25 posts to help us prioritise in the Trial period) :)

elysepopplewell

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #779 on: July 26, 2017, 05:32:40 pm »
Hey all, in 48 hours from now we will be locking these marking threads for the trial period. The two main reasons being, we want to be able to help lots of students in the time it takes to mark an essay/creative (usually 30-45 minutes at least) while lots of students need the help during trials, and also because feedback becomes less constructive with minimal time until the exam because we want to avoid panicking you with big changes, so the feedback isn't as worthwhile for you.

Not to fear - you still have 48 hours to post your work and we will get to marking them even after the threads are locked (if there's backlog).

We'll still be here to help you during the trials with all of our Q+A threads, downloadable notes, thesis statement feedback and so on. Thanks for understanding! We're still here to help on all of the boards that aren't marking threads! :)
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