Could anyone give me advice or tips to improve writing any tips in general not just about the writing below :) (1 Viewer)

[mi_2]

“ Coming back home”

There was nothing in the world that could have prepared Bella for the view that stood in front of her. A lush, verdant landscape with no sign of weeds and lilies that flourished all year long. Green spread across the lawn and the sky radiated with vibrant blues and azure. Bella let out a comforting sigh, something that she didn’t know could escape her lips. Her bare feet felt as if it were hovering above the freshly mowed grass. A wave of euphoria rushed through her body, her chest loosened, Bella lifted her arms like a young, carefree child who still believed the world was entirely hers. A wave of nostalgia overtook her senses, finally as if the world had heard her desperate pleas, she had returned.

The garden hadn’t changed ever since she left. It looked the same. Who had been maintaining this wonderful garden all this time? This certainly wasn’t the time for Bella to lie there alone in her thoughts. She would save it for another time. Straightening her posture, Bella headed to the weathered, oak door, she knocked on the glass window that had been stained to an austere colour Bella furrowed her brows and just then, the door swung open, almost by itself, but then a figure with auburn hair cropped to the shoulders and golden rimmed glasses perched on the nose appeared. The person turns and Bella meets eyes with a lady, a lady she didn’t recognise, a lady who opened the door to her own cottage. Was this just a dream?Bella thought to herself. The lady wiped her hands on her apron. The aroma of delicious pastries were flowing outside.

“Oh, you must be the one she left it for”, the lady cleared her throat and went back into the house, fetching something. Bella tilted her head. Why was she waiting for someone to fetch something in her own house? Taking a step into the familiar creaking floorboards, Bella navigated her way through the potted vines that dangled from the shelves of the plastered walls. She took a few steps forward to one of the potted plants, something was protruding out of it. Bella dug her hand in the soil and out she pulled a photograph. A young girl with hair just like Bella’s was smiling with a gap toothed in a lush meadow filled with lilies. It looked exactly like the pristine front lawn. Bella squinted, she looked away from the photograph to a teapot and back, checking her surroundings were real. The lady had come back into the room, holding an envelope. Placing the envelope in Bella’s hand and giving her a wistful look. Bella held the envelope up to her eyes, and written on the front was “To my dear daughter, Bella" in her mother’s handwriting.

 

[luminescence]

i'm not that skilled in creative writing, but maybe go over some grammar issues? it's much easier to fix grammar errors over narrative aspects, especially if you're getting marked on this.

there's a couple bits i can spot that aren't grammatically correct, for example: She took a few steps forward to one of the potted plants, something was protruding out of it. -> here, either use a dash, full stop, or semicolon. another example: The person turns and Bella meets eyes with a lady, a lady she didn’t recognise, a lady who opened the door to her own cottage. -> you suddenly changed tenses from past tense to present tense, so i reckon this will be an easy fix. grammar doesn't take long to correct, and it'll elevate your writing.

uhm, i'm not really a confident writer, but here are some other pieces i've written over the years... maybe they will help you!

The last witness fell from the sky, and onto the ash.

Its hands splayed out as it rose upright, gazing over a world that had devoured itself. An endless wasteland stretched in all directions, a vast plain of dust and ruin. Harsh winds scratched marks through the dunes, a heavy silence draping across the remnants of what once was. The sun’s rays had long since faded, their light choked and smothered by the thick layers of toxic chemicals that hung in the air. Nothing stirred. The world lay entombed in stillness, a moment captured in time.

One nacreous limb extended, followed by another. It crept along the barren plains with unnerving fluidity, eyes flickering as it scanned the wasteland in search of anything besides the ash. It halted. Lying at its feet was a corpse. There were no eyes, no nose, no ears on his face. Only a mouth, gaping wide in a scream, torment etched deeply into his withered flesh. Repulsive. It tilted its head, studying him in silence.

Then, with a faint mechanical click, it retrieved a small device that was hanging around its neck. Gears whirred as a keypad unfurled like a metal flower. It set the contraption against one of its limbs and started to type with another.

Subject #84b: Mutation deemed irreversible. Reaction to radium polonide compound over an estimated twenty years has resulted in the absence of facial organs, except for the mouth. Could potentially be useful for a more rudimentary function (e.g. labour-intensive activities), but is ultimately an inefficient modification. Beginning eradication.

It lowered its device slowly, the keypad closing up automatically into a metal box. The mouth of the corpse twitched from the wind. It reached out and pressed two fingers to the corpse's forehead. His body started to degrade, powdery pieces falling off like pieces of sand. Soon, even its fingers only met the cold air, and the creature that had once stared up at it scattered along the currents of the wind. Its head tilted back, empty gaze lifting to the sky as it watched the dust floating by.

With an insectile motion, it resumed its path. Each step left no imprint on the floor, each clinking sound of the device bumping against its skin smothered by the leaden silence. The land remained unchanged, an ocean of desolation stretching up to the curve of the horizon. The witness walked.

It did not tire, it did not pause.

above is from year 9, below is from year 8 so it's really bad

Into the ice-kissed air came wintry-feathers of pure white, the world becoming a snow-globe ornament as flakes of snow swirled around unseen currents. Not a single mark could be seen on the artic carpet, except for a set of small, child-sized footprints. A child with clearly inadequate clothing shivered and trudged through the weather, his frozen hands cupped around his mouth. His breath ghosted out in front of him, a fleeting wisp of warmth swallowed instantly by the frigid air. Cries of help and mother were forever unheard, as howling winds and flickering snow snuffed out all other noise.

Seconds bled into minutes. Minutes bled into seemingly hours. His teeth clattered like a rogue typewriter, each chatter a Morse code of distress against the frigid temperatures. The child's eyes widened as he tried to make out what exactly was in front of him; a blurry outline of some cave or shelter was ahead. He trudged faster, desperate to escape from the clutches of the bitter cold. A gradient from white to grey quickly approached as his footsteps started colliding onto the stone floor. The muted dripping of water grew louder as the boy ventured further into the cave, holding a damp box of matches.

Sitting down on a slightly deformed mound of rock, the boy sat cross-legged and shakily fiddled with the matchbox. His fingers had long ceased to feel anything, numb stumps on the end of his hands. Each attempt to move them was filled with awkward and sluggish movements, the familiar connection between brain and limb severed by the cold. His breath curled into visible puffs in front of him as he took out a singular match and tried to light it. Snap. Cursing, the boy stroke the match against the matchbox. It blazed aflame, providing a brief moment of warmth... Before it sizzled away. He started panicking, realizing that he might freeze to death. The cold was inside him now, a deep, marrow-chilling frost that seemed to leech the warmth from his very soul. It was then that he spotted it.

A squashed candle, tucked into a column of stone.

He immediately took out another match and started trying to light the candle. His second last match feebly lit up, and the boy scrambled to light fire. The black wick spouted to life, fire flickering and illuminating the dark space. Warmth immediately coursed through his body. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, but the child wiped them away with his thin jacket and placed his hands over the tiny flame. He had secured heat. Now the boy just needed to last the frigid night and find civilization the next day.

i swear i've written more lol but for some reason i can't find anything. as for more general tips, for creative writing, i always make sure i have an interesting idea or a really clear picture of what i want to describe before doing anything. particularly for short stories, your concept has to be specific and generally only across one scene, which can be really limiting. so you have to keep those restrictions in mind while planning out your concept. the first extract is from a longer passage, hence why there's not much progression. but the second one (sorry it's so bad) manages to have a conclusion by the end, while remaining relatively easy to follow along (albeit rushed).

and i also recommend reading a lot. whether that be novels or other exemplars, such as full mark creative writing responses for hsc, reading imo naturally improves your writing ability, and even your vocabulary. additionally, as is the case for many other subjects, it's also best if you practice a lot. it helps to polish your writing skills, and i find that i usually just borrow phrases that i've written before if i'm in a pinch. also, maybe think of a character or particular theme that you branch off of. it provides a good basis that can easily be molded into any question, prompt, etc. it also cuts down the amount of time you spend planning, which can be used to check your work instead.

anyways hope that helped a bit (●'◡'●)