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Author Topic: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!  (Read 49858 times)

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elysepopplewell

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English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« on: July 26, 2016, 06:41:32 pm »
If you'd like your creative marked, you won't be able to post it until you make an ATAR Notes account here. Once you've done that, a little 'reply' button will come up when you're viewing threads, and you'll be able to copy and paste your essay and post it up here for us to mark!

Hey everyone!! Welcome to the Extension 1 Creative Marking Thread. This thread is here for you to get feedback on your Creatives from a Band 6 student. This resource exists to help you guys make huge improvements on your writing... Too often, teachers just write "good" or "needs explaining" or "expand". SUPER. FRUSTRATING. This is a place to properly improve :) :) :)

Before posting, please read the essay marking rules/rationale here.

Post away, and happy studies!!  ;D ;D
« Last Edit: August 04, 2017, 08:40:42 pm by jamonwindeyer »
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cmaatouk

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #1 on: July 26, 2016, 08:46:17 pm »
Here is my extension creative writing, based on the area of Romanticism! It's pretty shit so as much feedback as possible would be awesome! Thank you  :D

   I followed the herd of men into the woods. The copper sky darkening as white moon light penetrated the forest. They all took turns to beat a man. They all cheered when his blood splattered, tainting the grass that was green as emerald. Then I did a hellish thing. I struck him down... and he didn’t get back up.
   I was left with the task of disposing the corpse. I’d never seen a dead man before that. His face was contorted in agony and his skin white as leprosy. I didn’t move the body right away, my shock weighing me down like chains. I stared at it for some time. I stared at it and searched for the appropriate feeling as a murderer. I began to feel vexed, why should I pity him? He did not deserve to live!
   But then a heavy sadness fell upon me. I was sad that I had killed a man who had done me no harm. I was sad that in killing this man I had taken him away from his wife and children. I was sad that in killing this man I had lost a part of me I can never regain. My pulse began to thump painful as I thought about my own family who would never survive without my humble income.

   This morning, imaginary chains tied me to the crowd who I followed like a coward, too afraid to stand up for justice. I helped drag one of the five cannons onto the courtyard, hidden by smoke. We aimed them at the Bastille. It wasn’t long before the flag was raised, like a wounded dove flapping in the sky. We stormed the prison. Seven prisoners were freed, joy plastered on their faces. But Bernard-René Jordan de Launay had fear shining in his eyes. He was dragged off, men tearing at him, blood lust burning in their eyes. I remember him looking at me and begging for mercy.
   “Please” he said, “spare me, for the sake of my wife and son-”
   But before he could seize my heart a man next to me slammed the butt of his gun on Launay’s face. He struck him down, and he got back up. Like a sheep, I followed the crowd, the chants of victory from my comrades downed out my conscious like a wall in my mind, suppressing the feeling that our actions were wrong.
   He was meant to be handed over to the Revolutionary Council, but instead we hauled him out to the woods and did the unthinkable. The mere thought of what I’ve done turns my stomach inside out.

   I looked down at the former Governor of the Bastille. This man did not deserve such a disgraceful death, I owe him a respectful burial. One I cannot afford. I dragged his body out of the woods and left him on the side of the road. But before I walked away I saw an Iris sprouting from the ground. A sign of life and renewal. Our national flower. I reach out meaning to pick the flower to place on Launay’s body. But I didn’t, because to pick that flower would mean killing another living thing. To pick that flower would cause it to decay and become not a symbol of life, but of death.
   When I arrived home, my wife had a meal laid out on the table for me. But I ignored the meaty soup and instead went into the small garden. I sat on the rickety bench, that my father build with his bare hands.
   The wind whispered comforting words into my ear. The stars twinkled, blinking with hope. A presence soothes my pained heart. I breathe out all of my hate and sadness and breathe in love and happiness.
   As a child when I fell over and bruised my knee, the only thing that made everything better was when my father walked me around the farm. But with age came change. That beautiful landscape that brought me joy had to be left behind. Father got a job in the factories. I always said that I would one day would go back to the place I loved so much. But I grew up and began to work in the factories. I was never able to escape them. The only solitude I have is here, in this small patch of green behind my humble abode.


   The next day, I walked the streets of Paris, to make my way to the factory in which I was to slave away. But upon this journey my attention was drawn to a crowd that was loud and growing. I had no interest in taking apart after the events of the day that had passed, but curiosity drew me to see what the hustle and bustle was for.
   I nearly threw up my breakfast at the sight before me. The butcher, Pierre, was parading around with a pike. Singing Viva la France. Upon that pike was the head of Governor de Launay. Horror gripped my frame. Nausea filled me. I fluttered like a limp leaf in the wind.
   I never made it to the factory that day. I went home and packed our bags. We moved back to the country. We ran away from the Revolution. I have learnt that the simple life is the best life.

jamonwindeyer

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #2 on: July 26, 2016, 08:53:31 pm »
Here is my extension creative writing, based on the area of Romanticism! It's pretty shit so as much feedback as possible would be awesome! Thank you  :D

Hey there cmaatouk! Welcome to the forums!!  ;D

Thanks for posting your creative. Unfortunately, we require that every user has 5 ATAR Notes posts for every essay/creative they'd like marked. So 1 creative needs 5 posts, 5 creatives need 25 posts, etc. This is to ensure that the service remains accessible and attainable for active members of the ATAR Notes community. Feel free to hang around the forums, ask some questions, say hey in our chit chat thread, and build up your post count! Then just pop back in and let us know when you meet the threshold. Thanks in advance!!  ;D

Lauradf36

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #3 on: August 02, 2016, 10:05:26 pm »
Can I still post my creative here for feedback?? If not don't worry!
I got my mark back and I got 23/25, not exactly sure why (not much feedback  >:() but I need to do it for trials pretty soon anyway!

As free as a bird?

“Fanny Godwin? Do you present any knowledge to transform us this afternoon?”
The teacher’s biting tone stings my skin through the stagnant air of the classroom as his pipe dangles from protruding lips. A cane rests in his hand, ready for the slip of a chanting tongue.
Each boy’s pair of passive eyes stares as I heave myself out of my seat, knees quivering, lips hanging open with the suggestion of speaking. Trembling, I twirl a strand of coffee-brown hair around pallid fingertips.
Outside, newly sprouted buildings teeter into the sky, exhaling dusty fumes. I ignore them and glance up at the careful zig-zag of the chalkboard boring into my mind.
No more of this.
“As I sit, amidst the golden melodies of falling leaves, it is here I drink in the cry of the roaring river calling to the essence of my being. The wind begins to flow, with it’s fresh breath as free as a…”
“No, no, NO!” I jump as the teacher appears to slam his cane on my wooden desk like the very sword of Napoleon, face red and commanding in its fury. Savagely, he rips the slate from my lingering grasp. “What is this poetic nonsense?”
Titters of laughter fill the air in a derisive chorus. My eyes prickle with burning, fiery tears.
“Gentleman, please learn from our dear student,” the man drawls, puffing out streams of smoke with a sneering smile. Careless black eyes set my heart ablaze with dangerous fury — it yearns to be freed from this icy cage.
“Young ladies should not be writing fanciful or imaginative tales. Next time, Fanny, exercise your logic and restraint for us. Yes sir?”
“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Pain courses through my body as I struggle to lift a coffee-brown wing chained to the cold, metal floor. My claws scratch the silvery surface, screaming to escape from their fetters.

My world is one only of restraint. Logic. The vertical bars I have been forced to call my ‘home’. The occasional smattering of seeds thrown in by the monstrous human. Every now and then his eyes bulging in at my feathered form, perhaps giving a poke. My desperate pleas for help, for release, with a faltering cuckoo cry.
My words falling on dull, ignorant ears.
Time is irrelevant in this emotionless existence. The eternal monotony of dark, light, food, dark, sleep is all I can recall. Hope seems a dwindling promise at the end of a non-existent tunnel.

It wasn’t always like this.

I recall sorrowfully the clear azure of the sky, the dusky pink hues it would emit as the glowing light began to dim. The translucent waters waving beneath me, the flowing zig-zag of the grass, the flowers bending their heads in polite, gentle nods.
Time would flow effortlessly past as day gave way to the crisp, cool throngs of night. I can still imagine the stars raining their bright breath over me, blinking innocently as they twirled and spun in sublime expanses of speckled colours smeared through the clouds.
Complete freedom to explore every crack and crevice of mind and body, united with the natural realm, unrestrained by society.

Until: the caging.
That dreadful moment when a smoke-blowing, sneering human turned every colour to grey with one thrust of his red hands.

I still remember benevolent humans whose eyes would dampen to see my companions injured, or underfed. Some would scatter seeds and bread on nearby pathways, the small ones would clap in delight.
It is for these memories that I continue hoping. Hoping there is goodness in the essence of this complex human — who can be so kind and sympathetic one moment, so cold and cruel the next.

My spirits elevate as a lithe, pale girl emerges from the blackened sky behind her. Her infrequent visits bring innocent smiles and gentle benevolence.
It is her emotions alone that preserve my yearning for that same humanity.
“I am awfully sorry to have left you alone, beauty,” she sighs dispiritedly, extending a hand overflowing with nuts and seeds through the bars. “At last Mr Godwin let me finish all those dreadful chores…”
I am concerned to see her face slump at the words. These days, the names of William and Mary Godwin seem only to bring oppressive sadness.
Bending down, her brow furrows to see my rusting chains.
“As free as a bird,” she whispers. Tears filling her emerald eyes, she reaches in to stroke my brown, striped feathers. “If only it could change.”
“It can, it can!” I cry, helplessly rattling the chains grasping my claws. But her back is turned, and my visionary hope is swallowed once more into billows of smoke.

* * *

The evening breeze gestures me down to Winchester’s River Itchen as I enter the temple of it’s presence. Willow fronds brush my forehead gently as their curtains slide open. I smile as flecks of light bounce off the cool water onto sunburnt planks of wood. The sky is awash with the sun’s final blessing, misty clouds intermingled with mellifluous pink and orange light.
It is here, with time interrupted only by the comings and goings of the tide, that I am completely united with the essence of my being.
“Logic and restraint,” I mutter, turning reluctantly from the brilliant blushing light shining onto dancing waters. “Exercise your logic and restraint…”
I lean back on the delicately arching bridge with slate pencil poised for destruction.
Silence washes over me with a calming hand, soft and sonorous, far removed from the roar of authority. It’s a solitude that hangs on your every thought and feeling, allows them to transform the dictation of the social realm.

Grimly, I ravage my memory for vestiges of the logical ideas my teacher commands me to spit back in his face.
All the moment offers is bright blue water, wandering white clouds, gleaming red rays illuminating a rippling horizon. Three shades crying out for change.
As the sky begins to dance with a conglomeration of colour, my lips can no longer be silenced. The words fall easily from my tongue:
“My heart leaps up when I behold, a rainbow in the sky…
So was it when my life began; 
So is it now I am a man; 
So be it when I shall grow old, 
   Or let me die!” (W. Wordsworth, 1803)

My spirits are elevated by the poet’s glorious new words. As each willow sways freely around me, brushing delicate fingertips against my skin, I can only imagine a world released from the chains of authority into their warm embrace.
I hardly comprehend the sky slowly disappearing into a purple bruise of smoke, the streets beginning to rumble noisily without the sunshine urging them into their proper duty.

My eyes are firmly fixed on the horizon.

* * *

The girl’s face is clear as she bursts into the room with a stream of morning light. It transforms my cage with refracted colours, overwhelming the darkness that hides behind them.
“Hello, girl,” she beams unexpectedly. Green eyes glow with excitement. “Today is the day it will change, you hear me?”
Feverishly, she begins to fiddle with the rusting locks that bind me. Her hands tremble, face flushed inexplicably, as she utters — “Today you will have freedom.”

I am surrounded at once by air. Unhindered space. My heart beats faster, faster until I think it will burst out of my chest.

Is this — freedom?

I exhale a feeble “thank you” as her eyes open wide, watching for my jubilant egress.
Clenching my wings, I hobble determinedly to the edge of the grey expanse. For an instant I stumble and squawk in pain, but before long, my feathers are spread wide and soaring unchained through the open skies.

My heart leaps up with pure joy at the sight of the brilliant clear sky which had awaited me  so long, the sunlight dazzling my eyes as it bounces off glistening green leaves.
I glance down ecstatically to see a kaleidoscope of colour covering the ground beneath, red, blue, and white flashing before my eyes. Flowers are clustered in bright bunches that reach out, poking holes in the stratosphere to bask in golden rays of light. Each colour seems brighter, clearer than I had imagined, as if to cry out in happiness that it may freely shine!

Then — black.

Every ounce of joy vanishes as my body is flung into a magnanimous grey building protruding from the hazy air. It’s piercing zenith towers higher than the clouds, as if it were about to topple over from the weight of the burden it carried. Bursts of soiled air infiltrate the sky as they spit from grotesquely twisting pipes.
Everything is enveloped by an opaque smog dimming each colour with it’s own sooty hue. It is redolent of sulphur and coal, mingled with the faintly metallic flavour of blood.
Heart pounding, I swoop lower. Perhaps this is an oddity of nature I had never experienced.

It is then that I see the humans, pouring from every crack and crevice of creation. Humans that are swallowed into yawning black mouths beneath them. Marching with lumps of dark matter strapped to their tiny frames. Thrashing iron helplessly with terrifying weapons. Bending to be beaten by unrestrained men, red hands just like my captor’s.

Rarely reappearing into disappearing green meadows.

More red men stand to the left of the river, which by now appears ominously viscous and reeks of sewage. They point and laugh at large expanses of grass before them, fold their arms across protruding stomachs.
Beside them sit shrivelled figures wearing withered farmer’s hats. Disfigured bodies wracked by hacking coughs. Children left in their own waste as tears burn gashes in sooty flesh. Small damp huts which reek of rotting flesh and crying mothers.

All pleading for a simple human benevolence that doesn't appear to exist.

No one scatters them seeds. No one tears them bread. No one has a tear in their eye, only a plank of wood as they may bark orders while holding others in chains.
This blackened sky was no feat of the natural realm I had so naively yearned for.

Humans.

Without a cage like mine, humans had twisted nature’s perfect world into their own disfigured creature.

Their darkness had covered every inch of emerald grass until only spattered blood remained in vision.
And the colours. The beautiful colours of the flowers, red, blue, and white, are painted on a flag that is trampled in the dust on the side of the road.

Is this — freedom?

For at last, I have seen the freedom for what it is — a monster. A black, smoky monster allowed to permeate every emotion until all that remains is red blood of victory.

Somehow, a cold, logical cage seems only too inviting.

* * *

The bird soars high above me with coffee-brown wings outstretched. Amidst the din of steam engines and clanging metal, my heart is lifted to see her released from her own icy cage.
Time eludes us as I watch it scale the clouds, dive through streams of smoke to find each clear patch of sky, completely unbound by the jailer’s fetters.

My heart stops as my friend is stagnated by a thick haze. Flecks of dirt block my vision as the puffing billy rolls past, clouds billowing out of teetering nostrils.
The train hurtles dangerously into the future, never looking back to see the dark trails it leaves behind.
Disoriented, I peer frantically around for the bird’s small, feathered frame to reappear.

When the mist clears, all that remains is emptied, smoky skies.

Surely it is still basking in the warm embrace of willow fronds? Surely it has not returned to chains of reason?
Running, panting, I return to the village with bated breath. My mind races as red, blue, and white flashes past me in a blur of distorted and undefined shapes.
Yet when I reach the teacher’s house, the bird sits placidly on the cold, metal floor of her cage. I peer with horror into her tiny, yellow eyes.
No longer are they filled with restless pain, a creative yearning to be released from her chains. Now, all I see is a dutiful acceptance — that seems almost to long for the logic and restraint of vertical bars.

Grief is heavy on my tongue as I whisper: “As free as a bird?”

I cannot understand.
ATAR: 98.85

English Adv: 94
English Ext: 47/50
Ancient history: 94
Legal studies: 94
Music I: 93
Religion II: 95

elysepopplewell

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  • "Hey little fighter, soon it will be brighter."
Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #4 on: August 03, 2016, 05:36:40 pm »
Can I still post my creative here for feedback?? If not don't worry!
I got my mark back and I got 23/25, not exactly sure why (not much feedback  >:() but I need to do it for trials pretty soon anyway!


23/25 before trials? Amazing! What a solid effort! It's only up from here :)

Spoiler
As free as a bird?

“Fanny Godwin? Do you present any knowledge to transform us this afternoon?”
The teacher’s biting tone stings my skin through the stagnant air of the classroom as his pipe dangles from protruding lips. Ooh! I love the pipe. A cane rests in his hand, ready for the slip of a chanting tongue.
Each boy’s pair of passive eyes stares as I heave myself out of my seat, knees quivering, lips hanging open with the suggestion of speaking. Trembling, I twirl a strand of coffee-brown hair around pallid fingertips.
Outside, newly sprouted buildings teeter into the sky, exhaling dusty fumes. I ignore them and glance up at the careful zig-zag of the chalkboard boring into my mind.
No more of this.
“As I sit, amidst the golden melodies of falling leaves, it is here I drink in the cry of the roaring river calling to the essence of my being. The wind begins to flow, with it’s fresh breath as free as a…”
“No, no, NO!” I jump as the teacher appears to slam his cane on my wooden desk like the very sword of Napoleon, face red and commanding in its fury. Savagely, he rips the slate from my lingering grasp. “What is this poetic nonsense?”
Titters of laughter fill the air in a derisive chorus. My eyes prickle with burning, fiery tears.
“Gentleman, please learn from our dear student,” the man drawls, puffing out streams of smoke with a sneering smile. Careless black eyes set my heart ablaze with dangerous fury — it yearns to be freed from this icy cage.
“Young ladies should not be writing fanciful or imaginative tales. Next time, Fanny, exercise your logic and restraint for us. Yes sir?”
“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Pain courses through my body as I struggle to lift a coffee-brown wing chained to the cold, metal floor. My claws scratch the silvery surface, screaming to escape from their fetters.

My world is one only of restraint. Logic. The vertical bars I have been forced to call my ‘home’. The occasional smattering of seeds thrown in by the monstrous human. Every now and then his eyes bulging in at my feathered form, perhaps giving a poke. My desperate pleas for help, for release, with a faltering cuckoo cry.
My words falling on dull, ignorant ears.
Time is irrelevant in this emotionless existence. The eternal monotony of dark, light, food, dark, sleep is all I can recall. Hope seems a dwindling promise at the end of a non-existent tunnel.

It wasn’t always like this.
At this point I just want to tell you how hard it is to flaw this.
I recall sorrowfully the clear azure of the sky, the dusky pink hues it would emit as the glowing light began to dim. The translucent waters waving beneath me, the flowing zig-zag of the grass, the flowers bending their heads in polite, gentle nods.
Time would flow effortlessly past as day gave way to the crisp, cool throngs of night. I can still imagine the stars raining their bright breath over me, blinking innocently as they twirled and spun in sublime expanses of speckled colours smeared through the clouds.
Complete freedom to explore every crack and crevice of mind and body, united with the natural realm, unrestrained by society.

Until: the caging. This came at a perfect time. Towards the end of the last paragraph, I was still following but my engagement was weakening. Then I was brought back into it wonderfully here. Excellent job!
That dreadful moment when a smoke-blowing, sneering human turned every colour to grey with one thrust of his red hands.

I still remember benevolent humans whose eyes would dampen to see my companions injured, or underfed. Some would scatter seeds and bread on nearby pathways, the small ones would clap in delight.
It is for these memories that I continue hoping. Hoping there is goodness in the essence of this complex human — who can be so kind and sympathetic one moment, so cold and cruel the next.

My spirits elevate as a lithe, pale girl emerges from the blackened sky behind her. Her infrequent visits bring innocent smiles and gentle benevolence.
It is her emotions alone that preserve my yearning for that same humanity.
“I am awfully sorry to have left you alone, beauty,” she sighs dispiritedly, extending a hand overflowing with nuts and seeds through the bars. “At last Mr Godwin let me finish all those dreadful chores…”
I am concerned to see her face slump at the words. These days, the names of William and Mary Godwin seem only to bring oppressive sadness.
Bending down, her brow furrows to see my rusting chains.
“As free as a bird,” she whispers. Tears filling her emerald eyes, she reaches in to stroke my brown, striped feathers. “If only it could change.”
“It can, it can!” I cry, helplessly rattling the chains grasping my claws. But her back is turned, and my visionary hope is swallowed once more into billows of smoke.

* * *

The evening breeze gestures me down to Winchester’s River Itchen as I enter the temple of it’s presence. Willow fronds brush my forehead gently as their curtains slide open. I smile as flecks of light bounce off the cool water onto sunburnt planks of wood. The sky is awash with the sun’s final blessing, misty clouds intermingled with mellifluous pink and orange light. Mellifluous is a word used to describe sound, and you've used it to describe light. Consider picking a new word :)
It is here, with time interrupted only by the comings and goings of the tide, that I am completely united with the essence of my being.
“Logic and restraint,” I mutter, turning reluctantly from the brilliant blushing light shining onto dancing waters. “Exercise your logic and restraint…”
I lean back on the delicately arching bridge with slate pencil poised for destruction.
Silence washes over me with a calming hand, soft and sonorous, far removed from the roar of authority. It’s a solitude that hangs on your every thought and feeling, allows them to transform the dictation of the social realm.

Grimly, I ravage my memory for vestiges of the logical ideas my teacher commands me to spit back in his face.
All the moment offers is bright blue water, wandering white clouds, gleaming red rays illuminating a rippling horizon. Three shades crying out for change.
As the sky begins to dance with a conglomeration of colour, my lips can no longer be silenced. The words fall easily from my tongue:
“My heart leaps up when I behold, a rainbow in the sky…
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
   Or let me die!” (W. Wordsworth, 1803)

My spirits are elevated by the poet’s glorious new words. As each willow sways freely around me, brushing delicate fingertips against my skin, I can only imagine a world released from the chains of authority into their warm embrace.
I hardly comprehend the sky slowly disappearing into a purple bruise of smoke, the streets beginning to rumble noisily without the sunshine urging them into their proper duty.

My eyes are firmly fixed on the horizon.

* * *

The girl’s face is clear as she bursts into the room with a stream of morning light. It transforms my cage with refracted colours, overwhelming the darkness that hides behind them.
“Hello, girl,” she beams unexpectedly. Green eyes glow with excitement. “Today is the day it will change, you hear me?”
Feverishly, she begins to fiddle with the rusting locks that bind me. Her hands tremble, face flushed inexplicably, as she utters — “Today you will have freedom.”

I am surrounded at once by air. Unhindered space. My heart beats faster, faster until I think it will burst out of my chest.

Is this — freedom?

I exhale a feeble “thank you” as her eyes open wide, watching for my jubilant egress.
Clenching my wings, I hobble determinedly to the edge of the grey expanse. For an instant I stumble and squawk in pain, but before long, my feathers are spread wide and soaring unchained through the open skies.

My heart leaps up with pure joy at the sight of the brilliant clear sky which had awaited me  so long, the sunlight dazzling my eyes as it bounces off glistening green leaves.
I glance down ecstatically to see a kaleidoscope of colour covering the ground beneath, red, blue, and white flashing before my eyes. Flowers are clustered in bright bunches that reach out, poking holes in the stratosphere to bask in golden rays of light. Each colour seems brighter, clearer than I had imagined, as if to cry out in happiness that it may freely shine!

Then — black.

Every ounce of joy vanishes as my body is flung into a magnanimous grey building protruding from the hazy air. It’s piercing zenith towers higher than the clouds, as if it were about to topple over from the weight of the burden it carried. Bursts of soiled air infiltrate the sky as they spit from grotesquely twisting pipes.
Everything is enveloped by an opaque smog dimming each colour with it’s own sooty hue. It is redolent of sulphur and coal, mingled with the faintly metallic flavour of blood.
Heart pounding, I swoop lower. Perhaps this is an oddity of nature I had never experienced.

It is then that I see the humans, pouring from every crack and crevice of creation. Humans that are swallowed into yawning black mouths beneath them. Marching with lumps of dark matter strapped to their tiny frames. Thrashing iron helplessly with terrifying weapons. Bending to be beaten by unrestrained men, red hands just like my captor’s.

Rarely reappearing into disappearing green meadows.

More red men stand to the left of the river, which by now appears ominously viscous and reeks of sewage. They point and laugh at large expanses of grass before them, fold their arms across protruding stomachs.
Beside them sit shrivelled figures wearing withered farmer’s hats. Disfigured bodies wracked by hacking coughs. Children left in their own waste as tears burn gashes in sooty flesh. Small damp huts which reek of rotting flesh and crying mothers.

All pleading for a simple human benevolence that doesn't appear to exist.

No one scatters them seeds. No one tears them bread. No one has a tear in their eye, only a plank of wood as they may bark orders while holding others in chains.
This blackened sky was no feat of the natural realm I had so naively yearned for.

Humans.

Without a cage like mine, humans had twisted nature’s perfect world into their own disfigured creature.

Their darkness had covered every inch of emerald grass This is being picky, but I think you described someone's eyes as emeralf above. If this is the case, try pick a new adjective here to keep it varied. until only spattered blood remained in vision.
And the colours. The beautiful colours of the flowers, red, blue, and white, are painted on a flag that is trampled in the dust on the side of the road.

Is this — freedom?

For at last, I have seen the freedom for what it is — a monster. A black, smoky monster allowed to permeate every emotion until all that remains is red blood of victory.

Somehow, a cold, logical cage seems only too inviting.

* * *

The bird soars high above me with coffee-brown wings outstretched. Amidst the din of steam engines and clanging metal, my heart is lifted to see her released from her own icy cage.
Time eludes us as I watch it scale the clouds, dive through streams of smoke to find each clear patch of sky, completely unbound by the jailer’s fetters.

My heart stops as my friend is stagnated by a thick haze. Flecks of dirt block my vision as the puffing billy rolls past, clouds billowing out of teetering nostrils.
The train hurtles dangerously into the future, never looking back to see the dark trails it leaves behind.
Disoriented, I peer frantically around for the bird’s small, feathered frame to reappear.

When the mist clears, all that remains is emptied, smoky skies.

Surely it is still basking in the warm embrace of willow fronds? Surely it has not returned to chains of reason?
Running, panting, I return to the village with bated breath. My mind races as red, blue, and white flashes past me in a blur of distorted and undefined shapes.
Yet when I reach the teacher’s house, the bird sits placidly on the cold, metal floor of her cage. I peer with horror into her tiny, yellow eyes.
No longer are they filled with restless pain, a creative yearning to be released from her chains. Now, all I see is a dutiful acceptance — that seems almost to long for the logic and restraint of vertical bars.

Grief is heavy on my tongue as I whisper: “As free as a bird?”

I cannot understand.

I think this piece is WONDERFUL!

I see no reason for this to not be 25/25. In saying this, I don't know your module very well so I can't comment on the requirements there. But the expression of the story, much alike to your expression in an essay, is wonderful. Everything is incredibly clear. You used the coffee-brown expression twice, if not three times. Consider if this is the most expressive way to convey a colour. Otherwise, I want to be incredibly picky and pull this apart so that you can put it back together but I just don't have enough to pick on. This was a wonderful story and I loved reading it, I was so engaged. Everything flowed so smoothly, the plot was set out wonderfully. You are a very skilled writer, do you know that?

Again, I'm sorry I can't help more. I really want to, but I don't know what to say! It's brilliant!
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Lauradf36

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #5 on: August 04, 2016, 04:56:52 pm »
Quote
I see no reason for this to not be 25/25. In saying this, I don't know your module very well so I can't comment on the requirements there. But the expression of the story, much alike to your expression in an essay, is wonderful. Everything is incredibly clear. You used the coffee-brown expression twice, if not three times. Consider if this is the most expressive way to convey a colour. Otherwise, I want to be incredibly picky and pull this apart so that you can put it back together but I just don't have enough to pick on. This was a wonderful story and I loved reading it, I was so engaged. Everything flowed so smoothly, the plot was set out wonderfully. You are a very skilled writer, do you know that?

Again, I'm sorry I can't help more. I really want to, but I don't know what to say! It's brilliant!

Haha thanks so much. I agree about the coffee-brown, I just wanted to create a really clear correlation between the girl & the bird and wasn't exactly sure what symbol to use!
Thanks again for your feedback  ;D
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elysepopplewell

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #6 on: August 04, 2016, 05:17:26 pm »
Haha thanks so much. I agree about the coffee-brown, I just wanted to create a really clear correlation between the girl & the bird and wasn't exactly sure what symbol to use!
Thanks again for your feedback  ;D

I figured you were trying to do this! Perhaps say something like, "The birds wings were coloured as though coffee had spilt on them" or something like that! That way you are using the imagery, but not being repetitious! :)
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kassidyfisher

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #7 on: August 13, 2016, 10:10:08 pm »
Is it okay to post my creative here? I am desperate for help, as it only got an 18/25 in the area of science fiction. Is it only 5 posts required for creative feedback? My exam is on monday :(

ssarahj

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #8 on: August 14, 2016, 10:48:09 am »
Hi! Here is a Life Writing creative that I wrote, and I would love some feedback/marking!

This is the rubric:
In this elective, students explore and evaluate nonfiction texts composed in a range of media
that represent lives or aspects of lives. Texts such as biographies, autobiographies, memoirs and documentaries may record a life story and may at the same time examine the processes and conventions of representing that life or aspects of it. Many examples of life writing address the question of whether
or not the facts, events and experiences of an individual’s life can ever be comprehensively portrayed
in a single text: they explore the diverse ways in which a life can be represented, interpreted and
valued. Although texts within this genre may include fictional elements, they are characteristically nonfictional accounts.

Here is the criteria: (For an A range mark [13-15/15])
* Shows sophisticated ability to shape an original narrative that reflects knowledge and understanding of interpretation/values/progress in the elective
* Demonstrates a sophisticated understanding of the elective
* Displays sophisticated control of language

Response is attached

Thank you in advanced!!



Is it okay to post my creative here? I am desperate for help, as it only got an 18/25 in the area of science fiction. Is it only 5 posts required for creative feedback? My exam is on monday :(

Hey guys! Unfortunately you both haven't met the posting requirements to receive feedback. The post exchange policy is explained here Free Essay Marking Explanation and Policies but in short it's 15 posts per essay/creative, so if you hang around the forums for a bit longer you'll be up to 15 in no time! We're all really keen to help you out so just let us know when you reach the post count and your creative pieces will be marked. Thanks!  ;D
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heliosmusic

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #9 on: September 14, 2016, 09:28:38 pm »
Amazing!

melprocrastinator

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #10 on: September 14, 2016, 10:00:01 pm »
HEY Elyse,
i was wondering, for extension english creative pieces, how sophisticated does the language need to be? Should i be trying to incorporate alot of imagery?
For example, one of my character's is a bit rowdy and "uneducated" so i dont see it fitting to use big words with him.
Also, there is alot of dialogue in my story, do you think thats an issue?

My module is Comedy btw, it presents certain challenges for sure. Although im sure every module does :D


elysepopplewell

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #11 on: September 15, 2016, 02:13:34 pm »
HEY Elyse,
i was wondering, for extension english creative pieces, how sophisticated does the language need to be? Should i be trying to incorporate alot of imagery?
For example, one of my character's is a bit rowdy and "uneducated" so i dont see it fitting to use big words with him.
Also, there is alot of dialogue in my story, do you think thats an issue?

My module is Comedy btw, it presents certain challenges for sure. Although im sure every module does :D

Hey! I think that you've made the right choice about your rowdy character. So much of characterisation can come from dialogue. One example I always think of is how people tend to call character's parents "mothers" when that's more of a rarity than "mums." It's usually because we like to use our own formal language, even though it doesn't represent the character's communication. So definitely keep the language as you can imagine it coming from the mouth of your character!

As for dialogue.... the problem with a very dialogue-dense story is that it can be monotonous. Of course, if what is being expressed in the dialogue is the opposite of monotonous, you've already counteracted part of that problem. If you're breaking up the dialogue with actions, thoughts, and other physical forms of communication, there shouldn't be an issue. If you think the dialogue is limiting your creative expression (showing off your best stuff to the marker) then reconsider if dialogue is the best way of describing particular parts of the story. Essentially, don't stress that dialogue is too overpowering. Consider more, "is dialogue the best way to convey this section?" And, "As a reader, am I still engaged at this point?"
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melprocrastinator

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #12 on: September 15, 2016, 04:20:26 pm »
Hey! I think that you've made the right choice about your rowdy character. So much of characterisation can come from dialogue. One example I always think of is how people tend to call character's parents "mothers" when that's more of a rarity than "mums." It's usually because we like to use our own formal language, even though it doesn't represent the character's communication. So definitely keep the language as you can imagine it coming from the mouth of your character!

As for dialogue.... the problem with a very dialogue-dense story is that it can be monotonous. Of course, if what is being expressed in the dialogue is the opposite of monotonous, you've already counteracted part of that problem. If you're breaking up the dialogue with actions, thoughts, and other physical forms of communication, there shouldn't be an issue. If you think the dialogue is limiting your creative expression (showing off your best stuff to the marker) then reconsider if dialogue is the best way of describing particular parts of the story. Essentially, don't stress that dialogue is too overpowering. Consider more, "is dialogue the best way to convey this section?" And, "As a reader, am I still engaged at this point?"

I see your point, ill have to take another look at it. Maybe ill post it when i build up  enough "points" Thankyou for all the advice x

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #13 on: September 17, 2016, 03:23:04 pm »
I see your point, ill have to take another look at it. Maybe ill post it when i build up  enough "points" Thankyou for all the advice x

Whatever way you find creates an engaging, thoughtful, voice in a text, is the best way! My advice is of course given without knowing your story or the voice you are creating. Whatever creates a voice that is accessible and engaging, is the best!
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Lauradf36

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Re: English Extension One Creative Writing Thread!
« Reply #14 on: October 03, 2016, 08:01:23 pm »
This is my second creative piece that took me ages to write, but I finally got out of writers block today and motored through it! So it is still technically ~in progress~ but if anyone has time to have a read, it'd be cool to get some opinions.
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