Our bookclub has been evolving over this school year, starting off being run by our staff librarians and shadowing book awards in a slightly formal way… to students asking for the bookclub not to end at Easter when it was meant to! Our year 7 and year 8+ clubs have merged too, so that any students can dip in and out either on a Tuesday OR Wednesday each week and get the same themed session on both days. To keep the club running, students have also started organising sessions – the first run a few weeks ago by Keyonte in year 9 with ‘create a villain’.
This week we had another student, Mary, who decided to run ‘Mary’s Storywriting 101’. In pairs, bookclubbers competed to write the best beginning, middle and end sections of a story, where points were based on how many compulsory keywords were included, and Mary’s opinion about the sense, humour & style. A great time was had by all and all the attempts were VERY creative! Here is the finished story (not bad for 40 minutes!):
It was a summer morning. The sky had a swirly red complexion. Even though it was a Christmas Day the house looked grotesque and lacked happiness. The food had a traumatising taste to it. Outside you could see the ducks and the children playing, as if it was a beautiful Easter day. The grandma inside the desolate house was knitting, as if possessed by the devil himself. Her eyes lacked emotions and when you stared into them it was as if you were staring into the deepest depths of the ocean, drowning, sinking, dying.
This was just the beginning of more.
She looked at her breakfast with disgust. And stared at her reflection in the back of a rusty spoon. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be stuck in a house with a woman whose skin is the colour of a traffic cone. I mean, whose skin is naturally that colour… unless they had a skin disease that couldn’t be cured, however in this case she’s not the one who’s ill. A large coal coloured dog ran into the kitchen. It started growling at her, defending its owner. She was petrified, her whole body was frozen in fear. Every fiber in her body was on fire. Until it came closer. It kept coming closer and it wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t bring herself to move. And it happened so quickly she couldn’t even register what was happening at the time.
The old lady could hear the commotion from a distance. Her throat was clogged with her own fear. All she did was cough ferociously, and her body shook immensely as curiosity controlled her body. She tried to build up enough momentum to pull her to weak feet. Her body weighed a tonne, causing her to fall to her knees. Slowly, she crawled to the arc between the corridor and the living room. Through all her efforts, eventually she made it. To her dismay, She had to make the hardest decision of her life. It was either the death of the coal-black bull dog or the intruder. With all her might, she shot directly in the dog’s eye with one of her knitting needle. Her heart slowly decayed as she drowned in her own unpleasant sorrow.