Creative Writing @ Duke’s
Keep checking this page for competitions and activities!
Why should you write creatively?
Creative writing is a brilliant way to express yourself and develop your imagination. It can also have a positive impact on your emotional and intellectual skills.
By creating a story, you can channel and develop your emotions. You can show empathy with a character, express different emotions experienced by characters as they experience different situations. In addition to this, you will improve your vocabulary, sentence structuring and use of punctuation. All of these allow for improved written communication which will help you in school and beyond.
Another benefit of creative writing is improved organisational skills. When plotting a storyline or planning a story, you have to organise your ideas using flowcharts, notes and mind maps. These are all transferable skills into other areas of school e.g. revision, as well as being important skills you’ll need in your adult life.
Creative thinking and using your imagination improves your problem solving ability and deepens your thinking processes which can be used in all areas of your learning. By refining your creative skills, you are improving your ability to focus and showing commitment and dedication to a task. Again, these are important skills for success in school and the world of work.
Halloween Creative Writing Competition
Here are some YouTube videos which might help to inspire you:
After I was thrown down the sewer against my will, I couldn’t do anything. I was alone and scared. As I was plunged into darkness, I felt around trying to reach for anything out there but all I felt were wet, squishy walls pushed very close together. What was left of my arm, was throbbing pain. I needed help. I was covered in blood, dried tears on my cheeks. All I could think of was the thought of trusting that monster, the words. “Hiya Georgie!”
I walked for what felt like hours. I was in excruciating pain. My yellow raincoat was now mostly red. Inside of me, my heart was pounding. Budum Budum Bundum. My heart in my mouth, I turned the corner and there It was. It grabbed me and took me. The Well House. I was taken to this house, he called it The Well House. The house was abandoned, burnt and eerie. It smelt rotten and was damp. I was trapped, stuck, held captive. Until later, I had lost track of time and days. I woke up, it was a familiar place, it was MY house. Instantly, I ran up the stairs straight to my older brother Bill. It then dawned on me that he couldn’t see me. I was enraged. Why couldn’t he see me? After turning on my old bedroom light and waking up Bill, I ran back down the stairs into the basement. Bill came down and saw me. The possession took over me. “If you come with me, you’ll float too.” I said. “You’ll float too, you’ll float too!” I repeated. The anger built up inside me. My voice got deeper. “You’ll float too!” Then out of the floor, It rose and pounced up the stairs after Bill.
Is that you? The next day, back at The Well House, I never felt so alone. All the dead floated above me. Soon I would become one of them, only when I was out of this lonely, depressing possession. There was a new girl up there, one of Bill’s friends. She was waiting to be rescued. Her short, wavy, ginger hair covered her eyes. Her head was down. Her arms were dangling. She looked lifeless almost like me. For ages I sat there. I knew that Bill and his friends would come eventually. I was icy-cold, agitated and sorrowful. The girl stayed up there with the rest of them. Her time was nearly up. However, I could hear voices. “Beverly! Beverly! Are you here?” I raised my head from my hands knowing that they were not here for me. There was hope. “Bill?” I whispered. They had found me. I had found them. “Take me home Bill.” I said sobbing. “I don’t like it here, I don’t like who’s in here. Please Bill.” But it didn’t work, he knew it wasn’t the real Georgie. He could tell that it was the monster. “You’re not Georgie!” He shouted. He killed It inside of me.
The float Suddenly, I felt relieved and at ease. There was no pressure. I was free. I started to float up to the top with the rest of them. It wasn’t possessing me anymore and I was just me, Georgie. Inside of me, it killed me to not be able to go home but I was at peace now. Far down on the floor, Bill was staring helplessly at the corner. In a heap, was my yellow raincoat. An upsetting, weak pain filled through me. However, in his hands was the boat he made for me before the summer. My hands trembled as I teared up. Nothing could be done by me, I was a ghost.