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March 29, 2024, 06:25:17 am

Author Topic: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!  (Read 284397 times)

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bananna

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #570 on: March 20, 2017, 08:46:43 pm »
So sorry, I wasn't really clear on what to do.

yeah, you need 15 posts, like asking questions on different forums is really helpful and gets your post count up. :)

Wales

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #571 on: March 20, 2017, 10:08:34 pm »
So sorry, I wasn't really clear on what to do.

Have a look around the forums. Maybe you can offer people some help if you're confident in a specific subject etc. I might enter the Mathamatics forum for instance and help Rui or the others answer some questions if I have time :) It's really an awesome community once you participate and integrate yourself.

Happy posting  ~
Heavy Things :(

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #572 on: March 20, 2017, 10:11:55 pm »
So sorry, I wasn't really clear on what to do.
Have a look around the forums. Maybe you can offer people some help if you're confident in a specific subject etc. I might enter the Mathamatics forum for instance and help Rui or the others answer some questions if I have time :) It's really an awesome community once you participate and integrate yourself.

Happy posting  ~

Indeed, yharb has already been lending a hand on the PE boards and elsewhere! Much appreciated - Keep it up and you'll reach the requirement in no time :)

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #573 on: March 22, 2017, 09:08:41 pm »
Hi,
I'd love to know if my story makes any sense and if it fits the concept discovery well. Also, if you could give me an estimate of the mark that I might get for this creative, that would be great! Thanks!

Welcome to the forums Carissaml! ;D

Thanks for posting your essay - Our essay marking rules require you to have 15 posts for each essay you'd like feedback for. This is just to make sure the markers can keep up ;D

If you hang around the site a bit, I bet you'll reach that threshold in no time :)

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #574 on: March 24, 2017, 07:03:29 pm »
So this is my essay-speech. It is a 4 min speech with 30 seconds lean way, and was wondering which parts I should remove in my essay. Feedback will be amazing.  ;) 8)
PS: I'm not sure if this is the right thread to post... ???

I think I'll slide this over to the essay thread!! I'll move this now ;D

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #575 on: March 24, 2017, 09:56:54 pm »
Here is my creative writing! Can someone please mark this for me as my half yearlys are in three days (I leave things to the last minute ahaha). Thanks, Josh

Hey Josh! Welcome to the forums!

Thanks for posting your Creative - Unfortunately we require 15 posts on ATAR Notes per piece of detailed feedback we give you. This is just to make sure the markers can keep up (Elyse and I have had like 5 or 6 essays posted in the last 24 hours and we're like, "eep", ahaha ;)) - You are welcome to ask questions and contribute to conversation to meet that requirement! Then just let me know when you do ;D

In any case, good luck with your exam on Monday! ;D

dux99.95

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #576 on: March 25, 2017, 12:41:13 am »
Hey

Thanks so much for this! We really appreciate you guys :)
half yearly on monday
 
> I just need to know overall what i could improve to make it a 15/15. I'm a bit concerned about logical flow & showing/not telling but yeah overall what could I do? Also looking to cut words tho not necessary.
I've attached it ALONG WITH the stimulus I prepared. Please refer to the stimulus as well and not just the creative. The stimulus qustion is just on top of the same word doc, its pretty conspicuous.
Can I remove my creative after feedback? I'm just afraid of it being out here so open...

Thanks once again:)
BTW when i get a reply, do I click the page number or look for my post? Or is there a link to go directly to my post cos I havent seen that so far


Ellie__

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #577 on: March 25, 2017, 09:08:27 am »
Hi Guys!!!

Could you please have a look at my Discovery Creative, I'm not quite sure if it's too cliché or if the tense is right throughout.
You guys are awesome!!

Thankyou!!
Discovery Creative Writing-

Mum held my hand. It was trembling. Numb. Her skin against mine, cold to touch, clambered with the droplets of sweat that permeate. I could feel her rapid pulse. Boom, Boom, Boom. One after the other. Faster. I’ve never seen her like this before, riddled with fear, fear of the unknown. Her vision fixated on what’s in front, searching for some kind of solution. But this time there is no solution. No magic wand. Nothing.
Her bottom lip quivered, I know she was holding back. She’s built a barrier, no one can tap inside. Scared. Her eyes became covered by a sheen of water. The air in the room was thick, sterilised,  stagnate. No breath could be taken. Nothing was said. Silence dominated. My thoughts wondered, as I search for some kind of comfort, a memory of the past.

She held my hand, the warming touch of her soften hands cured any feelings of the crisp cold air that surrounded. Her hands a golden olive hue as the rays of sun pierced through the dancing leaves of the trees that glistened against her paper thin skin.

We walked along the cement pathway, our footsteps in a synchronised rhythm one after the other, rustling the fallen autumn leaves that carpet the pathway tones of reds and gold. The hum of the bustling city that encircled, bursts of frustrated taxi horns and the ever-changing tune of the grey-bearded busker who perch along the sidewalk- Silenced. The mesmerising sway of the colourful boughs above, suspended by the ash coloured rough-barked beauty of the roots that we like to call our loyal friends, stand tall either side of the path as we transcend past. The smell was like no other, fresh and replenishing that filled our lungs with a newfound energy.

I looked up at her face, her smile more than just a display of emotion. But rather a comforting sense of solace that soothes any sense of worry. The burnt orange glimmers of the afternoon sun illuminate her auburn short curls of hair that frame around her face, hiding the tints of grey you would never dare to mention. Her lips red as rose, always matching the nails on her hands. Her eyes a rich blue, almost like the open ocean I’ve always dreamt about.

We continued along the leaf covered path until we reached her unit in the outskirts of the city. I could always tell this was hers by the numerous plant pots that ranged in size, all with flowering blooms of roses and sprigs of herbs that sat on the front perch creating an inviting aroma that would lead anyone up to the front door. The outside of her unit was a creamy yellow hue, aged by the long hours of sun it faced in the summer months. In the middle was the enormous mahogany door curved as an arch on top, with a frosted emerald and violet arching glass widow above.

She lifted up the corner of the doormat to reach the key. After a few minutes of clever negotiation with the door, we finally make it inside. As usual, I felt her warm hand slide off my sweater to hang it on the clothes stand in the hallway. Above the coats was a shelf with a line of old photos and albums that I never get tired of gazing through, games to play and folded coats of hers and the ones we always forget to take home.

The hallway opened onto the dining room, Grandma’s prize possession. Centred in the middle of the room was her great, dark oak rounded table. I could never understand how Grandma’s 5’4”slim and delicate stature need such an enormous table, but I never questioned it. Faded white cotton dollies sat on top of the table, each created by Grandma’s stiffened hands. Photos and trinkets older than me, from times of war sat on the shelves that surround the room, all free of dust and chaotically ordered.

As I stood admiring each individual photo, the sound of ponding and the following aroma of mint and thyme, sparked my sensations. Immediately, pangs of hunger stirred with the thought of Grandma’s food. I left the room and sat on the wooden stool in the kitchen. Memorised by the movement of Grandma’s cooking. “This is the meal that I first ate, after the war had finished” she nostalgically continued, “everyone on the street came into our terrace for supper to celebrate, the boys were coming home!”   

Half an hour passed, with the buzz of the oven timer. Within moments Grandma sprung up from her old mahogany arm chair, leaving her knitting needles halfway through a row. She directed me to the dining room, footsteps come nearer and never, appearing with oven gloves in hand, the smile on her face and the gleam of her blue eyes was enough to say this will be good.

The silent hushed footsteps of the nurses as they quietly did their rounds. The creases and indentations of Grandma’s wearied figure, the markers of age now revealed as the mask that once covered every wrinkle and every age, gone. The true beauty of her life, experience and memories is only to be seen. The wrinkles on her face explain the most incredible journey. The lines under her eyes told of smiles, laughter and affection. The creases above the eyebrows show the worries and doubts of her past that now lay at ease. He lines were so engrained they told the greatest story of the beam of light and energy who has travelled through eight and a half decades. 

Mum’s hand still quivered as the tears of attachment still rolled down her cheeks. I grasped her and Grandma’s hands. Standing in silence, my eye gaze catches the bright, golden hues of the setting sun dancing along the tree branches behind the square window above Grandma’s bed. We both immerse our focus within the natural world, the ever blue sky the shades of Grandma’s blue eyes, her auburn curls of hair now colours of the tree branches that sway. The crimson red lips blossomed as the roses caught the glimmering rays. The tears that fell along our cheeks slowly eased, as the memory of Grandma’s beauty and affection could never be forgotten.
 

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #578 on: March 25, 2017, 11:49:50 am »
Hey

Thanks so much for this! We really appreciate you guys :)
half yearly on monday
 
Can I remove my creative after feedback? I'm just afraid of it being out here so open...

Hey saloni! We cannot remove your Creative after feedback - This thread, beyond being a place for feedback, acts like one of those sample booklets you'd buy from NESA. Sample responses with comments saying what worked and what didn't - It's like one of those $40 booklets, but free ;D we've had lots of people who have benefitted from these threads just by reading other peoples work and seeing what worked and what didn't - So for that reason, the creative has to stay up here with the feedback :)

Note that we've been marking in NSW for a year and we've never had an issue with plagiarism or anything of the sort :) if you are still cool getting it marked I'll do it today for you! ;D


dux99.95

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #579 on: March 25, 2017, 12:02:21 pm »
Hey saloni! We cannot remove your Creative after feedback - This thread, beyond being a place for feedback, acts like one of those sample booklets you'd buy from NESA. Sample responses with comments saying what worked and what didn't - It's like one of those $40 booklets, but free ;D we've had lots of people who have benefitted from these threads just by reading other peoples work and seeing what worked and what didn't - So for that reason, the creative has to stay up here with the feedback :)

Note that we've been marking in NSW for a year and we've never had an issue with plagiarism or anything of the sort :) if you are still cool getting it marked I'll do it today for you! ;D



Hmmm okay, that is an awesome idea tbh. Yep please mark it!

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #580 on: March 25, 2017, 12:12:29 pm »
Hi Guys!!!

Could you please have a look at my Discovery Creative, I'm not quite sure if it's too cliché or if the tense is right throughout.
You guys are awesome!!

Thankyou!!

No worries Ellie! Your creative is attached with comments in bold ;D

Spoiler
Mum held my hand. It was trembling. Numb. Her skin against mine, cold to touch, clambered with the droplets of sweat that permeate. I could feel her rapid pulse. Boom, Boom, Boom. This use of onomatopoeia seems a little cheesy. I don't think it quite matches your tone. One after the other. Faster. I’ve never seen her like this before, riddled with fear, fear of the unknown. Her vision fixated on what’s in front, searching for some kind of solution. But this time there is no solution. No magic wand. Nothing. Very interesting introduction - Nice manipulation of sentence length and accumulation!

Her bottom lip quivered, I know she was holding back. She’s built a barrier, no one can tap inside. Scared. I like these shorter sentences scattered, but make sure they make sense. This "Scared." in the middle of nowhere doesn't quite sit right. Her eyes became covered by a sheen of water. The air in the room was thick, sterilised,  stagnate. No breath could be taken. Nothing was said. Silence dominated. You are developing a very "choppy" style of writing here - Lots of truncated sentences will do this. Not a bad thing, just an observation as to whether that is how you want it to come across. My thoughts wondered, as I search for some kind of comfort, a memory of the past.

She held my hand, the warming touch of her soften hands cured any feelings of the crisp cold air that surrounded. Her hands a golden olive hue as the rays of sun pierced through the dancing leaves of the trees that glistened against her paper thin skin.

We walked along the cement pathway, our footsteps in a synchronised rhythm one after the other, rustling the fallen autumn leaves that carpet the pathway tones of reds and gold. The hum of the bustling city that encircled, bursts of frustrated taxi horns and the ever-changing tune of the grey-bearded busker who perch along the sidewalk- Silenced. The mesmerising sway of the colourful boughs above, suspended by the ash coloured rough-barked beauty of the roots that we like to call our loyal friends, stand tall either side of the path as we transcend past. The smell was like no other, fresh and replenishing that filled our lungs with a newfound energy. Watch for OVER-DESCRIPTION - This is where you describe things in the environment that don't really need to be described. If you describe everything, you describe nothing, because the audience doesn't know which of the images you are presenting to focus on. Band 5 students can use descriptive language effectively. Band 6 students can use it carefully to achieve specific purposes.

I looked up at her face, her smile more than just a display of emotion. But rather a comforting sense of solace that soothes any sense of worry. The burnt orange glimmers of the afternoon sun illuminate her auburn short curls of hair that frame around her face, hiding the tints of grey you would never dare to mention. Her lips red as rose, always matching the nails on her hands. Her eyes a rich blue, almost like the open ocean I’ve always dreamt about.

We continued along the leaf covered path until we reached her unit in the outskirts of the city. I could always tell this was hers by the numerous plant pots that ranged in size, all with flowering blooms of roses and sprigs of herbs that sat on the front perch creating an inviting aroma that would lead anyone up to the front door. The outside of her unit was a creamy yellow hue, aged by the long hours of sun it faced in the summer months. In the middle was the enormous mahogany door curved as an arch on top, with a frosted emerald and violet arching glass widow above. I do like the contrasting images you are presenting from your introduction to here - That is great. I do think you could do it in less space though.

She lifted up the corner of the doormat to reach the key. After a few minutes of clever negotiation with the door, we finally make it inside. As usual, I felt her warm hand slide off my sweater to hang it on the clothes stand in the hallway. Above the coats was a shelf with a line of old photos and albums that I never get tired of gazing through, games to play and folded coats of hers and the ones we always forget to take home.

The hallway opened onto the dining room, Grandma’s prize possession. Centred in the middle of the room was her great, dark oak rounded table. I could never understand how Grandma’s 5’4”slim and delicate stature need such an enormous table, but I never questioned it. Faded white cotton dollies sat on top of the table, each created by Grandma’s stiffened hands. Photos and trinkets older than me, from times of war sat on the shelves that surround the room, all free of dust and chaotically ordered.

As I stood admiring each individual photo, the sound of ponding and the following aroma of mint and thyme, sparked my sensations. Immediately, pangs of hunger stirred with the thought of Grandma’s food. I left the room and sat on the wooden stool in the kitchen. Memorised by the movement of Grandma’s cooking. “This is the meal that I first ate, after the war had finished” she nostalgically continued, “everyone on the street came into our terrace for supper to celebrate, the boys were coming home!” Nice use of dialogue! Very realistic - Not easy to do! I'd get rid of "had finished" though and just say "after the war," - In my head that works a little better.

Half an hour passed, with the buzz of the oven timer. Within moments Grandma sprung up from her old mahogany arm chair, leaving her knitting needles halfway through a row. She directed me to the dining room, footsteps come nearer and never, appearing with oven gloves in hand, the smile on her face and the gleam of her blue eyes was enough to say this will be good.

The silent hushed footsteps of the nurses as they quietly did their rounds. The creases and indentations of Grandma’s wearied figure, the markers of age now revealed as the mask that once covered every wrinkle and every age, gone. The true beauty of her life, experience and memories is only to be seen. The wrinkles on her face explain the most incredible journey. The lines under her eyes told of smiles, laughter and affection. The creases above the eyebrows show the worries and doubts of her past that now lay at ease. He lines were so engrained they told the greatest story of the beam of light and energy who has travelled through eight and a half decades. Great contrast created between the remembered scene and what we now realise to be the current scene. But, I do think we took too long to get here. We were in the memory for so long it's a little bit off putting to be thrust back into this situation without any warning or indication.

Mum’s hand still quivered as the tears of attachment still rolled down her cheeks. I grasped her and Grandma’s hands. Standing in silence, my eye gaze catches the bright, golden hues of the setting sun dancing along the tree branches behind the square window above Grandma’s bed. We both immerse our focus within the natural world, the ever blue sky the shades of Grandma’s blue eyes, her auburn curls of hair now colours of the tree branches that sway. The crimson red lips blossomed as the roses caught the glimmering rays. The tears that fell along our cheeks slowly eased, as the memory of Grandma’s beauty and affection could never be forgotten.

So not many comments throughout, I think your writing style is superb! You create a very sophisticated and powerful voice and manipulate language to create clear images for the reader - Excellent work there! Not much for me to critique on a sentence-by-sentence basis.

I'd have two suggestions - One, to watch for over description. I mentioned in the comments - You use descriptive language very well. But, you use it so much, that it keeps the reader from investing in any particular image or emotion. It's like "over-saturation" - Too much of a good thing. Try to only use description where absolutely necessary - You do a great job of showing not telling but try to focus on showing the important bits. Describing the mother in such detail in the middle there, for example, is perhaps not necessary :)

Second, what's your Discovery concept here? I'm not getting a strong sense of transformation or realisation that I'd expect from a Discovery story. I think you need to adjust your story to make it more conceptually obvious, to really smack the reader with a lesson/idea. I'll leave you to think about what specifically this could be - We can definitely chat about it! But right now, I'm not quite seeing the conceptual links :)

So in summary - Fabulous writing style! Really powerful - It's just what you are using that language for that needs a bit of a fine tune in my opinion ;D

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #581 on: March 25, 2017, 02:35:36 pm »
Hmmm okay, that is an awesome idea tbh. Yep please mark it!

You got it!

Creative with Feedback
Compose a piece of original imaginative writing significantly incorporating ONE of these four images, exploring the idea of how discoveries can lead to new values or stimulate new ideas.

In a sea of white skin, pearl blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, my almond dark eyes and chocolate-brown skin always stood out. Haha - That's a gorgeous opener. I love the simple but intriguing ones like this.

I lived a life of divided portions -my Bengali sanskaar like one jigsaw piece, my Aussie upbringing another. Both pieces oddly shaped in their curves yet neither piece evenly fit any part of the other…

I try to make them fit together, only to crush their edges… Clever use of the stimulus here. It is bordering on being a tad too obvious, but I wouldn't identify it is as an issue ;D

The Aussie flag fluttered above us every morning as I stood straight and proudly sung the national anthem, inhaling unity and patriotism with my mates. Waking up to the spray of the Pacific in my face as I surfed the long East Coast and the taste of aussie beef Nicole and I sent sizzling into the air off our barbecue on Sunday arvos were the best. A few wording issues there - Can't quite follow that sentence. the waves was a casual pastime and Sunday arvo barbies with my closest gal Nicole was the best. But the moment I met a Bengali, the waves of my Aussie culture rippled away and I reconnected with my traditional heritage, finding entertainment in the gossip of our Bollywood movies and enjoying a conversation over garam chai and spicy ghugni. And that’s just the problem. Both jigsaw pieces fitted into either side of me. 

But the two never seemed to blend together. Really beautiful use of the extended metaphor here to communicate your concepts here.

I’ve lived in Australia all my seventeen years but I feel so displaced. Here seemed all the pieces, yet still I was incomplete. A little cheesy - Up to this point you've used a little more subtlety to communicate your ideas. Just having it said like this seems a little off. I needed to think this over, to know myself properly before I can feel confident to handle the world. I retreated to the basement, my “solitude place” that doubled as my little Natya Dance Theatre of my own design. Years ago, I used to dance Bharatnatyam before I decided to pack away my Bengali belongings -my allegiance to my life here. Yet, when I recalled my practices for the Arangetram now, I still felt an excited mixture of fluttering butterflies perfecting the on-off audible rhythmic footwork steps so my ghungroos chinked in sync. 

Opening the oak door, a glimmering ball of light blurred in the corner of my eye.. It lay on top of an old bedside table. Oh…I saw my ghungroos! I scooped the dance anklets and admired their cultural beauty, little brass bells enveloping a sheet of maroon fabric, handcrafted by artisans from Kolkata. Ghungroos are a mandatory component of every Bharatanatyam dance practice. You are doing a good job maintaining the understanding of an Australian audience - But the word choice still makes the multicultural elements clear. It's a great balance! When I learnt Bharatanatyam, I was so fascinated by the sweet melodies of its little bells that echoed from each tap. Though dusty and time-worn, they continued to exude vigour, energy...

And identity. You've used this 'sentence by itself' technique a few times. I love the technique, but when you use it multiple times it loses impact. I'd ditch this sentence.

My body ached to dance once more. I tied one ghungroo onto my right and then the other, the left. I'd like a little more description of this moment, I think there is potential to really flesh out the connection to culture!
Coaxing my ring finger to bend perpendicular to my palm whilst keeping my hand and fingers flat, I held the sturdy Tripataka mudra and then steadied myself in the Nattadavu position.

For a moment I could feel myself on a sunny Bondi coast, raising my chin up above the crashing waves that struggles to force me into the turbulence of the sand.. Shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath, I similarly settled into the shallows within me. Having to appear composed under the pressure of stage performances helped me learn self-control.

The Tripataka hasta denotes fire, a feeling of excitement that grew larger in me with each passing moment, ready to erupt into a thrilling show of dance. I let myself feel the beats of my ghungroos, chinking and reverberating joy and wonder. My fingers fluttered high up, arms outstretched to the sky, in the manner a bird so gracefully soars when her foot slips off a branch, in spite of the dangers of falling that lay ahead. Twirling around and around, my binary conflict seemed to unfurl like a rosebud in spring bloom, the bell sounds embracing me and each step falling like second nature, the ringing enveloping my ears and immersing my mind in the beat... Really beautiful image you are creating here. I love that you've accompanied it with longer sentences as well - Very powerful adjustment in your voice that reenforces the significance of the moment for the character.

Cham. Cham. Cham.

Dancing was a haven, a cocoon where I could let go of the outside world. In Bharatanatyam, it didn’t matter what piece of the jigsaw was my allegiance, Bharatanatyam embraced all of me, letting my ability align in the dignified movements I was blessed with.

CLANG! In my haste, I hadn’t even tied the ghungroos properly. The ghungroos fell off.

But I smile, because something else had taken its place… Those jigsaw pieces… seemed to have fit in somewhere.

The missing link to the puzzle was rediscovered.

Maybe the pieces were never meant to fit together.

Maybe I was the missing link between them all along. A little too blatant with the extended metaphor here - Try not to force it too much. It should feel very natural to the reader and this feels a little forced.

With a few deft movements the Ghungroos were back on my ankles and I was swept away. Whether I was lost in the rhythm of my dance or coursing down the faces of the waves I surfed, I was never to know. The same cool air swirled through my hair and the same twisting toes kept me from losing my balance and poise. Beautiful final integration of the two worlds here.

Perhaps, just perhaps, both jigsaw pieces could be a part of me.

And who am I to leave a puzzle incomplete?

You are a fantastic writer saloni, this is a really powerful piece! You've definitely incorporated the stimulus well, but it did feel forced at times towards the end. When incorporating your stimulus, try to do it in ways that feel natural. Towards the end there, a combination of being really direct with your concepts, and really obvious with your stimulus, just made it feel a little cheesy. It lacked the subtlety you have elsewhere in the narrative ;D

I'd like you to devote a little more time to this final section too. Make the realisation stretch out over a paragraph, two or even three. You gave the build up so much love and care, but then the realisation is only really a few sentences. It just feels a tad imbalanced ;D

In saying that, you have a great piece. It works extremely well conceptually and I think it responds to the question excellently. You should be really happy with it! ;D

dux99.95

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #582 on: March 25, 2017, 03:09:56 pm »
Omggg thanks so much Jamon for your kind feeback!!! That helped a lot and it also made me feel more confident about my creative! :) You're awesome!

Ellie__

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #583 on: March 25, 2017, 07:21:35 pm »
No worries Ellie! Your creative is attached with comments in bold ;D

Spoiler
Mum held my hand. It was trembling. Numb. Her skin against mine, cold to touch, clambered with the droplets of sweat that permeate. I could feel her rapid pulse. Boom, Boom, Boom. This use of onomatopoeia seems a little cheesy. I don't think it quite matches your tone. One after the other. Faster. I’ve never seen her like this before, riddled with fear, fear of the unknown. Her vision fixated on what’s in front, searching for some kind of solution. But this time there is no solution. No magic wand. Nothing. Very interesting introduction - Nice manipulation of sentence length and accumulation!

Her bottom lip quivered, I know she was holding back. She’s built a barrier, no one can tap inside. Scared. I like these shorter sentences scattered, but make sure they make sense. This "Scared." in the middle of nowhere doesn't quite sit right. Her eyes became covered by a sheen of water. The air in the room was thick, sterilised,  stagnate. No breath could be taken. Nothing was said. Silence dominated. You are developing a very "choppy" style of writing here - Lots of truncated sentences will do this. Not a bad thing, just an observation as to whether that is how you want it to come across. My thoughts wondered, as I search for some kind of comfort, a memory of the past.

She held my hand, the warming touch of her soften hands cured any feelings of the crisp cold air that surrounded. Her hands a golden olive hue as the rays of sun pierced through the dancing leaves of the trees that glistened against her paper thin skin.

We walked along the cement pathway, our footsteps in a synchronised rhythm one after the other, rustling the fallen autumn leaves that carpet the pathway tones of reds and gold. The hum of the bustling city that encircled, bursts of frustrated taxi horns and the ever-changing tune of the grey-bearded busker who perch along the sidewalk- Silenced. The mesmerising sway of the colourful boughs above, suspended by the ash coloured rough-barked beauty of the roots that we like to call our loyal friends, stand tall either side of the path as we transcend past. The smell was like no other, fresh and replenishing that filled our lungs with a newfound energy. Watch for OVER-DESCRIPTION - This is where you describe things in the environment that don't really need to be described. If you describe everything, you describe nothing, because the audience doesn't know which of the images you are presenting to focus on. Band 5 students can use descriptive language effectively. Band 6 students can use it carefully to achieve specific purposes.

I looked up at her face, her smile more than just a display of emotion. But rather a comforting sense of solace that soothes any sense of worry. The burnt orange glimmers of the afternoon sun illuminate her auburn short curls of hair that frame around her face, hiding the tints of grey you would never dare to mention. Her lips red as rose, always matching the nails on her hands. Her eyes a rich blue, almost like the open ocean I’ve always dreamt about.

We continued along the leaf covered path until we reached her unit in the outskirts of the city. I could always tell this was hers by the numerous plant pots that ranged in size, all with flowering blooms of roses and sprigs of herbs that sat on the front perch creating an inviting aroma that would lead anyone up to the front door. The outside of her unit was a creamy yellow hue, aged by the long hours of sun it faced in the summer months. In the middle was the enormous mahogany door curved as an arch on top, with a frosted emerald and violet arching glass widow above. I do like the contrasting images you are presenting from your introduction to here - That is great. I do think you could do it in less space though.

She lifted up the corner of the doormat to reach the key. After a few minutes of clever negotiation with the door, we finally make it inside. As usual, I felt her warm hand slide off my sweater to hang it on the clothes stand in the hallway. Above the coats was a shelf with a line of old photos and albums that I never get tired of gazing through, games to play and folded coats of hers and the ones we always forget to take home.

The hallway opened onto the dining room, Grandma’s prize possession. Centred in the middle of the room was her great, dark oak rounded table. I could never understand how Grandma’s 5’4”slim and delicate stature need such an enormous table, but I never questioned it. Faded white cotton dollies sat on top of the table, each created by Grandma’s stiffened hands. Photos and trinkets older than me, from times of war sat on the shelves that surround the room, all free of dust and chaotically ordered.

As I stood admiring each individual photo, the sound of ponding and the following aroma of mint and thyme, sparked my sensations. Immediately, pangs of hunger stirred with the thought of Grandma’s food. I left the room and sat on the wooden stool in the kitchen. Memorised by the movement of Grandma’s cooking. “This is the meal that I first ate, after the war had finished” she nostalgically continued, “everyone on the street came into our terrace for supper to celebrate, the boys were coming home!” Nice use of dialogue! Very realistic - Not easy to do! I'd get rid of "had finished" though and just say "after the war," - In my head that works a little better.

Half an hour passed, with the buzz of the oven timer. Within moments Grandma sprung up from her old mahogany arm chair, leaving her knitting needles halfway through a row. She directed me to the dining room, footsteps come nearer and never, appearing with oven gloves in hand, the smile on her face and the gleam of her blue eyes was enough to say this will be good.

The silent hushed footsteps of the nurses as they quietly did their rounds. The creases and indentations of Grandma’s wearied figure, the markers of age now revealed as the mask that once covered every wrinkle and every age, gone. The true beauty of her life, experience and memories is only to be seen. The wrinkles on her face explain the most incredible journey. The lines under her eyes told of smiles, laughter and affection. The creases above the eyebrows show the worries and doubts of her past that now lay at ease. He lines were so engrained they told the greatest story of the beam of light and energy who has travelled through eight and a half decades. Great contrast created between the remembered scene and what we now realise to be the current scene. But, I do think we took too long to get here. We were in the memory for so long it's a little bit off putting to be thrust back into this situation without any warning or indication.

Mum’s hand still quivered as the tears of attachment still rolled down her cheeks. I grasped her and Grandma’s hands. Standing in silence, my eye gaze catches the bright, golden hues of the setting sun dancing along the tree branches behind the square window above Grandma’s bed. We both immerse our focus within the natural world, the ever blue sky the shades of Grandma’s blue eyes, her auburn curls of hair now colours of the tree branches that sway. The crimson red lips blossomed as the roses caught the glimmering rays. The tears that fell along our cheeks slowly eased, as the memory of Grandma’s beauty and affection could never be forgotten.

So not many comments throughout, I think your writing style is superb! You create a very sophisticated and powerful voice and manipulate language to create clear images for the reader - Excellent work there! Not much for me to critique on a sentence-by-sentence basis.

I'd have two suggestions - One, to watch for over description. I mentioned in the comments - You use descriptive language very well. But, you use it so much, that it keeps the reader from investing in any particular image or emotion. It's like "over-saturation" - Too much of a good thing. Try to only use description where absolutely necessary - You do a great job of showing not telling but try to focus on showing the important bits. Describing the mother in such detail in the middle there, for example, is perhaps not necessary :)

Second, what's your Discovery concept here? I'm not getting a strong sense of transformation or realisation that I'd expect from a Discovery story. I think you need to adjust your story to make it more conceptually obvious, to really smack the reader with a lesson/idea. I'll leave you to think about what specifically this could be - We can definitely chat about it! But right now, I'm not quite seeing the conceptual links :)

So in summary - Fabulous writing style! Really powerful - It's just what you are using that language for that needs a bit of a fine tune in my opinion ;D


Ah THANKYOUUUUUUU!!!!! That makes complete sense!

I will definitely take on board those edits!

 ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D

jamonwindeyer

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Re: Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!
« Reply #584 on: March 26, 2017, 01:58:24 pm »
Hey,

This is my creative writing for discovery. Can someone please give me feedback on this?

Sure thing!! ;D it is attached with comments in bold!

Spoiler
The ground below him fluttered with lights. Packed with pedestrians, the streets exhaled car fumes and smoke littered from cigarette butts. A thin layer of smoke masked the sky. Across, a series of cranes and bulldozers invaded the construction site that was building the new apartments. Nice use of several types of imagery for that opening image. He shut the window; the smoke that unapologetically wafted up his nostrils and tightened his weak lungs. He sat on his couch and switched on his 32-inch flat screen TV that hung below the air conditioner. Be careful of over description - Do we really need to know the size of the TV? Keep description/detail for the important stuff. Let us show you this place where wonder grows and lead you to secrets hidden beneath green hills…to somewhere like nowhere you’ve ever seen. Images of blue skies and breezy seas flashed past the screen. It reminded him of the time he went hiking.
* * *
He walked as the stones crunched beneath his shoes. He found it. The breath-taking scenery was so foreign to him. The sky was dyed azure blue and it casted rays of gold onto the feathers of the kea which glided swiftly through the borderless skies. A dome of warmth from the sun enclosed him offering him comfort. There was a delicate, earthy scent that filled the air; the dirt, the crushed leaves of the trees. It was breezy, but he liked it. His cheeks dimpled as his lungs inflated with a dose of fresh, light air. It was cool but his lungs were relieved with ease. Nice contrast to the previous image - Especially with repetition of the lungs and the differences. You could do more with this idea - Write a copy of the above paragraph but replace key pieces to create an entirely new image.

Though his feet pleaded to rest, he became inquisitive as he continued to proceed through the pathless trees eyeing out in wonder. The cool breeze danced around his shoes, appreciating his existence. He sniffed the air, but was only greeted with a familiar smell. He wrinkled his nose. A burning cigarette butt thrown carelessly on the bush of wild lupins. Its suffocating scent chokes the crisp, light airiness of the blossoms.

‘Ok everyone, we have arrived at the peak of the mountain…’

Curious, he hiked up the coarse path to see who it was. There was a yellow flag waving in the air and so many ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’. He looked up to see twenty or so people. Some were taking photos. Some were sitting down to take a rest. As they left, plastic food packaging and travel pamphlets trailed their imprinted footsteps.

The colours of his perfect paradise drained away. He was left back to square one; the litter and physical imprints they made to such a foreign environment. How could they? Really like where you are going with this idea, very conceptually interesting.
But who was he to make such an insensitive judgement?
He too was touring the place. This seems a little unusual and a little forced - Clearly your character isn't doing the same damage as the others?
* * *
He peered out his window to the new construction site across his very own.
Destruction was inevitable.
But at least he escaped.

I really like the idea behind this story! I feel like it is quite short though - I think you should spend more time fleshing out the Discovery at the end of the story there. Not sure how, but definitely a bit more time invested at the end there to make the Discovery really shine - You need to emphasise how the characters world view has changed (you are going for the intellectual discovery, so you need to emphasise that intellectual discovery, that change in perspective).

I think the concept is great, but just a little more fleshing out at the end there to make the Discovery itself more of a focus would benefit you ;D