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Writing class!!
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Writing class!!
Writing class!!
I wanted to make a writing class for the new writers and the old. All you have to do is write your name. I will make a list and once a week I will post a new thing for you to work on. I can do it sooner too. But anyway if you join you need to write your stories on this thread. I will post the first challenge now.
Lesson 1: Pick one of the starting sentences below and write a short story starting with it.
1: The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
2: I have one brown eye and one green eye. The brown eye sees truth, but the green eye sees much more.
3: "Be nice," my father said. "After all he is your brother."
4: I am the most famous 12-year-old in the United States.
5: If somebody didn't do somthing soon there was going to be a catastrophe.
6: Ms. Fleming's wing had gone missing.
Good luck. I am going to post too.
submitted by Hello
(November 3, 2015 - 9:42 pm)
(November 3, 2015 - 9:42 pm)
Okay, let's give this a shot.
_____
I have one brown eye and one green eye. The brown eye sees truth, but the green eye sees much more.
I can see myself.
Myself in the eyes of other people.
Mostly what I see is freak. It wasn't like the thinkers would know what I have: my green eye is always covered. It never stops moving, not since birth, and it moves around like a rock from a slingshot, or your everyday squirrel. At six months old, I was brought to a optometrist to find out what the matter was with it. He was, of course, baffled; what he did not know was that he was dealing with magic, and though I knew I wasn't able to tell anyone, as I was incapable of speech at the time. So after thinking very hard and consulting all of his notes dating back to the first year of high school, he had to decide that it was a case never seen before and there were only two options.
Option one was to freeze my eye permanently. Technology was advanced enough at that point that he could do it, but it was possible that that eye could become colorblind or just plain blind.
Option two was to just slap an eye patch on me and hope nobody stared.
Of course, my parents chose option two. So I've walked around with an eye patch my whole life, seeing that others wondered why someone would need to wear an eye patch, or thinking I must be a freak.
And then she happened.
Kaydee.
I can still remeber the day quite clearly. We had been friends for two years. Kaydee was a gossipy, chatty, friendly girl who I loved (as a friend) dearly, and I was her sort of silent companion who laughed at her jokes and looked strange. That would be the politest of what people thought of me then, in any case.
I tried to shut my eye out to Kaydee, because she was such a great person. At times, when she was especially angry at me (we had fights, as all best friends do) I would hear her thoughts, and they broke my heart: but a life's worth of training tought me to block the rest out.
That day, we were going to have a sleepover. We were lying in our sleeping bags, chatting happily, when Kaydee said the dreaded words.
"D'you wanna play Truth or Dare?"
I paused. I had never liked Truth or Dare, because I always had to do or say something embarrassing. But she was my best friend, so I said, "Sure."
"I'll go first," Kaydee said. "Truth or Dare?"
I paused. I didn't like dares, but if I said truth she might ask me what was under my eye patch. "Dare."
"Oh, yes!" Kaydee laughed, and it sent chills up my spine. "Hold on, let me think."
She sat there for about three minutes, and then said, "Show me what's under your eye patch or you have to pay me five dollars."
I seriously considered running upstairs and getting the five bucks (we had been sleeping in the basement). But then I thought of my parents, drinking tea upstairs, and what they would say if I gave Kaydee money.
I lifted up my eye patch.
Kaydee screamed, and for the first time in a long while, I saw what she thought. And I felt my heart crack in two.
Monster! Freak!
She practically ran up the stairs, and her voice carried down to where I was lying. "Ms. Gennouviere? I don't feel very good. Can you call my mom and ask her to pick me up?"
I heard the chair scrape across the floor, and I knew I had lost my best friend.
***
The next day, at random times, I saw Kaydee conversing with other people, and I saw what they thought of me. It was all the same as Kaydee: Monster! Freak! Creepy, lying little girl! Why's she in school with us? What's wrong with her?
My parents noticed my gloomy mood and thought I was going through bullying, which, in a way, I was. They transferred my school, but the people from my old school had friends there, and soon that school knew about me too.
Then, a year later, something magical happened.
I sat alone at the edge of the lunch table like usual, eating my perfectly normal sandwich, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I looked up, and I looked at her with both my eyes. I saw I girl my age with yellow locks and a modest dress standing there; I also saw She looks normal. What were they talking about?
"Could I sit here?" she asked. I nodded, and she sat.
We got into a conversation, and it carried us through recess. I found out that she was Carrie, and she had moved from Alabama. We got along very well, and only at the end of the period did I ask her the dreaded question.
"But why weren't you avoiding me like the rest of them?"
She shrugged. "You just have a slight... deformation. Nothing wrong with that. You're really nice and normal besides the patch, so I thought I'd try to talk to you. You're like Auggie."
"Like who?"
"From Wonder. Haven't you read it?"
Our conversation about books carried us to our classes, where we reluctantly separated.
Carrie is still my friend. I've known her since fifth grade, and she's much better than Kaylee ever was.
I have one brown eye and one green eye. My brown eye sees the truth, but my green eye sees much more. It's deformed, but that doesn't matter anymore.
I have Carrie.
(November 5, 2015 - 7:58 pm)
The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
He was also sitting on my kitchen table.
When I saw him, naturally, I screamed. The ghost took one look at me and he started screaming too. I know screaming is actually irrational, all it does is express your fear and alert whatever you are screaming at of your presence. But we screamed anyways. Eventually, we stopped screaming.
"Hello," the ghost said, "I'm George."
I didn't quite know what to do, but my mother taught me to always be polite, so I curtsied.
"Pleased to make your aquaintance. My name is Martha."
I stared at him. He stared back at me and waved. He went back to eating his peanut butter jelly sandwich. I stared at him some more. The ghost stopped chewing.
"Hasn't anyone told you staring is impolite?"
I blushed and looked down. "I'm sorry, but I would just like to know how ever you got in here. The door is shut and locked, and the windows are too."
The ghost shrugged.
"I don't know how I get to places, all I know is I'm there."
He went back to eating his sandwich. I went back to reading my book.
Eventually, the ghost fnished his sandwhich.
"I'm sorry, but I really must be going now. It was nice getting to meet you."
I smiled at the ghost. "It was nice to meet you to. Please come visit sometimes."
The ghost reached up, and out of thin air, grabbed a hat. He tipped it to me. "Goodbye."
He vanished into thin air, and I knew I would miss my new friend the ghost.
~~~~~~
Sorry I'm not the best writer.
(November 6, 2015 - 9:37 am)
I like it! Our ghosts personalities were similar XD
(November 6, 2015 - 2:54 pm)
Thanks! I guess we had the same idea about the ghosts. I liked your ghost a little better than mine, though.
(November 8, 2015 - 3:55 pm)
Yellow (Day/sun)
Happiness dancing across the grass
Warmth seeps through comforting.
It dances then lands back to earth
A sigh of pleasure,
A phantom noise.
Then it's off leaving to comfort others.
Conciousness slips and it's gone.
(November 6, 2015 - 3:54 pm)
Can you make more story starters? Or a lesson where we write a story in a genre that you assign? Or a certain point of view? Or a point of view and a genre? That would be cool. Thanks!
(November 6, 2015 - 7:30 pm)
Sure. I will add a few more story starters and on Monday I will use your idea. Thank you.
1: The bear charged.
2: It was a lovely spring morning, the birds were singing, the flowers were opening, and somewhere a stream was running.
3: Alice stepped through the forest.
4: Jason had never felt so foolish before, and he hoped that he would never feel so foolish again.
5: It was a witchy house: that quiet grey paint, those squinting shuttered windows, and the empty porch rocker that rocked, rocked, rocked, day and night.
6: I peered into the deep sea canyon, hoping to sea the crumbling remains of an abandoned skyscraper.
(November 6, 2015 - 8:06 pm)
The bear charged. Quetzalcoatl leaped to the side, but felt the rush of wind as the changeling barrelled past. Quetz sighed in relief, but his peace was short lived, as the changeling was coming back for more. It had run into a tree in the forest they were in, and was angrier than before with a sore on its forehead. It shifted into a hawk and, wings spread to their fullest extent, sped toward him. He ducked, but the changeling wasn't fooled this time. It expected the duc duck and dove after Quetz. He jumped to his feet and ran away from the hawk as it shifted to a wolf. Snarling, it cornered him against one of the tall redwood trees. Quetz's heart thumped heavily. He worked to calm his heart and growing fear. The wolf must not sense his weakness. It steadily grew closer... Closer... Closer... Quetz could smell its foul breath, reeking of things long dead. Quetz felt the bark of the redwood begin to unfold, and he sank willingly into it.
Quetz opened his eyes. He was in a small, circular room, red like the bark of the tree he just sank into. Then he realised that he was inside the tree. A rich, resonant voice sounded in the room, and Quetz looked around, searching for the speaker. He happened to look at the ceiling if the room, soon noting that there was no ceiling, at least not one that he could see. "The changeling has gone. I am Shiaronon, the redwood. I rescued you from the changeling, remembering the kindness you had shown so long ago. It is high time that that debt was paid." the voice resounded again. Quetzalcoatl Arco was properly brought up and knew the honour of trees and the respect they deserved. Naturally, he thanked Shiaronon. "I appreciate your kindness, Shiaronon. The sapling I saved from the drought so long ago was you?"
"Yes. I remember, I believe your name is Quetzalcoatl. You saved my life. It is only right that I repay you by saving yours."
Quetz blushed. "It was nothing, really," he said modestly. "Call me Quetz," he added.
"I believe that it's safe for you to return outside, Quetz."
"In my time, I have learned that it is never safe," Quetz said. "But it may be peaceful in this area for the moment, at least. Thanks again for ask that you've done, Shiaronon. I will never forget you."
"Farewell, Quetzalcoatl Arco, and good luck to you." the tree boomed before Quetz felt himself folding through the bark again.
(November 7, 2015 - 12:30 am)
Alice stepped through the forest. It was a lovely spring morning, the birds were singing, the flowers were opening, and somewhere a stream was running. Alice might have stopped to enjoy the warm sun beating down on her back if she weren't terrified.
She paused for a moment, glancing behind her, then continued to walk. She tried to maintain a normal looking pace, as if she were just walking, but her steps were hurried and she knew it. It is rather hard to maintain a calm composure when a shadow is following you.
Alice first noticed it in the woods. Strange things lurked there, but it was neccesary to reach the town. She couldn't just go around the massive forest either, for night would have overtaken her and that is when the spirits come out. Out of the corner of Alice's attentive gaze she had noticed something peculiar. A tree. Now, the tree itself wasn't irregular in any way. The peculiar part was the fact that it had two shadows.
Alice stoped and stared for a moment. There was only one sun in that part of the world, and there was nothing else generating light. With a gasp Alice had hurried on, her eyes wide in terror.
For the extra shadow could be none other then a Shadow. There were two types of shadows, a shadow and a Shadow. The difference was one only moved with the light, while the other was free to move, to prey on living things and slowly expand until it reached the size where it could engulf everything.
Alice, being tall, was the perfect first target. The Shadow was just large enough to eat her.
So, as soon as Alice saw the village, she ran. Now, she could not hear the Shadow, but she could feel it's prescence and, glancing behind her, saw it was rapidly gaining. She panicked, using her long legs to her advantage, her long, blonde hair flowing out behind her and waving like a ribbon in the wind. Not daring to look behind her, she urged herself forward with a last burst of speed. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she sprinted into the village, skidding to a stop and leaning against the well in the center of the village.
She looked around, slowly at first, then with more panic as she found herself facing the village with no person in sight. Even the animals and horses were gone.
However, there were large, oddly shaped shadows slowly flickering in the torch light, or were they moving?
Alice blinked and suddenly a circle of shadows was surrounding her, causing her to stumble backwards with a gasp, her heart practically flying out of her mouth.
Nothing could describe the imminent feeling of doom she was facing, and the terror that racked her bones and shook her to the very core. It wasn't the type of doom that you feel when a war is going on, or your house catches fire. It was the type of doom you feel when there is no escape. When you know you are going to die, right then and there.
And that Alice did.
~~~~~~~~~~
OH my Gandalf! That turned out to be kinda morbid!!It just kinda...progressed as such...
Btw, i actually used two of the sentences to start it off! I hope that's okay!
(November 7, 2015 - 5:02 pm)
Yes yes I join.
You know, today, I was at an HSPVA (high school for the performing arts) Creative Writing Workshop. it was awesome.
(November 7, 2015 - 5:21 pm)
Hi Owlgirl! Glad to see you again! :)
(November 7, 2015 - 8:51 pm)
THE FOLLOWING POEM IS NOT BY ME.
I just thought it would be really interesting to share.
Elena, we don't have the right to post something by someone other than the person submitting it. Because the author might object.
Admin
(November 7, 2015 - 5:25 pm)
(November 8, 2015 - 12:20 pm)
Moonshadow, that was a great poem! I loved it. I am doing a unit on Mesopotamia in Social Studies and did you know that when they didn't know about smelting, iron was 5x as valuable as gold? Just a fun fact!
(November 8, 2015 - 4:08 pm)
Thanks Scylla! Neat fact!
(November 9, 2015 - 1:51 pm)