Creative Writing Final Reflection Post

1.       Over the course of this semester I’ve had the opportunity to write like crazy, but out of those mass amounts of writing lay a few that I can call my favorites. Out of my top three favorite pieces, my third would be the “This is...” poem that we posted on our blogger pages. I liked that piece because I wrote about the weekends that my sister and I shared down at our lake house, and how sad it was that I probably won’t get to do that ever again, but still loving her same as I did when we were kids. Next, my runner up would have to be the scary stories that we wrote for Halloween and we were allowed to be moderately gross with it, which got my creative juices going, although I wish I would’ve had more time with it to clean it up and make it into something decent, but regardless I enjoyed it. Last but not least, my all time favorite writing assignment in Creative Writing class was the time that we got to look through this crazy looking picture book, with some kind of story starter in the caption that vaguely refers to the image, and the reason that I thought it was so cool was mostly just the pictures themselves. Whenever we were putting our names on sticky notes and placing them on our desired picture that we were going to write about, I think I kept the book for a good ten minutes just staring at all of the wild pictures that I couldn’t believe someone had drawn by hand.

2.       I remember a lot of writing that I have read throughout the class, but my favorite would have to be a piece that Tristain Deen did before he left; a little story that he titled “Noodles” about a bear named Billy that wants to cook instead of real Bear things, so he is shunned by his own family and he goes on to open up a noodle stand in a small village and becoming very successful, winning back the acceptance of his family while making a few friends on the way, and even a few trusty customers. I liked the story because it was a total rip off of Ratatouille, but the process of actually creating the story was hilarious to watch. This semester I have read some great books, but none compare to how good I thought Looking for Alaska by John Green was. The book is about a boy that goes to boarding school to basically throw some excitement into his life, and ends up befriending a girl named Alaska and a couple of other new friends named “The Colonel” and Takumi. The book is full of lighthearted fun and heavyhearted tragedy, with as many twists and turns and a roller coaster- definitely a must read.

3.       I can’t lie, whenever class started at the beginning of the year I was a little pessimistic about making a blogger and posting on it regularly, but throughout the course of doing so I found a sort of comfort with it because I realized that it didn’t feel like I was doing school work, it felt more like I was writing on my Facebook or Twitter. I have thought of if I would continue to post my own writing on it, but I’m really not sure if I want to put my actual writing public or not yet, but I am seriously considering it.

4.       My journal has been a giant blob of papers and old sticky notes that mark my grades for each section. Some of the things that I wrote in there may actually be good, but honestly I couldn’t tell you. Most of it is just pointless babble that refers to whatever subject we were given that day and most of my free writes were just rambling thoughts that would come to me at random, so the chances of anything ground breaking being hid away in there are slim. As for continuing to journal, I have already picked up a spiral notebook from the store and continue to write as often as possible and hope to keep writing short stories that I can be proud of.

5.       I wrote an entry about an Eighth grade romance in my journal a while ago in reply to a question we were instructed to respond to, and the reason I chose this article is because right as I came across the entry in my journal, the very girl from the story walked by the class, and I thought that it was way too ironic to pass up, so here goes: “#28- In eighth grade I dated this girl for about seven of eight months, but after subtracting the annual biweekly break ups that sad number probably amounted to more like five months, but she ended up breaking up with my for one of my very good friends that I had actually met through her which unfortunately broke my little middle school heart. After that, my summer consisted of nothing but Xbox live and skateboarding by myself, thinking that distance would help my situation, but I soon found out otherwise.”

6.        Notable Favorite:             King Leotus was once a brave and valiant king that ruled over vast amounts of land with thousands of people loyal to his command. The kings sword would cut through enemy in battle as if they were butter, and his armor was made of tempered steel and dragons bone so that no one sword would be so powerful as to penetrate its barrier. The king was revered all over his majestic kingdom, and feared by all others that crossed his path.

 

                One day, while the king was at his throne, brewing over his most recent victory, a door fell open silently as to not be heard by anyone around, and a small black head of what appeared to be a young boy popped through the passageway, analyzing the surroundings before passing through. The king remained unseen by the boy and watched as he crossed the corridor, trying best not to make the slightest noise. Before the boy could cross the room the king let out a large “Halt!” The boy was stunned in his tracks and appeared frozen in time for only a moment.

 

                As the king swept his way toward the child, he noticed a large bag at the boys shoulder made out of a wrapped up bed sheet, and the king was instantly curious.

 

                “Give me that bag.” Demanded the king, his voice stern and full of pride from many past war cries. The boy proceeded to unravel the sheet’s sophisticated knot the held it together, and said nothing in reply to the kings demand. Inside lay three golden candlesticks, and six silver pendants that looked identical to his. At second glance the king realized that they indeed were his war pendants.

 

                The king looked down at the boy as he reached the verge of tears, afraid of what may lay next for him. The boy was dirty, and very skinny. His clothes were withered and had been patched countless times. The king dropped to one knee as to get closer to the child, but said nothing, only looking from the boy to his stolen bag of items. The king asked “Why did you steal my things? You are only but a small child.”

 

                The boy replied through sobs “I was hungry,” looking down at his bare feet “and I haven’t any money to buy food.” The king looked into the boy’s eyes as he spoke, and could tell that he was being truthful.

 

                The king grabbed his most prized medallion, and put it around his neck and tossed the rest of the bag into the boy’s hands. “Stealing is not permissible in my kingdom,” said the king “and his punishable by law. Although, not assisting a soul in need is worse, but I do not want to catch you again, understand?”

 

                The boy nodded his drooped head, turned, and walked out of the king’s enormous manor. The boy learned from then forth that you must earn what is yours, and not through stealing.

 

 

7.       I plan to move on to college writing courses, including some creative writing I’m sure. When I’m writing it allows me to completely lie to myself and put myself in something that is so unrealistic, that in real life it would be considered ridiculous if only for just a few moments; that’s what I get out of writing creatively. Creative writing differs than the other different kinds of writing that I do in school in that I can make whatever I create into my own personal piece of whatever I want, where as in another class there are set standards for how you have to write a paper which is just droning and boring.

8.       I hope that one day our names will be the ones on the covers of book that are read by either few or many, either way it’s you that gets something out of it which in the end is really all that matters.