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Belonging Creative Writing Ideas (1 Viewer)

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So these are the ideas that I have so far for mine:

* Birth from a child's perspective, or even a contrast between both the mother and the child.
* An omnipresent spirit, such as a god, or time or a ghost.
* Something from your own experiences that seems so minor its insignificant, but make it important. Like, how you felt at your first party, or when your parents had people around and you knew no one. Or something major, like for me, coming out and how I first felt with my girlfriend etc
* An inanimate object's sense of belonging, how a house feels a sense/disconnection of belonging to its inhabitants, a tree about the landscape, a chair about a room.

Do you think these are too cliched?
 

beth_m_wills

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watch some trop fest films I found that helpful ...

find a consept and talk about that ... eg - the power of the nickname
eg - the importance of posetions in a matrialsitc society
 

beth_m_wills

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no I like these I think the 1st one could be a bit ... extream and far fetched like I don't think markers will like it ... or the seond one ... I think there looking for something really personalized... soid go with the 3rd if it were related ... I do realy like the last one ... although in trails my friend wrote about a white pencil not fitting in cause nobody uses whit on white paper ... and she didn't do to good my teacher said because it was to kiddy fairytale, the hungry caterpillar sorta thing ....so youd have to do that awsoemly like revel at the end as a twist that its a chair in the room and lead the reader on as though its a real person through the whole pice before this twist.
 

strawberrye

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it short story one pg can be enough if its good ... 2 is good
But it is really hard to have an accurate measure on the length of a story since it is dependent on the number of words and the person put on each page, I would say using the number of words would be a good general outline, generally, a good belonging short story should be at least around the 1000 words word limit.
 

samwaite116

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I'm writing one about a girl's sister that died and the fact that she initially mourned but now feels as though she belongs like that. I just don't know how to make that transition. It sounds super harsh. Can anyone help? :(
 

obliviousninja

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I'm writing one about a girl's sister that died and the fact that she initially mourned but now feels as though she belongs like that. I just don't know how to make that transition. It sounds super harsh. Can anyone help? :(
No offence, but usually stories surrounding this sort of theme are generally poorly crafted in the HSC and perform badly.
 

obliviousninja

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I can't remember what was in my creative writing sample in my signature but check it out, there may be some ideas for you to draw from.
 

strawberrye

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I'm writing one about a girl's sister that died and the fact that she initially mourned but now feels as though she belongs like that. I just don't know how to make that transition. It sounds super harsh. Can anyone help? :(
Can you clarify what you mean by 'she belongs like that'?
 

Brontox098

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Your teacher is partially correct on the basis of students writing pieces which resolve around school. My conjecture is that as long as you can pull it off in a sophisticated and fluent manner which is genuinely adapted to the stimuli, go for it. However, take heed on this considering the majority of students are most likely already composing stories concerning school.
 

goobypls

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Anyone else in the same boat as me? My trials are in 4 weeks and I've yet to even touch creative writing in terms of preparing a piece. I don't really know where to start and how one would make the best use of the next 4 weeks.
 

Absolutezero

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How about a tadpole that dreams of becoming a frog, but as he grows, he realises that there's more than four legs attached, and that Herbert, the feared warmongering spider king, may be more a part of his life than he first expected...
 

Mdyeow

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How about a tadpole that dreams of becoming a frog, but as he grows, he realises that there's more than four legs attached, and that Herbert, the feared warmongering spider king, may be more a part of his life than he first expected...
"What now?" I asked. "Are you going to throw me in a moat of water, then slowly bring it to the boil in order to test that theory about frogs and temperature sensitivity?"

"And let you happily climb away in the process? Not likely," cackled Herbert as a sheet of spiderlings rushed up my armour. "I'm going to tie you to the floor and put a spear through your head. Try psychoanalysing that, you essay-cranking academic."

"You are quite possibly the worst stepfather ever," I told him, setting a swathe of spiderlings ablaze with my flamethrower. "And that's going all the way back to Freud."
 

goobypls

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"What now?" I asked. "Are you going to throw me in a moat of water, then slowly bring it to the boil in order to test that theory about frogs and temperature sensitivity?"

"And let you happily climb away in the process? Not likely," cackled Herbert as a sheet of spiderlings rushed up my armour. "I'm going to tie you to the floor and put a spear through your head. Try psychoanalysing that, you essay-cranking academic."

"You are quite possibly the worst stepfather ever," I told him, setting a swathe of spiderlings ablaze with my flamethrower. "And that's going all the way back to Freud."
Band 6 material if I've ever seen it.
 

Mdyeow

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Band 6 material if I've ever seen it.
The spiderlings were too many, forcing my legs down with the sheer weight and octapodian tenacity of their little furry bodies. With my last free leg, I lashed out into the floor, scattering tiny motes of baby spider in a cloud around me. To the casual observer (though how casual one could ever be in a twenty-storey tower made out of frog-bones is anyone's guess) it would've looked like I'd lost the plot, gone into some paroxysm of filial affection, but the reality was anything but.

The sharp crack of snapping plastic made me smile, a big goofy smile like the 'poles did playing swim-me-silly in the nurture ponds. Herbert, Lord of Everything, Destroyer of the Amphibian Way and Ruler of the Nine Saline Terrors, adopted the queasy expression of one who'd ingested a particularly rancid curry against his free will.

From the broken cannister on my ankle came the first bubbles of a very, very bright light. Then, from inside, inflated the finest and most dangerous labour of amphibian quantum engineering, the red "6" boiling on its iron hide like a long-forgotten curse.

"Can't beat that scaling," I remarked as the dragon let loose a clump of flame.
 

charbeltobbagi

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Creative writing
“Just down the aisle and to the right, sir”, the flight attendant directs me to my allocated seat. As I picked up my carry-on luggage down the narrow aisle I couldn’t help but mumble over this debacle that is Economy class

“That cheap bastard”, I mutter under my breathe as I survey my relatively small portion of the plane that I’ll have to endure for the next 24 hours better get used to it, I thought, as I nestled myself back into this uncomfortable excuse of a chair Jason has already taken his seat next to me but refuses to make eye contact or even acknowledge me. I knew he was be resentful but his bad attitude is beginning to wear on me. I wish he would just talk to me even if he yelled I just want to know how he is feeling about us moving to Germany. I remember how much he yelled when I broke the news to the rest of the family. They weren’t happy, especially Jason. He was extremely resentful, he cursed, he swore, he expressed his anger by delivering a heavy blow to the coffee table, effectively shattering the delicate glass. Moving to a foreign country would be difficult for anyone but Jason taking it particularly hard. The expression on his face when we drove away from the house he called home for the last 15 years tore me open with guilt. He won’t know anyone in Daun, but I’m worried that he mightn’t even attempt to establish a connection to our new lifestyle. I can foresee him locking the door to his chances of belonging in this new community. He won’t even try, he’ll just haul himself into his room and like the hermit he is. Probably on his phone talking to his friends at school. He never leaves his phone. Not even for a second will he let it out of his sight. He says he doesn’t have a girlfriend, but everyone in the house hears his late night phone calls with this mysterious friend that needs help with ‘his’ assignment in the middle of the night.
On moving day, I spent countless hours hauling boxes onto the carrier that would deliver our possessions to Germany and Jason didn’t even move an inch. I could understand why he was doing it but it didn’t mean my back had to suffer as a result of his resentful attitude. My back still feels like it has been split in two and Just thinking about being this uncomfortable chair for the next 24 hours isn’t helping the situation.
*
I dropped my bags with disgust as we were shown to our new home. The faded nature of the blue paint and the half torn gutter that this place hasn’t been looked after very well
“Jason pick up your luggage and come in side”
As I picked up my bags and made my bags and made my way into this place of handyman’s delight, I placed my bags down in the hallway which had accumulated mountains of dust. I stood there in distraught and thought to myself why I am here. My parents have forced me to this strange country, with strange people occupying it and there strange customs and traditions.
I don’t want to involve myself with these people there’re just so weird. My room is disgusting I think I saw something alive in there when I put luggage down.
I been put into a house that has been torn apart like my social life Life was good until the bo, my life ss of destruction had called “him” and told him what to do which not only had impacted him but my whole family as well because the major changes to our life which had accumulated from a normal Australian life to an instant German lifestyle.
“Jason come and help us unload, stop standing there looking like you’re a mole in the light”

I had instantly woken up from my distraught version of myself and woke up back to reality, I could smell it in the air that I was away from home.
*
The kids from the local school had come down to welcome me to the country, only one of them spoke English so what every the others said the black haired pail skinned German kid would translate for them pssh
“Go away I don’t want to be your friend”
*
Why was he doing this he basically shot dead all chances of making friends? Jason climbed up the stairs and slammed his door. Probably to go on his phone, SLAM a massive thump was delivered to the floor
“No reception god damn it, this place is crap”
With no reception Jason just sat in his room and did nothing all day every day.
 

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