In case anyone missed it, my email adress is janebrennan1@gmail.com. You can also post your contributions here if that's easier - I can copy and paste them together.
Hope you're enjoying the sun!
Jane
Monday, March 26, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Welcome back
Hi all and welcome back to the class blog.
This week's homework for those who missed it:
Write a short story based on a conflict you have chosen. The events in the plot should be clearly connected and should lead believably from the characters. Story should build gradually to a climax followed by resolution.
Enjoy!
This week's homework for those who missed it:
Write a short story based on a conflict you have chosen. The events in the plot should be clearly connected and should lead believably from the characters. Story should build gradually to a climax followed by resolution.
Enjoy!
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Last session and homework
This week's homework:
1. Write a catalogue poem where each line begins with the same phrase. You can use as many or few as you like of the elements of poetry we looked at in class: rhyme, rhythm, imagery, different senses etc...
(By the way, did anyone hear Joseph O'Connor's slightly more freeform catalogue poem about his teenage crush in a sweet shop on Drivetime the other night?)
AND/OR
2. Write some limericks based on local place names or people's names. For more examples, look here: http://www.webexhibits.org/poetry/explore_famous_limerick_examples.html.
If you want more info on writing them, try here: http://www.creative-writing-now.com/how-to-write-a-limerick.html.
Remember that traditionally this was a bawdy and subversive form of poetry - please feel free to follow the tradition....
AND/OR
3. Polish up your favourite pieces of writing for the final evening on 8th December. As well as your own writing, you might like to bring in a favourite poem or extract from a published writer
1. Write a catalogue poem where each line begins with the same phrase. You can use as many or few as you like of the elements of poetry we looked at in class: rhyme, rhythm, imagery, different senses etc...
(By the way, did anyone hear Joseph O'Connor's slightly more freeform catalogue poem about his teenage crush in a sweet shop on Drivetime the other night?)
AND/OR
2. Write some limericks based on local place names or people's names. For more examples, look here: http://www.webexhibits.org/poetry/explore_famous_limerick_examples.html.
If you want more info on writing them, try here: http://www.creative-writing-now.com/how-to-write-a-limerick.html.
Remember that traditionally this was a bawdy and subversive form of poetry - please feel free to follow the tradition....
AND/OR
3. Polish up your favourite pieces of writing for the final evening on 8th December. As well as your own writing, you might like to bring in a favourite poem or extract from a published writer
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The Wicked Stepmother
The Wicked Stepmother
The invitation for the event of the year ‘The Princes Ball’ in the palace has arrived for I my husband and two guests so of course my boring very wealthy husband will have to come along with my two beautiful daughters. Surely, one of whom will end up with the Prince afterall why not they each have peaches and cream without a blemish complexion, soft blue eyes and hair as dark as coal. A little plump perhaps but their pleasant sweet manner makes up for it. The elder must do her best to charm the Prince at the ball and hopefully the nuptials will soon follow as time is not on her side. I summons the seamstress who arrived with lots of material to design our three gowns. I instructed her to make the finest that money can buy after all my husband was paying which made him useful for something.
My husband is 22 years senior to me so I expect him to pop off much earlier than I which will leave my two beautiful daughters and I with his wealth and this grand mansion. As for his own daughter Cinderella I’ll get rid of her some how. She is nothing, nothing good for but a slave. I keep her down in the kitchen cleaning, scrubbing and polishing the silver serving dishes. When either of my daughters orders her to do something she actually has the cheek to complain. At times I look at her and despite the rags she wears and the dirty skin I think if dressed up she could be quite pretty which means she will never be presentable and see the outdoors. She will never over shadow my two girls. Her father strongly objects at the way she is treated, how dare he. He married me after his first wife died and in doing so he fathers my daughters which are now his priority. I strongly point out that I am the Lady of the house and I have complete control over what happens within. I even overheard Cinders asking her father if she could go to the ball, imagine the cheek of her as if I would be seen with that small insignificant creature. Can you just see the Prince’s face when he would see this urchin in her rags, oh what a laugh.
Now back to more serious business, the gowns were exquisite mine was gold and turquoise and lavender for the girls. We were all going to be belles at the ball. On the night the Prince welcomed us and admired our appearance. He did promise to return to dance with my stunning daughters. Later into the evening a stunning young girl arrived dressed in pink, glass slippers and diamonds glittering from a far. The Prince immediately welcomed her and they danced. Though it killed me to say it they were a magical couple seeing eyes for no one but each other. I was fuming he was so ill mannered afterall he did say he would dance with my girls. At the dot of midnight the mysterious young girl just disappeared, now he would come over to us. Alas he did not he was too busy instructing his servants to follow her and bring her back. As the ball came to a close we went home and my daughters were distraught and very upset as was I. How could he have passed by two of the most stunning young ladies. I would find that young girl and banish her.
The following morning the servants were trying every house to see whose foot fitted the glass slipper that the much talked about girl had lost on her quick exit from the palace. I had warned my two darlings that they were to squeeze their foot into the shoe whatever pain it caused. Word was that the Prince wished to marry the owner of the slipper. The Servant arrived and my girls tried on the slipper but no matter how hard they tried there wasn’t a chance it would fit. The shock of my life was when it fitted that one Cinders down in the kitchen. How, sure she wasn’t even there but the Prince arrived to meet her and as soon as he saw her he knew those eyes and yes he asked her to marry him.
Despite my absolute shock, I feel it is important that my girls and I take a new look and devoted interest in my step daughter and her wonderful father. We’ll make it to the Palace yet.
Monday, November 21, 2011
The 24hr Shop Attendant
Working this graveyard shift from midnight to 8am is the pits but the money is good and I need it to maintain the lifestyle of a poor college student. Tonight, my priority is the latest John Grisham book ‘The Litigators’ I brought with me. There wasn’t going to be too much done tonight, Wednesdays are mainly quiet just Taxi drivers gathering for the tea, chat and petrol. The odd punter on their way to somewhere looking for the 7up or coke to water down their Jack Daniels and then those who still feel awkward asking for the obvious to ensure the birth rate does not sore. Why is it that those who’s staple diet for breakfast includes milk bread and cereal have to leave it until after midnight to realise they are short of supplies. The thought forever boggles me.
Tonight the shelves got a quick re-stocking, the paper tops were whipped off, and whatever else would be fine. I was getting down to my book. At last, perched on my stool comfy against the back of the sweet stand, munching my malteesers balancing my lucozade both being complements of the shop. I thought, I hope it’ll be quite I must get this hardback back to Graham before he knows I’ve swiped it. At the end of the first chapter I see a small red car pulling up and out comes this one with a face like the mother of sorrows. She was going to get a quick shift, I approached the hatch she wanted 4 litres of milk and 40 cigarettes. Who in their sane mind would be having a milk and cigarette party with a face like hers. She paid and left strange person I thought she looked like she had the troubles of the world on her shoulders, didn’t say please or thank you but I left her under no illusion that she was disturbing my mission. Yes, it’s now chapter 5 and I’m getting places. The Gardai have had their coffee and sausage rolls, the taxi drivers are fed and watered. It's been a handy enough night everyone came in bunches so I wasn’t disturbed continually. 5.15am I have to wash the floor, put out today’s papers as they arrive. 5.55am, I’m back if I get a good run at this I’ll get it finished. It’s a shame to have to rush it as it is a damn good read, he never lets me down Grisham.
Back in my spot, this time I have coffee and the few sausage rolls that the cops didn’t have. Head back in book and I’m in business. You won’t believe it but what arrives into the forecourt the small red car again. Out she gets, I thought to myself she couldn’t have run out of milk already. Now she was going to get a quick move. I came to the hatch and for some reason her eyes pierced through me she didn’t say anything just stared at me for what seemed like forever but it was only a fleeting moment. She wanted two dozen eggs, as I headed for the fridge I was tickled to decide what kind of orgy was she at where they had smoked and drank milk the night through and were now crowning it off with eggs. I tried to keep my face straight as I gave her the cartons but I knew she was even sadder as she had been earlier. This time I thought she had tears in her eyes but I was in a hurry took her money and back to more important matters.
As she sped off in her car I thought, the first time you were here you looked like you had the troubles of the world on your shoulders but this time you look as if everybody belonging to you had just died.
7.40am, day staff are coming on duty and I have just finished Graham’s book.
Tonight the shelves got a quick re-stocking, the paper tops were whipped off, and whatever else would be fine. I was getting down to my book. At last, perched on my stool comfy against the back of the sweet stand, munching my malteesers balancing my lucozade both being complements of the shop. I thought, I hope it’ll be quite I must get this hardback back to Graham before he knows I’ve swiped it. At the end of the first chapter I see a small red car pulling up and out comes this one with a face like the mother of sorrows. She was going to get a quick shift, I approached the hatch she wanted 4 litres of milk and 40 cigarettes. Who in their sane mind would be having a milk and cigarette party with a face like hers. She paid and left strange person I thought she looked like she had the troubles of the world on her shoulders, didn’t say please or thank you but I left her under no illusion that she was disturbing my mission. Yes, it’s now chapter 5 and I’m getting places. The Gardai have had their coffee and sausage rolls, the taxi drivers are fed and watered. It's been a handy enough night everyone came in bunches so I wasn’t disturbed continually. 5.15am I have to wash the floor, put out today’s papers as they arrive. 5.55am, I’m back if I get a good run at this I’ll get it finished. It’s a shame to have to rush it as it is a damn good read, he never lets me down Grisham.
Back in my spot, this time I have coffee and the few sausage rolls that the cops didn’t have. Head back in book and I’m in business. You won’t believe it but what arrives into the forecourt the small red car again. Out she gets, I thought to myself she couldn’t have run out of milk already. Now she was going to get a quick move. I came to the hatch and for some reason her eyes pierced through me she didn’t say anything just stared at me for what seemed like forever but it was only a fleeting moment. She wanted two dozen eggs, as I headed for the fridge I was tickled to decide what kind of orgy was she at where they had smoked and drank milk the night through and were now crowning it off with eggs. I tried to keep my face straight as I gave her the cartons but I knew she was even sadder as she had been earlier. This time I thought she had tears in her eyes but I was in a hurry took her money and back to more important matters.
As she sped off in her car I thought, the first time you were here you looked like you had the troubles of the world on your shoulders but this time you look as if everybody belonging to you had just died.
7.40am, day staff are coming on duty and I have just finished Graham’s book.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Dad
To my invalid and ageing father
I dedicate this poem
Without your activity
Our house is not a home
How I loved your laughter
When I heard you at the gate
The glint in your eyes
Looking for a debate
Now I as I watch you
As you sit and waste away
I wish I could change places
Even for just a day
Yet you seem so content
Never sigh or complain
Now I must realise
Things will never be the same
What an example
You set your sights so high
Daddy you are the best
Goodbye, Goodbye Goodbye
Frank Sheridan
Monday, November 14, 2011
10th November homework
This week's homework:
Listen to conversations around you, especially those that seem to be about more than just social chit chat. Listen to the way that people often express themselves indirectly.
Write up a piece of dialogue - either overheard or invented. Avoid the pitfalls we practised in class. For those not there last week, use the hints on this web page for writing good dialogue.
http://hollylisle.com/dialogue-workshop/
Listen to conversations around you, especially those that seem to be about more than just social chit chat. Listen to the way that people often express themselves indirectly.
Write up a piece of dialogue - either overheard or invented. Avoid the pitfalls we practised in class. For those not there last week, use the hints on this web page for writing good dialogue.
http://hollylisle.com/dialogue-workshop/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)