I wrote something today. It’s not going to win any awards, but as I learned from a workshop, you’re not allowed to apologize for poor writing because you’re tired and whatnot. Everything that you write is yours and everyone knows you just spun it out of thin air. Own it.
Write two 80-150 word passages, one set in modern day/realistic fiction, the other historical/fantasy. Set the readers’ age groups in different ranges, ie 8-9, 10-11, 12+, 14+
Myra flicked her mousy brown braid back, flecked with dirt, and plunged her hand into the pool. She gasped with the coldness, struggling to keep her eye on a ripple right hand corner. There was a flash of colour…then it was gone.
Seth’s face was the first to appear as Myra scuttled through the worn stone barriers that served as a door. “Sorry,” she mouthed. Eyes drooping at the corners, Seth put his hand on his stomach and lowered his head.
“Fourteen days past,” Tarka mumbled, to Myra’s surprise. The wrinkles at the corner of her eyes sharpened. “Even the slug responds faster than The High One.”
Seth began to cry, and Myra glanced imploringly at Tarka, partially out of helplessness for Seth, and partly for herself. She had a secret stash of dried berries, and hoped the beatles hadn’t gotten to them yet.
Yes I crammed way too much into that…
It all began when his mom said, “Brett, meet Jack…”
After that phone call, they jumped into the car and wound through the forested countryside away from SilverCity Cinemas, Walmarts, and everything that Brett knew and loved.
Jack was Brett’s step brother, only they weren’t very close.
Jack and Brett had never met.
Brett had held a garden snake once, but he had never slapped a high five with the hand of his own brother.
Brett was determined to like Jack, even if Jack and him weren’t alike at all.
No comments, other than I used a name to start 4 of the 6 sentences.
Can you guess which age groups and genre each piece were from?
- Fantasy, 10-12
- Fiction, 8-9
I had been having a bad week, with anxiety making me cry and avoid people as stress from school mounted. Writing, which had been a cause for anxiety all last year, finally became my solace as words flowed from my starved imagination. The progress is huge-finally I can write from the perspective of someone other than someone I want to be or messed up and kids, I do love kids. Children’s literature creative writing class could be the one to save me, if I let it. It’s the only passion I ever really had, even when I entered university and tried to grow up.
I realized that anxiety wasn’t going to go away and panicked, but I still tried my best to live my life normally. I avoided triggers, like my family, but I tried my best to socialize. I attended free yoga and dance classes on Monday, indoor rockclimbed Wednesday, and also met with fellow writing enthusiastic that day. It was a long day, but I had since grown from my mousy shell last year, and I relished in the company. Oh, and I also managed to switch into another creative writing class which I originally planned to take second semester. But several people I know are in the first semester and it fits perfectly into my schedule. Life isn’t perfect but who am I to complain? The operandi modus is to realize the positive in my life and only a fool would self sabotage themselves when they have this canvas to work with.