class 4 creative writing topics

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Creative Writing Topics For Class 4 Format, Examples, Exercises

Creative writing topics for grade 4 worksheets.

Creative writing is an important aspect of the English Grammar curriculum for class 4. It is an opportunity for students to express themselves through their writing and to develop their imagination and creativity. In this article, we will discuss some creative writing topics for class 4, the format, and provide examples to help guide students.

Format Of Creative Writing Topics For Grade 4:

The format of creative writing is flexible, allowing students to explore different styles and formats based on their interests and creativity. However, a basic structure can be followed to help students organize their writing:

1. Introduction: The introduction should grab the reader’s attention and introduce the topic or theme of the writing. It can be a sentence or two that sets the scene or introduces a character.

2. Body: The body of the writing should contain the main content and story of the writing. This can be broken down into paragraphs or sections that build upon the introduction and develop the plot or characters.

3. Conclusion: The conclusion should wrap up the writing and leave the reader with a sense of closure. It can be a summary of the story or a final thought or message for the reader.

Also Read: Diary Writing For Class 8

Topics For Creative Writing Topics For Grade 4:

1. A day in the life of a superhero 2. A magical adventure in a forest 3. A journey to the center of the Earth 4. A visit to a planet in outer space 5. A secret is hidden in a haunted house 6. A day at the beach 7. A surprise party for a friend 8. An imaginary creature and its adventures 9. A Day in the Life of a talking animal 10. A time travel adventure to the past or future

Examples Of Creative Writing Topics For Grade 4:

1. A Day in the Life of a Superhero:

Today was just another day for my superhero alter ego. I woke up early, put on my trusty suit, and headed out to save the world. The first task of the day was to stop a robbery in progress. I swooped in and caught the criminals before they could get away with the loot. Next, I had to stop a runaway train from crashing into the city. With my super strength, I was able to stop the train just in time. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, but I knew that I had made the world a little bit safer.

2. A Magical Adventure in a Forest:

One sunny day, my friends and I decided to explore the forest behind our neighborhood. As we wandered deeper into the woods, we stumbled upon a magical clearing filled with talking animals and shimmering trees. We soon discovered that the forest was under threat from an evil sorcerer who wanted to destroy the magical creatures and take over the forest. With the help of our new animal friends, we set out on a quest to stop the sorcerer and save the forest. It was a wild adventure, but we were able to defeat the sorcerer and restore peace to the forest.

3. A Journey to the Center of the Earth:

My journey to the center of the Earth began when I discovered a secret passage in my backyard. I followed the tunnel deep underground and eventually found myself in a mysterious underground world. As I explored this strange new world, I encountered all sorts of amazing creatures, from giant underground rivers to glowing crystals. But my journey was not without danger. I had to dodge falling rocks and avoid getting lost in the labyrinthine tunnels. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the center of the Earth and gazed in wonder at the molten core.

4. A Visit to a Planet in Outer Space:

One day, I was taking a walk when a spaceship landed right in front of me. The door opened, and a friendly alien invited me aboard. We blasted off into space and traveled to his home planet, which was filled with strange creatures and plants. I was amazed at how different everything was compared to Earth. The alien showed me around the planet and even introduced me to his family. We played games and shared food, and I felt like I had made new friends. But soon, it was time to head back to Earth. As we said our goodbyes and the spaceship lifted off, I realized that this would be a day I would never forget.

5. A Secret Hidden in a Haunted House:

I had always been curious about the old abandoned house on the corner of my street. One day, I decided to explore it. As I stepped inside, I felt a chill run down my spine. The house was spooky and dark, and I could hear strange noises coming from the shadows. But then, I noticed a glimmer of light coming from a crack in the wall. I pushed aside the old wallpaper and discovered a secret room. Inside the room, I found an old diary that belonged to the previous owner of the house. As I read through the diary, I realized that there was a treasure hidden somewhere in the house. I set out to find the treasure and eventually discovered it hidden in a secret compartment behind the fireplace. It was an amazing adventure that I would never forget.

6. A Day at the Beach:

The sun was shining bright, and the waves were crashing against the shore. It was the perfect day for a trip to the beach. I spent the day building sandcastles, collecting seashells, and splashing in the ocean. The salty sea breeze filled my nostrils, and the warm sand tickled my toes. As the sun began to set, I sat on the beach and watched the colors of the sky change from blue to orange to pink. It was a beautiful moment that I wished could last forever.

7. A Surprise Party for a Friend:

My best friend’s birthday was coming up, and I wanted to plan a surprise party. I gathered all of our friends and decorated the backyard with balloons and streamers. When my friend arrived, we yelled, “Surprise!” and she was overjoyed. We played games, ate cake, and danced to our favorite songs. It was a perfect party that brought us all closer together.

8. An Imaginary Creature and Its Adventures:

My imagination had always been wild, but today, it was especially active. I imagined a creature with wings, a horn, and rainbow-colored fur. This creature, which I named Rainbow, had all sorts of adventures. We flew through the clouds, explored ancient ruins, and even met a talking tree. It was an exciting and magical journey that allowed me to explore my creativity.

9. A Day in the Life of a Talking Animal:

What if animals could talk? I imagined a world where my pet dog, Charlie, could talk. I wrote about a day in his life, from waking up and begging for breakfast to chasing squirrels in the park. Charlie had a lot to say and had all sorts of adventures. It was a fun and entertaining way to explore what it would be like if animals could communicate with us.

10. A Time Travel Adventure to the Past or Future:

What if we could travel through time? I imagined a time machine that could take me anywhere I wanted to go. I wrote about traveling to the future and seeing what the world would be like in 100 years. I saw flying cars, robots doing chores, and people living on Mars. It was a fascinating adventure that made me think about what the future might hold. Alternatively, I could write about traveling back in time and witnessing historical events, such as the signing of the Declaration of Independence or the first moon landing.

Recommended Reading: Creative Writing Topics For Class 4

Conclusion On Creative Writing Topics For Grade 4:

Creative writing is an important skill for students in class 4 to develop. By encouraging them to use their imagination and write creatively, they can improve their writing skills and develop their creativity. The topics mentioned above are just a few examples of the many possibilities for creative writing. Students can explore a variety of genres, including fantasy, adventure, mystery, and more. By writing creatively, students can express themselves in a unique way and explore different perspectives and ideas.

When writing creatively, it is important to remember to use descriptive language to help readers visualize the scenes and characters. Using sensory details, such as sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings, can help bring the story to life. It is also important to develop characters with unique personalities and backgrounds, as well as create a well-structured plot that builds suspense and keeps the reader engaged.

Creative writing is an excellent way for students in class 4 to develop their writing skills and explore their creativity. By providing them with interesting and engaging topics, teachers can encourage students to use their imagination and express themselves in a unique and creative way. Whether it’s exploring new worlds, solving mysteries, or simply describing a day at the beach, creative writing can provide a fun and rewarding experience for students of all ages.

Creative Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 and Examples

Welcome to our comprehensive guide on Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 and examples. Whether you’re a student, teacher, or someone looking to improve their writing skills, this resource offers a plethora of topics and examples to guide you.

Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4

Paragraph writing for class 4 – my birthday paragraph for class 4.

I was born on a warm summer day in July. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. It was a beautiful day. My parents were so happy to see me, their first child. I was born at 8:00 am, and I weighed 7 pounds and 3 ounces. I have always been a healthy baby and child. I have never had any serious illnesses, and I have always been a good eater.My family has always been very close.

We are all supportive of each other and love spending time together. My birthday is always a special day for us. We usually have a big party with all of my friends and family. There is always plenty of food and cake, and we all have a great time. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful family.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a paragraph on the topic in about 80 words:

 Ans:                                                               Clothes I like to wear

  I like to wear very comfortable and bright coloured clothes. I like to wear loose-fitting clothes which do not expose any part of the body. 1 like to keep my body covered hence the Indian dresses like salwar kameez and top and jeans go will with mei like to wear reasonably priced clothes because I discard my clothes every year. I buy my clothes from brand stores, sometimes I get them stitched from my tailor. Therefore what ever I wear has quality and is reasonably priced. My mother shares my interest in my clothes.

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Paragraph writing for class 4 :  life of a school student.

  Life of a school student in India these days is very difficult. A student has to face a competitive world numerous challenges and many tough situations. Not only the challenges outside, a student has to come up to the expectations of parents also. The peer pressure also keeps students tense and under stress. In school the teachers always give importance to students who do well in studies. Therefore a student who does not fare well in examination is shamed by the teacher. Therefore the life of a student is very difficult these days.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : MY FAVOURITE GAME

Cricket is my favourite game. It is very popular. It is played mainly in fourteen countries of the world. A cricket team has eleven players. There are two types of matches. The first is a test match. One side bats. The other side bowls. Then the other side bats. The first side bowls. There are two innings. The other is the one-day match. A one-day match is different. One side bats for 50 overs. Then the other side bats for 50 over. The side which makes more runs wins the match. The one-day match gives much joy. I enjoy one-day matches. India has a strong cricket team. One-day matches are more famous. A test match goes for five days. But one-day match gives more joy. I like cricket. It is a very good game.

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Essay on My Favourite Game

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : A FOOTBALL MATCH

Last Sunday, a football match was played on our school ground. This was between our school team and S.D. High School team. There was a big crowd. Many students and teachers came to see the match. The players were in their uniforms. Shri Ram Lal was the referee. The referee whistled.

The match started. Both the teams were good. They played well. There was no goal in the first half. After the interval, the match started again. Our captain got the ball. He rushed with it. He gave a pass to Ashok. Ashok gave it to Rajiv. Rajiv kicked it hard. Our team scored a goal. The other team tried very much. But they could not score any goal. After some time, the match ended. Our team won the match.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 :  A WRESTLING MATCH

  Last Sunday, I saw a wrestling match. Randhawa and King Kong were the wrestlers. They are very popular wrestlers. So there was a great rush. There was a prize of ten thousand rupees for the winner. Randhawa and King Kong came into the arena. People cheered and shouted.

The referee whistled. The wrestlers shook hands. Both were equally strong. They came to grips. They tried every trick. King Kong was becoming tired. Suddenly Randhawa pulled King Kong. He fell down. Randhawa at once jumped on him. He turned his face towards him. King Kong’s back touched the ground. He lost the match. Randhawa was declared the winner. He was given the prize.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : A JOURNEY BY TRAIN

Last month, I went to Delhi. My uncle lives there. He invited me. I went there by train. I packed my luggage. I took a rickshaw and reached the station. There was a long queue at the booking office. I bought a ticket. I went to the platform. There was a great rush. Soon the train reached there. I got on the train. I got a seat. It was near the window.

Then the train started. I looked out of the window. I saw green fields. Farmers were working. The cattle were grazing. After an hour, the train reached Rohtak. At Bahadurgarh I took tea. At last the train reached Delhi. My uncle had come to the station to receive me. We took an auto-rickshaw and reached home.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : A CRICKET MATCH

It was Saturday. A cricket match was played on our school ground. It was between our school team and S.D. High School team. It was a friendly match. Mr Amar Singh and Mr Satish Kumar were the umpires. It was a match of 50 overs each. The match started at 10 A.M. Our team won the toss. Our captain decided to bat first. Munish and Umesh were the openers. The batting of our team was very good.

Our team made 270 runs in 50 overs. Now the team of S.D. High school started batting. Our bowlers were very good. The players of S.D. High School could not play well. The whole team was out for 230 runs. We won the match by 40 runs. We were very happy.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : What I want to do for My Family                                                                           

I have a large family. I have two younger brothers. My parents and grandparents live together. My grandparents are old. They need constant care and attention. My parents remain busy with them. As a responsible member of the family. I want to give coaching to my brothers in Maths and sports.

I have an interest in Basketball. I want to see them as sportsmen. 1 always scores good marks in Maths, hence I want them to become good mathematicians. Then, I always want to help my brother in household chores.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : “A Hot Summer Day”

  Last year June 20 was a very hot day. The sun was in all its fury. It was burning hot. The earth went dry. There was dust everywhere. The heat was unbearable. There was no stir in the air. Men and animals were panting. All were perspiring. Little children were crying restlessly.

Everybody looked for shade. Not a soul was moving outside. Bazaars and streets looked deserted. All work came to a standstill. We prayed to God for a shower of rain. In the evening the heat lessened a little. We felt some relief. Thank God that it became pleasant at night.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a short Paragraph on “A Day in summer without Electricity”

Ans:                                             A Day in summer without Electricity

  It was the 15th of July. The day was terribly hot. It was very close also. Not a leaf was moving. And to add to all this, there was no electricity. It was not possible to stay indoors. And it was not possible to move out also. The sun was burning hot outside. People looked up to the sky for any trace of cloud but there was none. People rang up the electricity department to know when they would have electricity, but there was no reply. The earth was like a smouldering hell. People fanned themselves with whatever they could get hold of. The lot of little children was really pitiable. At last, by about 6 in the evening, the electricity came and with it came a sigh of relief.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a short Paragraph on “A Pleasant Day in summer”

Ans:                                                      A Pleasant Day in summer

  It was the month of July last year. One day it was very hot. Men and animals were panting. All were perspiring. We longed for a shower of rain. In the afternoon, some clouds appeared in the east. Soon the whole sky was overcast with dark clouds. It started raining heavily. Streets and bazaars were flooded with water. Little children came out and played in the rain. They splashed water over one another. The rain stopped after two hours. It became very cool and pleasant. Streets and bazaars were washed clean. The city gave a fresh look.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a short Paragraph on “Life in a Small Village”

Ans:                                                            Life in a Small Village

The three words that can amply describe the life in a village are — Simple, Pure and Fresh. The villagers are very simple-hearted people. They know no cunning. They are pure in their thoughts and actions. They are very hospitable. They live simply and happily.

They have no anxiety. Life in a village is very calm and peaceful. It is free from the noise and din of cities. The air is fresh and health-giving. Says Leo Tolstoy in one of his stories, “A villager’s life is not a fat one, but it is a long one.” In short, we can say that life in a village is worth-living.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a Short Paragraph on “Life in a Big City”

Ans:                                                                  Life in a Big City

Life in a big city is very fast and busy. It is devoid of true peace. The atmosphere is noisy and suffocating. The smoke coming out of factory-chimneys makes the atmosphere dirty people get no opportunity to breathe fresh and pure air. Food in big cities is adulterated. Cost of living is very high. Rents and fares are very high. City people do not have any fellow-feeling. They are very selfish and self-centred. They have no peace of mind. They do not lead a contented life. Life in a big city is nothing but an endless race for money.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a Short Paragraph on “Benefits of Morning Walk”

Ans:                                                                   Benefits of Morning Walk

Morning walk is the best form of exercise. It costs nothing. It is very useful for our health. It refreshes our mind. It strengthens our body. It prolongs our life. It saves us from many diseases. It is equally good for the young and the old. Morning walk keeps us fresh for the whole day. It develops in us the habit of rising early. It awakens in our love for nature. The dewdrops, the fresh flowers, the chirping birds and the rustling leave charm our mind. Thus morning walk is useful not only for our body but for our mind and soul also.

Paragraph Writing for Class 4 : Write a Short Paragraph on “A Scene at a Railway Station”

Ans:                                               A Scene at a Railway Station

  Last evening, I went to the railway station to see off my uncle. The train arrived. There was a great rush on the train. Passengers ran from one compartment to another. People who were inside tried to get out. Those who were outside tried to get in. There was a great deal of jostling. Some elbowed their way in. Everybody was in a hurry. The scene was very colourful. The vendors were selling their wares. A newsboy hurried to sell his newspapers. After about fifteen minutes, the engine gave a whistle. The guard waved a green flag and the train steamed off.

Exploring Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 Topics: My Country

In this paragraph writing topic, we explore a country rich in villages and farmers.

It is a country of villages and farmers. The people are simple and hardworking. They love their country and are proud of its rich culture and heritage. The country has a beautiful landscape with mountains, rivers, forests and beaches. It is a land of great diversity with different languages, religions and cultures. The people of the country are united by their love for the land.The country is home to some of the world’s most iconic monuments and buildings. The Taj Mahal, Qutub Minar, Red Fort, Jama Masjid, India Gate are some of the many historical places that attract tourists from all over the world.

The country is also known for its rich wildlife with tigers, lions, elephants and other animals inhabiting the forests.The food in the country is as diverse as its culture. There are different cuisines to try depending on the region you are in. The country is also famous for its spices which are used in many dishes.The climate in the country varies from tropical to temperate depending on the region.

The winters can be cold in the north while it is hot and humid in the south.India is a land of contrasts with both modernity and tradition coexisting side by side. It is a vibrant and exciting place to be in with something new to discover around every corner. I am proud to be an Indian and hope to visit my country again soon.

MasteringParagraph Writing Topics for Class 4: My Best Friend

In this paragraph writing topic, we discuss how a good friend is truly God’s gift to man.

A good friend is God’s gift to man. Ashish Kumar is my best friend. He is my class-fellow and neighbour. We go to school together and come back together. We have the same subjects and help each other in our homework. He is good at studies as well as games. He always stands first in the class. He is the captain of our school hockey team also. He is a good speaker and has won a number of prizes in speeches.

He belongs to a rich family, but he is not proud of his father’s wealth. He has an impressive personality and good habits. Last year, we went to a hill station together. I enjoyed the visit greatly in his company. Ashish is my true friend. I have tried him on a number of occasions. I have always found him faithful and trustworthy. He is very popular among the boys of the school. 1 is proud to have such a friend.

Paragraph on My Best Friend

Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 Topics: My Family

This paragraph writing topic delves into the complex notion that the family can be both the root of all evil and the cornerstone of one’s life.

It is said that the family is the root of all evil. This may be true in some cases, but in my opinion, the family is the most important thing in life.The family is the first social institution that a child encounters. It is through the family that a child learns about love, trust, and respect. The family is also the first source of protection and security for a child.The family teaches children the values and beliefs of their culture and society.

It is through the family that children learn how to interact with others and how to resolve conflicts.The family is the foundation of society. It is through the family that we learn to be good citizens and to care for our community.

Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 Topics: My Favorite Teacher

In this paragraph writing topic, we explore the various reasons why Mrs. Smith stands out as a favorite teacher.

There are many reasons why my favorite teacher is Mrs. Smith. She has been my English teacher since I was in high school and she has always been very supportive and helpful. Mrs. Smith is also a great motivator and she always pushed me to do my best. I really appreciate all that she has done for me over the years.One of the things that I like most about Mrs. Smith is her passion for teaching.

She truly cares about her students and she wants them to succeed. She is always willing to help out, whether it be with homework or just offering advice. Mrs. Smith is also a great listener and she always takes the time to really hear what her students have to say. I feel lucky to have had her as a teacher.Another reason why Mrs. Smith is my favorite teacher is because she is just so much fun. She knows how to make learning enjoyable and she always goes above and beyond to make sure her students are having a good time.

She is also very creative in her approach to teaching and she always comes up with new and innovative ways to keep her students engaged. I have never been bored in one of her classes.Overall, Mrs. Smith is just an amazing person and an excellent teacher. I am so grateful to have had her as a teacher over the years. She has truly made a difference in my life and I know that I will always remember her fondly.

Essay on a Class Without a Teacher

Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 Topics: My Mother

In this paragraph writing topic, we affirm that mothers are indeed the best creatures on earth.

There is no denying the fact that mothers are the best creatures on earth. They are the ones who give birth to us and take care of us till we are strong enough to fend for ourselves. They sacrifice their own comforts for our sake and always put us first. No matter how much we grow up, we will always be their little babies in their eyes.My mother is the most important person in my life. I have been through a lot in my short life but she has always been there for me, no matter what. She is the one person who I can always count on, no matter what happens.

She has always been a great role model for me and I have always looked up to her. She is a strong and independent woman who has never let anything or anyone get in the way of her goals. She is a hard worker and has always provided for me and my sister, even when times were tough.I am so grateful to have her in my life and I know that I would be lost without her. I hope to make her proud someday and show her just how much I appreciate everything she has done for me.

Self-Reflection in Paragraph Writing: Essay on Myself

This paragraph writing topic is a reflective journey into understanding oneself.

Assuming you would like a detailed content section for the subheading “Essay on Myself”: An essay on myself is a reflective essay in which the writer examines his or her own life experiences, feelings, and thoughts. The essay on myself can be written in different ways: as a personal narrative, as a research paper, or as an expository essay. In order to write a good essay on myself, the writer must first understand himself or herself.

The writer must be honest and introspective, and he or she must be willing to share personal thoughts and feelings. Once the writer has a good understanding of himself or herself, he or she can begin to write the essay on myself. The most important thing to remember when writing an essay on myself is to be honest. The writer should not try to hide anything or present him or herself in a false light.

The reader should be able to see the real person behind the words. The writer should also be introspective, looking deep within him- or herself to find the answers to the questions posed by the essay. Finally, the writer must be willing to share his or her innermost thoughts and feelings with the reader. Only by being honest, introspective, and open can the writer hope to write a good essay on myself.

Patriotic Paragraph Writing: Har Ghar Tiranga

This paragraph writing topic celebrates the Indian tricolour, a symbol of national pride since 1947.

The Indian tricolour of saffron, white and green has been flying high since 1947. It is the flag of our nation and is a symbol of our pride. The tiranga is not just a piece of cloth; it is a sacred symbol that has been entrusted to us by our forefathers. It is our duty to protect and preserve the tiranga with all our might.Flying the tiranga with pride and respect is an act of patriotism.

It is a way of showing our love and loyalty towards our motherland. The tiranga instills a sense of national unity and pride in every Indian heart. It reminds us of our rich cultural heritage and the sacrifices made by our freedom fighters to win us our independence.The tiranga is a sacred emblem that should be treated with utmost reverence. We should never let it touch the ground or be dishonoured in any way.

The tiranga is a reminder of the blood shed by our martyrs and the struggle of our freedom fighters. It is a symbol of hope, courage and determination. Let us all pledge to safeguard the honour of the tiranga and keep it flying high always!

Paragraph Writing on 15 August: Independence Day

In this paragraph writing topic, we discuss 15 August, a significant day in India’s history.

15 August is an important day in the history of India. On this day, India got its independence from British rule. 15 August is celebrated as Independence Day every year. It is a national holiday in India.Independence Day is celebrated with great enthusiasm all over India. People hoist the national flag on their homes and offices. They also sing patriotic songs and listen to speeches given by leaders.

In schools and colleges, special programs are organized to mark the occasion.The Prime Minister of India gives a speech from the ramparts of the Red Fort in Delhi on Independence Day. This speech is broadcasted live on television and radio. The whole country listens to it with great interest.

On this day, we should remember all those who sacrificed their lives for our independence. We should also pledge to work hard for the progress and prosperity of our nation.

Paragraph Writing Topics: Flag Code of India

This paragraph writing topic delves into the Flag Code of India and its significance.

The National Flag of India is a horizontal rectangular tricolour of India saffron, white and green; with the Ashoka Chakra, a 24-spoke wheel, in navy blue at its centre. It was adopted in its present form during a meeting of the Constituent Assembly held on 22 July 1947, when it became the official flag of the Dominion of India. The flag was subsequently retained as that of the Republic of India. In India, the term “tricolour” (Hindi: तिरंगा, Tiraṅgā) refers to the Indian national flag.

The flag is based on the Swaraj flag, a flag of the Indian National Congress designed by Pingali Venkayya.The Indian flag is a horizontal tri-colour with equal bands of deep Saffron (Kesaria) at the top, White in the middle and dark Green at the bottom. In the centre of the White band is a wheel in Navy Blue known as the Ashoka Chakra. There are twenty-four spokes in this chakra which represent twenty-four hours in a day.

The saffron colour signifies courage and sacrifice; White represents truth and purity; Green stands for faith and fertility.The ratio of width to length of an Indian national flag should be 3:2. The size of Ashoka Chakra should be specified in terms of radius either as 30% or

Influential Women in Paragraph Writing: Draupadi Murmu

In this paragraph writing topic, we explore the life and achievements of Indian politician Draupadi Murmu.

Draupadi Murmu is an Indian politician who is currently serving as the Governor of Jharkhand. She is a member of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and was previously a member of the Janata Dal (United).Murmu was born on 5 December 1961 in the village of Tiring in the Mayurbhanj district of Odisha. She completed her schooling from Tiring High School and went on to study at Ravenshaw College in Cuttack.

She later obtained a master’s degree in Political Science from Utkal University.Murmu began her political career as a member of the Janata Dal (United), and contested the Assembly elections in 2000 and 2005 from the Baripada constituency.

In 2009, she joined the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and contested the Lok Sabha elections from the Balasore constituency. She was elected to the Lok Sabha in 2009 and again in 2014.In November 2014, Murmu was appointed as the Governor of Jharkhand, becoming the first woman to hold this office.Murmu has been active in working for the upliftment of tribals and women in Jharkhand. She has also worked towards improving education and health care facilities in the state.

Seasonal Paragraph Writing: Rainy Season

This paragraph writing topic describes the rainy season as a welcome relief from the summer heat.

The rains are a blessed relief from the sweltering heat of summer. They bring with them the freshness of new beginnings and fill the air with the fragrance of wet earth and blossoming flowers. The arrival of rain brings joy and hope after a long dry spell.For farmers, the rains mean life and growth.

They pray for rain so that their crops will flourish. For children, it is a time to play in puddles and splash around in the mud. They rejoice in the downpour, dancing and singing in the rain.The rains are also a time of romance. Couples walk hand in hand, stealing kisses in the rain.

The rainfall creates a mood of intimacy and passion. Rainy days are also perfect for cozy indoor activities like reading a book or watching a movie. There is something about the sound of raindrops that makes everything seem more peaceful and calming.So whatever your plans are for this rainy season, make sure to take some time to enjoy the simple pleasure of getting soaked in the rain.

Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4 on a Rainy Day

In this paragraph writing topic, we explore the nuances of a day filled with continuous rain.

A rainy day is a day when it rains continuously all day long during the rainy season. It is a day when the air is cool and fresh and the sky is cloudy. A rainy day is a day of leisure. It is a day when one can sit at home and enjoy the weather.A rainy day is also a day when one can go out and enjoy the rain. One can walk in the rain, play in the rain, or just sit and watch the rain.

The raindrops falling on the ground, the sound of the rain, and the smell of wet earth all make for a very pleasant experience.A rainy day is also a good time to catch up on some reading or writing. This is because there are no distractions and one can concentrate fully on these activities.So, overall, a rainy day can be quite enjoyable if one knows how to make use of it.

Paragraph on Rainy Day

The Art of Paragraph Writing Topics for Class 4: Holi Festival

This paragraph writing topic focuses on Holi, a religious festival celebrated with fervor by Hindus.

Holi is a religious festival celebrated by Hindus all over the world. It is also known as the “festival of colors” or the “festival of love”. The festival marks the beginning of the spring season and is celebrated for two days. On the first day, people light bonfires and on the second day, they play with colors.Holi is a very important festival in Hinduism. It is believed that on this day, Lord Vishnu killed the demon king Hiranyakashipu. Hiranyakashipu had ordered his son Prahlad to worship him instead of Lord Vishnu.

But Prahlad refused to do so and was put through many tests by his father. Finally, Lord Vishnu appeared before him in the form of Narasimha (half-man, half-lion) and killed Hiranyakashipu.This event is commemorated every year during Holi. Holi also has a special significance in the story of Radha and Krishna. It is believed that on this day, Krishna applied color on Radha’s face.

This act symbolized the beginning of their eternal love.Holi is celebrated with great enthusiasm all over India. People apply color on each other’s faces and share sweets. They also sing and dance to celebrate the occasion.

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100 Fun Writing Prompts for 4th Grade: Journal Prompts

• Journal Writing Prompts
• Descriptive Writing Prompts 
• Fiction Writing Prompts 
• Opinion Writing Prompts
• Funny Writing Prompts 
• Informative Essay Writing Prompts
• Animal Writing Prompts 
• Poetry Writing Prompts 
• Narrative Essay Writing
• Emotion Writing Prompts 

Writing help stimulates and organize thoughts in children. They make them better off expressing whatever they have in their mind and feel a little less burdensome.

But, how do we inspire young children to write?

Writing Prompts are a perfect genesis for developing writing habits in kids. They brew creativity, vocabulary, a sense of expression and so much more in them.

Without much ado, let’s get straight to the list of 4th grade writing prompts.

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Here are more learning resources for your 4th grader to aid to their learning!

100 Fun Writing Prompts for 4th Grade

10 Journal Writing Prompts

It is important to develop self-expression in kids, which can be made possible through regular journaling. For kids as young as 4th graders, journalling can boost the flow of ideas and spark reflective communication in them. Refer to the list of 4th grade journal prompts and get your students on a writing fling. 

1. What is a secret dream of yours? What can you do now to reach it later in your life?

2. What kind of a friend do you think you are? List three things where you can improve and become a better friend.

3. What is one thing that your teacher does that you don’t like? How would you like her to do that instead?

4. What is your favorite thing about being in the class?

5. Recount the best picnic you had with friends. Where did you go? What part did you enjoy the most?

6. Make a list of 30 things that you love about your life.

7. Who is your inspiration and why?

8. If you are allowed to make a single wish, what would it be?

9. Write about your favorite hobbies

10. Write about the best gift you have received. What made you love it so much?

10 Descriptive Writing Prompts 

Somewhat similar to 4th-grade journal writing prompts, Descriptive prompts can be a great tap into creativity. When you want to keep your students busy with writing in a way that builds a love of details in them, here are the writing topics for 4th graders that you shouldn’t miss.

1. Write about 3 places that would like to travel to. Why and with whom?

2. Imagine your new classmate starts school today. What would you do to welcome them?

3. Describe a mistake you made and what you learned from it.

4. Your uncle overseas wants to know about your city. Write a letter to him describing your city- the famous monuments, eateries, parks, and more.

5. If you get to become a teacher for a day, which subjects will you teach and why?

6. Who inspires you in the family, and why?

7. Share your experience about a time when something unexpected happened.

8. Describe your favorite classmate. What is one more thing(s) that you would want to learn from him/her?

9. What is your favorite outfit? Why and where would you wear it?

10. You have found a lucky object. Share the little details about it.

10 Fiction Writing Prompts 

What is life without fantasy and fiction? Precisely, nothing. Fiction is a powerful tool to pen down the flow of ideas without having to follow a particular format. It not only fuels creativity but improves writing skills and concentration. So, if you are planning to assay your student’s imaginative power, use these writing prompts for 4th grade.

1. Last night, you traveled into space. What did you see?

2. Put yourselves in the shoes of a mad scientist who just discovered a fruit. How does it look it? Narrate its journey from the innovative lab to the market.

3. In your favorite fairy tale, a prince decides to be a villain instead of a hero. Write the chain of events that unfold.

4. One day, you wake up to see that your elder brother has been turned into a horse by an evil witch. Build a story around the scenario.

5. On a lonely stormy night…Continue the story.

6. You have acquired a superpower to turn invisible whenever you like. Narrate the events of how and where you would use this superpower.

7. You were transported into the last story you read. Where are you? How would the story change with your presence?

8. Imagine you got a chance to climb up the ladder to the clouds. Write what you see there.

9. You woke up to find out that you have grown wings. How would your life change?

10. “Do not be angry” I told myself. But, as I looked down… Complete a story.

10 Opinion Writing Prompts

Supporting critical thinking and vision, Opinion writing prompts can be instrumental in shaping the thought process in young minds. More often than not, even the senior students are not aware of how many strong opinions they hold. Therefore, it becomes crucial to let kids practice how to present their arguments in their development years. Here’s a list of opinion writing prompts for 4th grade to kickstart their writing journey.

1. Should recess time be longer in schools? Why, or why not?

2. Should 4th graders receive pocket money from their parents? Why, or why not?

3. Share the best pizza eatery in your town. Why do you think it’s the best?

4. With the annual function coming up, your school wants to invite a famous personality to deliver an inspirational speech or presentation. Who do you think will be the best fit?

5. Would you rather be a class topper, a fine artist, or an excellent sportsperson?

6. Do you think smoking should be banned? Why, or why not?

7. Share your opinion on students bringing a cell phone to school.

8. Should everyone exercise every day? Share your opinion.

9. If you were to plan the school lunch menu, what will you include?

10. Is homework a good practice for learning? What do you think?

10 Funny Writing Prompts 

Do you see your kids getting bored of writing on general topics? Don’t worry, refer to our list of fun writing prompts for 4th grade! Funny Writing Prompts are a great icebreaker to stir up the imagination and interest in students. Moreover, teachers can let students read aloud their fun stories in class. Get ready for a giggle-packed writing period with writing prompts for 4th grade!

1. Your homework was eaten by a dog. Write a story to convince your teacher.

2. Write a story using 5 words: funny, bird, sleep, guitar and pajamas.

3. Imagine you woke up and saw a giant sleeping next to you. Narrate the story.

4. Create a story where chocolate cake is the main character.

5. The rabbit jumped on the moon and the dish ran away with the spoon. Build a humorous story.

6. Imagine your best friend cannot stop sneezing and farting throughout the day. What do you think the day would look like to him?

7. Imagine someone cast a spell on your mother. She could talk nothing but only meow. How would your life change? What can you do to break the spell?

8. Everyone around you turns into a robot. How would you spend your day?

9. What would happen if you ate a cookie and became a dwarf? Narrate the scenario.

10. I never thought my cat would laugh… Continue the story.

10 Informative Essay Writing Prompts

The essence of Informative Writing prompts lies in how well students can convey particulars about an object, a personality, or an event to the readers. As much as they improve their writing skills, the prompts compel the young minds to think critically, and fetch cues from their memory and learning.

Check out the writing ideas for 4th grade kids on the list to make your work a little easier!

1. Write the importance of water in our lives. How can we save water?

2. What are traditions? Which one do you like the most and hate the most in your family?

3. Imagine you are a city tour guide. What are the best places to visit in your city?

4. What is the most interesting book you have ever read? Write a book review.

5. Write a ‘how to play’ guide for your favorite game.

6. Recollect the times you were in quarantine. Write an interesting story about how you overcame tough times.

7. How should we take care of our younger siblings?

8. You are at a farm with your family. Write all that you see around you.

9. Imagine you just experienced an earthquake. What was the first thing you did? Narrate the details.

10. You have become a store manager for a day. Write about all the responsibilities and tasks that you undertook throughout the day.

10 Animal Writing Prompts 

We all agree that animals fit naturally into our stories. That’s because humans share an unbreakable bond with animals. So, why not have a writing session that features animals? This will surely infuse some excitement and divergent thinking in the classroom . Here’s some animal creative writing prompt for 4th graders!

1. Write some interesting facts that you know about animals.

2. How would it be if you woke up doing ‘meow meow’ one morning? Write a story.

3. Imagine dinosaurs taking over the world. What do they make humans do?

4. What if you are in a forest and a lion starts talking to you? What would the conversation be like?

5. If you were allowed to pet 5 animals, which one will you choose and why?

6. ‘A camel was walking in the desert but suddenly…’ Construct an interesting story.

7. Write a story about the friendship of a pigeon and squirrel living on the same tree.

8. Imagine you are swimming in the Indian Ocean and a shark arrives. What will you do?

9. Is the zoo a good place for animals? Why, or why not?

10. If you could have a superpower to turn into any animal, which animal would you become to save a girl who’s been kidnapped? Why?

10 Poetry Writing Prompts 

In a world where classic literature has been lost under social media slang, poetry is still a breath of fresh air. Moreover, poems for kids can be really helpful in improving creative writing skills. They not only learn the real rules of literature and grammar but find joy in expressing themselves. Jump into the poetic world with these 4th grade writing prompts.

1. Write poetry about your first day in 4th grade.

2. Write a haiku about your favorite ice cream.

3. ‘Silvery sweet sound’… Continue the poem.

4. ‘There was once a wise man who told me’. Write a limerick using this line.

5. ‘I met a funny little man…’ Write an interesting poem.

6. Write poetry about Mother Earth.

7. ‘When the winter snow begins to fade…’ Continue the poem.

8. ‘The story is strange, as you will see, The weirdest thing ever happened to me.’’ Write a poem to describe the weirdest scenario you have been in.

9. ‘I woke up one morning with a mermaid tale’. Write a poem.

10. ‘Snow slips down swiftly’. Write a haiku.

10 Narrative Essay Writing

One of the widely practiced 4th grade writing prompts, Narrative writing is all about expressions and stories. It encompasses the beginning, middle, and end of a narrative. Whether it’s a personal incident or a fact or a fiction, it’s sure to spark a joy of creativity in young ones. Here are some ideas that you can use as 4th grade narrative writing prompts.

1. Suppose you become a school principal for a day. Write about what changes you will make in the school.

2. You have to describe your family members to someone who has never met them before. How will you do it?

3. If you had a chance to keep an extra chair at the dining table tonight, whom would you invite and why?

4. What is your favorite memory from 3rd grade? Share details about it.

5. What is one thing that makes you feel sad? How do you overcome this sadness?

6. Write about your favorite holiday meal.

7. When did you score poorly on a test? What did your parents say?

8. Write about your experience at a summer camp. Would you go this year again?

9. If given a chance to visit another planet, where would you go and why?

10. This year my goals are… Write about what all you want to achieve by the end of the year.

10 Emotion Writing Prompts 

Just as adults need an outlet to express their bubbling emotions, so do kids! Journalling is a powerful tool, facilitating reflection and critical thought. While journalling might be a difficult step for most kids, writing prompts can support their creative outlet. It can aid them in expanding their own ideas, articulating their feelings, and boosting their confidence. Look at some interesting fourth grade journal prompts that kids will love!

1. Write a letter to your 15-year-old self.

2. What are 10 things you and your best friend are good at?

3. Describe your favorite time of the year. What activities do you do during this time? Who do you spend it with?

4. Imagine you found a genie who promises to grant you 3 wishes. What wishes would you make?

5. Write about a time you felt a strong emotion- be it happiness, sadness, anger, etc. What made you feel that way? What did you do to control it?

6. Suppose it is your mother’s birthday next week. How can you make it memorable for her? What planning will you do?

7. Do you know about your strengths and weaknesses? Write 5 each.

8. You have to thank 10 people today. Who will be on your list? How will you be thankful to them?

9. When someone compliments you, how do you respond to it?

10. Write about all the times you have felt happy in the last week.

12 Ways To Help 4th Graders With Writing

When it comes to giving a creative push to 4th graders, there can be nothing better than writing prompts. Since young students face more hurdles in following a structural approach to writing, prompts can help kids relieve that pressure. Consequently, they can enjoy flexibility in writing, allowing more room for creativity and imagination.

While kids may benefit immensely from writing prompts, it cannot be made possible without a mentor’s encouragement and support. Here are some of the creative ideas around 4th grade writing prompts that you can explore with kids:

• Encourage recollecting past experiences to stir up the writing process
• Give them friendly instructions
• Talk through building imaginary scenarios
• Respond actively to their communication and prompts
• Curating problem prompts and discussing the probable solutions
• Sharing classic tales or retelling them to fit the current scenario
• Jotting down facts to build creative prompts
• Emphasizing on development of opinionated argument
• Inspiring to write in a variety of styles
• Providing comprehensive support to build the writer’s confidence
• Highlighting authentic grammar rules and spelling
• Use of digital tools to create prompts

The above list is not exhaustive, and there’s always enough room for creativity.

To ease things for you, here are three steps you can consider while using writing prompts:

Step #1: Introduce the statement or topic to the students to steer the creative writing ship

Step #2: Encourage students to make a personal connection with the prompt given, and brainstorm the key points with them

Step #3: Convey the purpose of the writing assignment- an essay, a paragraph, or any other form of writing. Instruct the students using sufficient information to better equip them with writing cues.

Summing Up…

Young kids need support to build writing skills as much as adults do. Writing prompts can be a perfect anchor to get set kids on a writing spree. We hope the above 4th grade writing prompts can serve the enjoyment and purpose of your class! Good Luck!

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

How can i improve my child’s writing skills using elementary prompts.

It is imperative to build focus in kids as young as 4th graders. Unfocused writing can become troublesome for them in the future. To improve focus, emphasize using basic prompts that encompass their favorite things- toy, place, picnic memory, cup, etc. Make a list of all that they like and ask them to write small details about them. Let them practice these as much as they want. This way, sticking to a single topic, will surely help them stay clear and focused until they start with longer essays.

How do I keep a tab on my child’s progress in writing?

Writing prompts are in themselves a great tool to help teachers and parents measure the progress of the kid. The best way to see whether the kid has improved or not is to let them practice with the elementary prompts daily. You must skim through them, and politely pinpoint the grammatical or punctuation errors. 

However, do not be too harsh on them while communicating their mistakes to them. Remember, all good things take time! Moreover, do not compare your child’s progress to any other child. All children have different capacities and speeds to grasp things. Target steady growth!

How can I make writing prompts a fun activity for the class?

There are endless possibilities to creatively support the use of 4th grade journal prompts. You can divide the students into small groups and pin a challenge of writing prompts between them. Furthermore, teachers can make use of attractive resources like flashcards, worksheets, etc. to add a spark of enthusiasm and fun to the class. 

Since little appreciation and kind words go a long way, you can keep exciting rewards for the kids who perform exceptionally. There’s so much that you can do to unleash the creative side of your 4th graders.

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Writing Prompts for 4th Grade: Fostering Creativity

Most teachers would agree that unleashing 4th graders' imagination through writing is crucial, but can be challenging.

This article will provide an abundance of creative writing prompts for 4th grade to foster imaginative thinking and writing skills.

You'll discover prompts across narrative, descriptive, opinion and essay writing, including historical adventures, natural disasters, character dialogues, imaginary worlds and more. There are also sample writings and effective strategies to implement these prompts.

Unleashing Imagination with Writing Prompts for 4th Grade

Creative writing is an important part of a 4th grader's development. It helps build critical thinking skills , enhance vocabulary, and gives students an outlet to express their thoughts and ideas. As an educator, implementing engaging and thoughtful writing prompts is key to nurturing your students' creativity.

Understanding the Role of Creative Writing in Grade 4

Creative writing allows students to tap into their imagination. As 4th graders begin thinking more abstractly, creative writing provides an opportunity for them to stretch their minds. Benefits include:

• Strengthens ability to develop stories and express ideas
• Allows students to explore interests more deeply
• Builds vocabulary and language skills
• Develops planning, organizing, and editing abilities
• Boosts creativity and imagination

By giving students open-ended creative writing prompts, they can engage with topics that excite them. This leads to more involvement in the writing process.

Effective Strategies for Implementing Writing Prompts

Here are some tips for successfully integrating creative writing prompts into your 4th grade curriculum:

• Set clear expectations - Discuss the goals of creative writing and what you hope students will get out of the experience. Establish guidelines for length, format, etc.
• Inspire ideas through class discussions - Have students brainstorm prompt ideas together. Capture their thoughts on the board.
• Give students options - Offer a choice of several prompts or let them develop their own based on interests.
• Allow time to organize ideas - Before writing, have students map out key points. Outlining helps them structure their thoughts.
• Encourage creativity - Stress that creative writing has no right or wrong answers. The goal is to tap into imagination.

Setting the Stage for Creative Writing

The writing prompts covered aim to spark creativity across three styles:

Narrative - Students develop storytelling skills. Prompts inspire the use of description, plot building, and character development.

Descriptive - Prompts allow students to practice describing people, places, objects or events using vivid sensory details.

Opinion-based - Students state their perspective and support it with reasons, facts and examples. Prompts inspire logical reasoning.

Preview of Creative Writing Topics for Grade 4 with Answers

Providing sample responses for some prompts guides students. It allows them to compare their writing style, perspective and ideas. Sample answers also spark further thought and creativity.

What should a 4th grader be able to write?

By the end of 4th grade, students should have a solid grasp of basic writing skills that will enable them to express their ideas creatively. Here are some of the key writing milestones 4th graders should reach:

Writing Skills

• Understand parts of speech like nouns, verbs, adjectives
• Compose a structured paragraph with a clear topic sentence, supporting details, and concluding sentence
• Use proper punctuation including commas, apostrophes, and quotation marks
• Write with proper spelling, grammar, and sentence structure
• Organize ideas logically in writing

Types of Writing

Some examples of writing 4th graders should master include:

• Structured Essays : With an introduction, body paragraphs, conclusion
• Creative Writing : Stories, poems, plays that spark imagination
• Opinion Pieces : Take a stance and back up viewpoint with reasons
• Informative Writing : Research reports on topics like science, history

Sample Writing Prompts

Here are some example prompts to encourage 4th graders to write creatively:

• Imagine you could have any superpower. What would it be and why?
• Write a story about someone who discovers something special in their backyard.
• Do you think kids should have chores? Why or why not?
• Describe your perfect day. What would you do from morning to night?

With the right prompts and guidance, 4th grade writers can unlock their creativity and grow their skills substantially by the end of the year. The key is providing engaging topics tailored to their interests and skill level.

What is the story writing prompt for Grade 4?

Writing prompts can be a great way to get 4th grade students excited about creative writing. Here are some effective story writing prompts to try in the classroom:

Describe something that you saw in the news recently and how it made you feel.

This prompt helps students connect current events to their own lives and emotions. Some questions to scaffold this prompt:

• What recent news story caught your attention? Why?
• How did it make you feel? Why did you have that reaction?
• If you could talk directly to the people involved, what would you want to say?

Tell about an event that happened recently at your school or in your town.

This taps into students' own immediate experiences and lets them tell a factual story. You can have them recount a field trip, assembly, game, or community event.

Some scaffolding questions:

• Set the scene - where and when did it happen? What were you doing beforehand?
• What happened first? Next? Last?
• How did people react? How did it end?
• What did you learn or how were you changed?

What do you think is one of the world's biggest problems right now, and how would you solve it?

This prompt lets students grapple with global issues and envision creative solutions. They can pick issues like poverty, pollution, endangered animals, war, etc.

• What global problem concerns you and why? Give some background details.
• Who is affected and how? Why does it persist as an issue?
• Brainstorm possible solutions. Choose one to explain in more detail - how would it realistically work?
• What difference could it make if implemented?

Following a scaffolded discussion, students can then write a story integrating their thoughts and solutions.

What are some amazing creative writing prompts?

Here are some fun and engaging creative writing prompts to get your 4th grade students excited about writing:

Describe Your Perfect Day

• Imagine you woke up and could do anything - where would you go, who would you meet, what would you do? Let your students' imaginations run wild as they describe their perfect day.

If I Had a Magic Wand...

• If your students had a magic wand and could make anything happen, what would they do? Turn a bully into a frog? Get an endless supply of candy? This silly prompt sparks creative ideas.

Write a Letter to Your Future Self

• Have students write a letter to their future selves, predicting what their life will be like in 5, 10 or 20 years. They can describe their imagined future career, family, hobbies, travel adventures, and goals.

You're a Superhero - What Are Your Powers?

• Unleash your students' inner superheroes! Have them develop their superhero name, costume design, special powers, sidekick, and arch nemesis. Then describe a short adventure.

You Find a Mysterious Box

• Students imagine they find a mysterious box on their way home from school. What's inside? This prompt encourages creativity as they describe the box, their reaction to discovering it, and what happens when they open it. The possibilities are endless!

Focusing creative writing prompts on imaginative ideas, as opposed to formulaic essay structures, allows 4th graders to fully engage their minds and express themselves. Try out a few of these prompts to foster creativity in your class!

What are the four writing prompts?

Writing prompts are a great way to get 4th grade students excited about writing while building critical skills. Here are four types of prompts that can foster creativity:

Descriptive Writing Prompt

Describe the best party you have ever attended. This allows students to use vivid sensory details and figurative language.

Expository/Informative Writing Prompt

Describe the process of making your favorite meal. This structures writing logically and sequentially.

Narrative Writing Prompt

If you could be in charge of the world for one day what would you do? This sparks imagination through storytelling.

Opinion/Persuasive Writing Prompt

What is the best pet to have? Why? This builds reasoning and evidence to support claims.

Mix up these four types of prompts to keep writing fresh and engaging. Encourage students to use dialogue, emotional appeals, facts and reasons, natural disaster metaphors, references to inspirational figures like Thomas Edison, and other creative techniques in their essays. Provide samples of excellent 4th grade writing for models.

Set aside regular time for writing prompts. Establish a routine where students develop their essays, you give constructive feedback, and they revise their work. This consistency, along with creative topics, builds essential writing skills.

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Narrative writing prompts: crafting stories in 4th grade.

Narrative writing prompts encourage 4th grade students to let their imaginations run wild while developing essential storytelling skills. As students craft tales filled with suspense, adventure, and compelling characters, they enhance their ability to construct cohesive plot lines and lifelike narratives.

Adventures with Historical Figures: A Tale with Thomas Edison

Challenging students to blend facts and fiction, this prompt asks them to write a story featuring famed American inventor Thomas Edison as a character. After researching key events and inventions in Edison's life, students can build an imaginative adventure tale involving the inventor. This allows them to develop their creativity while reinforcing knowledge of history.

Surviving a Natural Disaster: Imaginative Resilience

This prompt requires students to write a first-person narrative about living through a natural disaster like a hurricane, flood or earthquake. As they vividly describe facing and overcoming adversity, students build suspense while exploring themes of courage and resilience.

Dialogues and Drama: Mastering Character Interaction

By asking students to write scenes featuring dialogues between two or more characters, this prompt focuses on enhancing their ability to write expressive, impactful conversations. As students consider factors like tone, motivation and personality while crafting dialogues, they gain stronger command of language.

4th Grade Writing Samples: Learning from Examples

Exposing students to high-quality narrative samples written by their own peers allows them to analyze effective storytelling techniques. Noticing elements like descriptive language, pacing, narrator perspective and more in exemplary samples helps students incorporate such best practices into their own narratives.

Descriptive Writing Prompts: Painting Pictures with Words

Descriptive prompts can help 4th graders practice using sensory details and descriptive language in their writing. Here are some ideas to get students imagining and describing vivid scenes.

Bringing Characters to Life: Descriptive Details

• Imagine a new student joining your class. Describe what they look like and their personality using lots of descriptive adjectives.
• Describe your best friend so clearly that a stranger could recognize them. Use details about their appearance, style, personality, quirks, and anything else that makes them unique.

Exploring Imaginary Worlds: Descriptive Writing for Grade 4 PDF

Here is a downloadable PDF with descriptive prompts focused on building fantastical settings:

4th Grade Descriptive Writing Prompts PDF

The prompts in this PDF encourage students to describe imaginary places using strong sensory language that engages the reader's imagination.

Capturing Moments in Time: Describing Events

Ask students to describe an event or scene in vivid sensory detail, as if capturing a photograph with words. Prompts could include:

• Describe your perfect birthday party. Use sights, sounds, smells and other descriptive details to bring the event to life.
• Imagine you could travel anywhere in the world. Describe your destination using all five senses - what do you see, hear, feel, taste, and smell?

Descriptive Writing Techniques and Examples

Here are some descriptive writing techniques to share with students:

• Similes and metaphors - compare things using "like" or "as"
• Adjectives - describe nouns with colorful descriptive words
• Alliteration - repeat the same first letter or sound
• Onomatopoeia - use words that imitate sounds

Provide examples of descriptive passages from literature to illustrate effective techniques. Analyze the word choices and descriptive language with students.

Using vivid sensory details in their writing helps students paint clearer pictures for the reader. These descriptive prompts will get their imaginations active and enhance their skills.

Opinion Writing Prompts: Expressing Views and Arguments

Opinion prompts encourage 4th graders to develop persuasive writing skills by articulating their viewpoints and supporting them with logical reasoning. As students construct opinion-based essays, they learn how to effectively convince readers of their perspective.

Crafting an Opinion Essay: From Start to Finish

When introducing an opinion essay, first explain the basic structure to students:

• Start with an opening paragraph stating their viewpoint clearly. Help them come up with a strong thesis statement.
• In the body paragraphs, ask them to provide facts, examples, expert opinions, statistics, etc. to convince readers. Teach students how to find reliable sources and cite references.
• Conclude by restating their viewpoint assertively and urging readers to agree with their perspective.

Then provide thought-provoking prompts for them to write full-fledged opinion essays, putting this structure into practice.

Debating Current Issues: Encouraging Critical Thinking

Creating prompts around current events and issues teaches students to form educated opinions on real-world topics. Provide prompts that spark friendly debates around themes like:

• Should mobile phones be allowed in elementary schools?
• Should students wear uniforms at school?
• Should physical education be mandatory every day at school?

Urge them to consider multiple perspectives before stating their own views. This builds critical thinking abilities.

Persuading Peers: The Art of Argumentation

Craft prompts that let 4th graders try convincing their classmates about everyday issues like:

• Why we should have longer recess breaks
• Why dogs make better pets than cats
• Why pizza is the best food ever

These fun, friendly debates boost their persuasive writing skills.

Using Evidence to Support Opinions

When students simply state opinions without logical facts, prompt them to defend their views by asking:

• What evidence supports your opinion?
• Can you back your view with expert opinions or scientific research?

This reiterates the importance of using evidence over unfounded personal beliefs.

Developing Essay Writing Skills in 4th Graders

Helping students develop strong essay writing skills at an early age sets them up for academic success. As educators, we can provide 4th graders with the fundamentals to craft clear, coherent essays.

Essay Writing Basics: Structure and Flow

When introducing essay structure, explain the key components:

• Introduction - Contains a hook to grab interest, background context, and a clear thesis statement.
• Body - Includes 2-3 paragraphs elaborating on the thesis with supporting details, facts, examples, etc. Use transition words to connect ideas.
• Conclusion - Summarizes main points and reinforces the thesis statement.

Model writing a basic 5-paragraph essay to demonstrate proper structure and flow from introduction to conclusion.

Enhancing Coherence: Transition Words and Phrases

Teach students transitional phrases to effectively move between ideas and paragraphs, improving coherence. Useful examples include:

• To add information: additionally, besides, furthermore
• To compare: similarly, by contrast, however
• To sequence: first, second, third

Have students highlight transitions in example essays, discussing how they are used.

Refining Writing: Editing and Revising Techniques

Strategies to improve essay clarity and readability:

• Read aloud to catch awkward phrasing
• Check formatting of paragraphs, fonts, etc.
• Simplify language by replacing complex vocabulary with simpler words
• Add descriptive details through imagery, analogies, examples etc. to illustrate points

Practicing with Prompts: Building Confidence and Skill

Regular practice responding to diverse essay prompts allows students to expand skills. Tailor prompts to curriculum topics students are covering to make connections. Establish a weekly writing prompt routine. Assess growth by comparing earlier and later writing samples.

With scaffolding and consistent practice, 4th graders can gain essay writing proficiency to communicate ideas clearly.

Conclusion: Reflecting on the Journey of Creative Writing

Creative writing prompts can play an invaluable role in developing essential skills for 4th grade students. By encouraging imagination, self-expression, and critical thinking, they set the stage for future writing success.

In this article, we explored various types of creative prompts that spark ideas and get young writers actively crafting stories, poems, dialogues, and more. When students repeatedly practice creative writing, they build confidence and comfort with sharing their thoughts and ideas. Over time, these exercises strengthen their vocabulary, sentence fluency, and other language arts abilities.

As educators, we want to nurture our students' creativity while also developing their composition skills. An effective balance of structure and freedom in writing tasks allows room for imagination as well as skill-building. While creative prompts open doors to new perspectives, targeted drafting and revision activities hone technique.

By blending imaginative prompts with formal instruction, we can send 4th graders on a rich journey toward masterful writing. Our aim is for students to discover their unique voices while also learning to organize, clarify, and polish their work. When creative expression drives the writing process, young authors remain engaged and find joy in developing their skills. By keeping this spark lit, we equip students to meet 5th grade writing standards while pursuing their passions.

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50 Creative Writing Prompts for 4th Graders

By Suzanne Brown | Last Updated May 4, 2022

Writing prompts can help children develop creative writing skills and can be a fun way to learn a new skill. This article will offer 50 different prompts that you can use to teach your students how to write in the format of a short story. Some of these writing prompts are fiction, while others are non-fiction. This means they can be used by teachers in almost any classroom setting, whether with students that need development in writing or if you have students who simply love to write down their own stories and this is a fun way to get them involved. 

1. What are some things your teacher asks you to do in order to be a good student?

2. What is something you can’t wait to learn about in school this year?

3. Why does it matter if we get grounded for doing something wrong?

4. describe a time when someone treated you unfairly, but then the situation was resolved and everything got better.

5. What are three things that make your day more fun or interesting? 

6. How do you think animals feel when they see humans fighting with each other or harming their environment? 

7 . What is the best thing to do when you feel sad or upset?

8. What are some things that make you happy?

9. List five things that you can do to show gratitude

10. Describe a place where you feel safe and secure

11. Share an experience of being bullied online, in person, or in school and how it made you feel 

12 . What is something that makes you feel angry? 

13 . What is something important you want to accomplish this year? 

14 . Make a promise to yourself that helps motivate yourself to achieve your goal(s)

15 . What are some things that keep your family close during hard times? 

16 . What are some ways to show respect to people in your family or your community?

17 . How might a teacher be able to help students who have trouble making friends?

18 . What is something you can do next time you see someone being disrespectful? 

19 . Make a list of three problems at home and three problems at school. What are some solutions for the home problems and school problems? 

20. Write about a time when you made a mistake, but then learned something important from the experience

21. Share an experience you’ve had that made you feel proud of your family or community and how it made you feel

22 . Describe a time when you had to ask for help. What happened? 

23 . What is something that makes you proud of your community? 

24 . Is there a family in your life who has helped you out and inspired you? If so, how did they inspire you?

25 . Describe a time when the people in your family or community showed your respect. How did they show respect? 

26. Share an experience of a time when someone treated you unfairly, but then the situation was resolved and everything got better

27 . What are some ways to make school and home more fun, interesting, safe, respectful, or peaceful? 

28. Write about an experience when someone was kind to you and how it made you feel

29 . Make a list of at least 10 ways that people in your family, community, or school can be respectful and safe

30 . Describe a time when you were bullied online, in person, or at school. How did this make you feel? 

31. If you could travel back to another time, would you? Why or why not? Tell about an experience that you would have when traveling back in time

32. you are the new kid at school. how would you introduce yourself what is one thing that people might not have known about you before they got to know you, 33. it’s your first day of school. give an account of what you will be doing on your first day of school, and how that day might feel for someone who is new like yourself. could it feel different for them than it does for you tell why or why not.

34. Talk about what makes a story interesting and why an author would add more details to certain parts of the story. Tell me about one of your favorite stories and why you like it so much

35. describe a character from your favorite book and then write about an experience you had where you were able to apply the characteristics of this character to yourself or somebody else that you know what did you learn from this experience, 36. describe a day when you had an adventure at school and then write about what you learned from that experience.

37. Write about the most interesting experience you had in school, then write about a time when you had a boring experience…and tell me why

38. have you ever been to a play or watched one on tv then write about your favorite character or scene…or maybe when something unexpected happened during the show. tell me what it was and what did you think of it.

39. List 10 things that are funny about being in the fourth grade, then list 10 things that are hard (this one is harder than it looks)

40. Do you like to read when you are not writing? If so, what types of books do you like to read before bed?

41. Which school subjects do you like best and why is this? Write a paragraph telling me why…and don’t forget to include some examples in there…(you can make up some details if you need too)

42. Describe a picture that makes you happy

43. Who is your favorite person? 

44. Where have you traveled? 

45. What are you stuck on in school right now? 

 46. Describe one thing that scares you and why it scares you

47. What is your favorite part of the school calendar year? Why? 

48. Give an example of a moment in your life when someone helped you accomplish your goals more easily than before and why it made an impact on your life

49. What is the most important invention of our time? 

50. Would you rather live in a small town or big city? Why? 

From Ideas to Words: 66 Writing Prompts for Fourth Graders

By: Author Paul Jenkins

Posted on September 5, 2023

Categories Writing

You’re here because you’ve got a fourth grader who’s itching to write, right? Great!

In this article, we’ll explore exciting writing prompts that’ll stretch their imagination.

You’ll discover tips on making writing fun and ways you can support your young author.

Let’s jump in and spark that creative flame together!

Key Takeaways

• Writing prompts for fourth graders enhance communication skills, boost creativity, promote penmanship, and improve language skills through peer editing.
• Narrative prompts encourage sharing personal experiences, ‘what if’ scenarios spark creativity, informational prompts relate to current studies at school, and opinion-based prompts develop argumentative skills.
• Encouraging creative writing in fourth graders can be done by inspiring creativity through storytelling techniques, introducing peer reviewing for constructive feedback, using storybooks as a source of inspiration, and encouraging experimentation with dialogue, suspense, and flashbacks.
• Fun and engaging writing prompts for fourth graders include interactive storytelling with prompt illustrations, imagining talking with animals and sketching a scene with a bird, a magical door appearing in their room and sketching the fantastical world behind it, and discovering a new planet and creating an illustration with unique inhabitants. These prompts promote creative thinking, writing, and artistic skills.

66 Writing Prompts for Fourth Graders

Here are 66 writing prompt ideas for 4th grade students:

• Write about your favorite childhood toy and why it was special to you.
• Describe your ideal treehouse. What would it look like and have inside it?
• Who is your hero? Write about what makes them heroic.
• If you could have any superpower, what would you choose and why?
• What is your favorite season? Describe what you enjoy about it.
• What is the most amazing animal you can think of? Write about what makes it so amazing.
• Imagine you woke up one morning with a mermaid tail. Describe what your day would be like.
• What do you want to be when you grow up and why?
• What would happen if there were no rules for one day?
• What is the best gift you’ve ever given or received? Why was it meaningful?
• Write a story about a magic bicycle that takes you on an adventure.
• If you could visit any time period in history, which would you choose and why?
• Describe your perfect birthday party.
• What are three words that describe you? Explain why you chose each word.
• What is your favorite thing to do outside? Describe why you enjoy it.
• Write about an act of kindness you did for someone. How did it make you and the other person feel?
• If you could have dinner with anyone from history, who would you choose and what would you talk about?
• Describe your favorite family tradition or holiday celebration.
• What is one goal you have for this school year?
• Imagine you could fly. Describe what you would see from up in the air.
• What is your favorite thing about yourself and why?
• Describe a time you felt brave or courageous.
• What makes a good friend? Write about the qualities of a good friend.
• Describe your favorite meal or favorite food. What do you love about it?
• If you were principal for a day, what changes would you make in your school?
• Write a story ending this way: “And that’s when I learned to always…”.
• Imagine you switched places with your parent or guardian for a day. Describe what your day would be like.
• Describe your perfect vacation. Where would you go and what would you do?
• Write about an experience that taught you a lesson. What did you learn?
• Imagine you find a magic lamp with a genie inside who grants you three wishes. What would you wish for and why?
• What is your favorite thing to do on a rainy day? Describe why you like it.
• Who is your favorite book or movie character? Write about them.
• What is one of your talents or skills? How did you develop this ability?
• What does being a good citizen mean to you?
• Describe one of the happiest or best moments in your life so far.
• Write about a time you felt scared. What happened and how did you handle it?
• Explain three steps for how to make or do something you know well.
• What is your favorite holiday? Describe how your family celebrates this holiday.
• Write a story titled “The Surprise in the Attic”.
• What is your favorite thing to do with your family? Describe why you enjoy it.
• What is your favorite animal and why?
• Imagine you could be anyone else for one day. Who would you be and why?
• Describe what the world would look like if everything was a certain color.
• What is the best advice someone has ever given you? Who gave you the advice and why was it meaningful?
• How can kids help protect the environment?
• Describe one of your role models or someone you really admire. Explain why you look up to this person.
• Write about a time you felt proud of yourself. What did you accomplish?
• What does the word “hero” mean to you?
• If you had $100 to donate to charity, which charity would you choose and why?
• Write a story titled “The Mystery of the Missing Lunch”.
• What makes you laugh? Describe something that you find funny or humorous.
• What is your favorite book and why? Describe the characters, setting, and plot.
• What do you want to be remembered for?
• If you could make one rule that everyone in the world had to follow, what rule would you create? Explain your choice.
• Describe your ideal birthday cake or dessert. Be as detailed as possible.
• What is the hardest thing you’ve ever done? Why was it challenging?
• Imagine you discovered a new planet. Describe what it looks like and what you would name it.
• What does the word “courage” mean to you?
• Describe how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to someone who has never seen one before.
• What makes someone a good friend? Describe qualities you think are important in friendship.
• Write about a time you felt disappointed or discouraged. What happened and how did you manage those feelings?
• Describe your favorite season (fall, winter, spring, summer). What makes that time of year special?
• If you were in charge of planning a class party, what would you do to make sure everyone has fun?
• Explain how to play your favorite sport or game. Describe the objects needed, players, and rules.
• If you could take any animal from the zoo home as a pet, which would you choose and why?
• What is one goal you’d like to achieve next school year? Explain why this goal is important to you.

Understanding the Importance of Writing for Fourth Graders

It’s crucial for fourth graders to understand the importance of writing as it’ll enhance their communication skills and boost their creativity. Not only is writing a fundamental way to express ideas, but it’s also a tool for promoting penmanship. When you write, your letters get neater and easier to read!

Engaging in peer editing has its benefits too. You learn from your friends’ work and they learn from yours. It can be fun spotting each other’s mistakes and helping correct them. It strengthens friendship bonds while improving your language skills together!

Types of Writing Prompts Suitable for Fourth Graders

You’re probably wondering what types of creative challenges are suitable for a nine or ten-year-old, aren’t you? Well, when it comes to prompt selection and grading criteria, here’s a simple guide:

• Narrative Prompts
• Encourage them to share personal experiences.
• Challenging them with ‘what if’ scenarios sparks creativity.
• Informational Prompts
• Ask your kids to write about something they’ve learned.
• Assign topics related to their current studies at school.
• Opinion-based Prompts
• Let them express their thoughts on specific subjects.
• This helps in developing argumentative skills.

How to Encourage Creative Writing in Fourth Graders

Don’t underestimate the power of a good storybook, as it can inspire the creative genius in your young ones. Encourage them to try out different storytelling techniques they find interesting. They could experiment with dialogue, suspense, or flashbacks. Let their imagination run wild!

Next, introduce peer reviewing in a fun way. Have them swap stories with friends and give feedback to each other. This approach helps them learn how to constructively critique and accept criticism for improvement.

Fun and Engaging Writing Prompts for Fourth Graders

Let’s explore some exciting and interactive ideas that will stimulate your young one’s creativity and love for storytelling.

Interactive Storytelling is an inventive method to engage fourth graders. They can visualize the narrative through Prompt Illustrations.

You can use these prompts:

• ‘Imagine if you could talk with animals. What would they say?’
• Draw a scene where you’re conversing with a bird.
• ‘A magical door appears in your room, where does it lead?’
• Sketch the fantastical world behind the door.
• ‘What if you discovered a new planet?’
• Create an illustration of this new planet with its unique inhabitants.

Each prompt encourages creative thinking and writing while incorporating art. It will not only make learning fun but also nurture their imaginative skills.

The Role of Parents in Enhancing Writing Skills

You play a vital role in your child’s educational journey, especially when it comes to enhancing their writing skills.

Let’s delve into how you can get more involved in their homework, inspire creative writing, and build vocabulary together.

Parental Involvement in Homework

Having your parents involved in your homework can really help you understand the material better. It’s not just about getting the answers right, but about parent-child bonding and establishing good homework routines.

So, here’s how it works:

• Parental guidance:
• They’ll clarify concepts
• Provide examples
• Help you practice
• Bonding time:
• Homework becomes family time
• You learn more about each other
• Share thoughts and ideas
• Routine setting:
• Consistent timing to do assignments
• Balancing schoolwork with playtime
• Learning discipline and responsibility

Encouraging Creative Writing

Encouraging your imagination to run wild, creative storytelling can be a fun and engaging way to improve literacy skills. By incorporating technology, you’ll find numerous platforms that provide interactive writing prompts for your fourth grader. Think about virtual storybooks or online games centered on storytelling techniques; they make the process enjoyable while enhancing their creativity.

You can also try apps that give a whole new dimension to story construction. They’re not just about typing words; they offer features like adding images, animations, and sounds! It’s all about blending traditional storytelling with modern tools.

Building Vocabulary Together

Building vocabulary together isn’t just educational, it’s also a great way to bond with your child. By playing Word Games and engaging in Vocabulary Challenges, you’re not only helping them learn new words but also developing their thinking skills.

Here are three fun ways to do this:

• Scrabble : This classic game is perfect for 4th graders as it encourages word formation. Get creative by introducing bonus points for certain categories of words. Challenge each other with spelling and pronunciation tests.
• Crossword Puzzles : These are great for enhancing vocabulary and problem-solving skills. Choose age-appropriate puzzles. Cooperate to fill the puzzle faster!
• Charades with Words : A twist on traditional charades; guess the word based on acted clues! Make sure words aren’t too hard!

Teaching Resources for Fourth Grade Writing Prompts

You’ll find a wide array of teaching resources designed specifically for fourth grade writing prompts. These materials are carefully crafted to assist in prompt categorization, which is crucial in organizing your lessons easier. It’s also helpful for students as they can focus on one theme at a time, ensuring a comprehensive understanding of each topic.

Another unique feature you’ll appreciate is prompt personalization. This allows you the freedom to tweak prompts according to your class’ interests and learning levels. By doing so, you’re not only making writing tasks more appealing but also promoting active participation among your learners.

Tips on Making Writing an Enjoyable Activity for Fourth Graders

Making the task of penning down thoughts a fun activity for your pupils can be quite a game-changer in their academic journey. Here are some ways to make writing more enjoyable:

• Interactive storytelling: Use visual aids, props, and interactive elements to bring stories to life. This could include acting out scenes from the story and using digital tools for creating illustrations.
• Peer reviews: Encourage students to share their work and provide feedback to each other. This could involve setting up small group discussions and having one-on-one peer editing sessions.

So, you’re all set to help your fourth grader thrive in writing! Remember, encouraging creativity is key. Use fun prompts, offer support, and make it enjoyable.

With these resources and tips at hand, boosting their skills will be a breeze.

Let’s make learning exciting for them together!

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Get Our Free PowerPoint With 100 Writing Prompts for Grades 4-8

Fun and creative invitations to write.

A good writing prompt can be just the thing to turn a reluctant writer into one who won’t lift their pen from the page! That’s why we created this free PowerPoint featuring 100 creative writing prompts for middle school and upper-elementary students. 

We designed our creative writing prompts for grades 4–8, but the PowerPoint is completely editable, so feel free to make changes or adaptations based on your own group of students. To get your free writing prompts for middle school and beyond, just submit your email here.

There are several different types of writing prompts included:

Thought-provoking questions

Responding to a quote

Social-emotional writing prompts

Prompts that ask students to put on their editors’ hats

And so many more—100 writing prompts in all, each one designed to get your students thinking and putting their pen to paper. 

Just click the orange button below to get your writing prompt bundle today!

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Grade 4 Writing Prompts

25 inspiring fourth grade writing prompts.

Get your child's imagination flowing with these wonderful, Grade 4 writing prompts!

Story starters

“if i was…”, general prompts.

• I awoke from my dream and…
• Samantha looked out of her window and saw…
• There was a bright flashing light in the distance…
• I was frozen to the spot, afraid to move because…
• James didn’t realize it yet, but…
• If I was president…
• If I was a teacher…
• If I was an astronaut…
• If I was an engineer…
• If I was an adventurer…
• Has technology improved the world?
• Should students be allowed to choose what to study?
• Should violent video games be banned?
• Can you buy happiness with money?
• How can we slow down global warming?
• How will people travel in 100 years?
• Describe the perfect robot. What features does it have and what can they do?
• Invent a new game and write instructions for it.
• Invent a new tasty smoothie!
• Describe the home of the future.
• If you had one million dollars, how would you spend it?
• What would it be like to live with an elephant?
• What job would you like to have when you are older, and why?
• If you could have a super power, what would it be?
• What would be in your ideal meal? Use all of your senses to describe it in detail.

How Night Zookeeper can help

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Our language arts program for kids can help to improve your child's skills while keeping them engaged, focused, and entertained! Our extensive range of writing activities provide children with thousands of creative writing prompts, interactive lessons, and challenges to ensure steady progression. We also offer personalized feedback from real teachers on all the work submitted on the program.

Sign up today and get a 7-day FREE trial!

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• Award-winning reading & writing program for kids
• Improves spelling, grammar, punctuation & vocabulary
• Over 1,000 different learning games and activities

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Fourth Grade Creative Writing Worksheets

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• Fill-in Story: The Halloween Party
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• Fill-in Story: Halloween Carnival
• Story Starters
• Writing a Personal Narrative (Gr. 4)
• Student Proofreading Checklist
• Creative Writing with Photo Inspiration
• Same Name Word Puzzle
• Life in the Sea
• Bio Poem Handout
• Favorite Foods
• Writing a Research Report (Gr. 4)
• Slavery Writing Prompt
• Writing Assignment Rubric
• Discovering Prepositions 5
• Discovering Subjects and Predicates
• Fill in the Beginning and End of Comic Strips
• Script Writing Handout
• Writing Self-Assessment
• Make Your Own Holiday
• A Note About Witches: Fill-in-the-Blanks
• Antonyms and Synonyms
• Immigration Picture Prompts
• My New Year's Resolutions (3-6)
• Discovering Pronouns 10
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• Discovering Capitalization 4
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Creative Writing Topics For Class 4 Format, Topics, Examples

Creative writing is an important aspect of the English curriculum for class 4. It is an opportunity for students to express themselves through their writing and to develop their imagination and creativity. In this article, we will discuss some creative writing topics for class 4, the format, and provide examples to help guide students.

Format of Creative Writing:

The format of creative writing is flexible, allowing students to explore different styles and formats based on their interests and creativity. However, a basic structure can be followed to help students organize their writing:

1. Introduction: The introduction should grab the reader’s attention and introduce the topic or theme of the writing. It can be a sentence or two that sets the scene or introduces a character.

2. Body: The body of the writing should contain the main content and story of the writing. This can be broken down into paragraphs or sections that build upon the introduction and develop the plot or characters.

3. Conclusion: The conclusion should wrap up the writing and leave the reader with a sense of closure. It can be a summary of the story or a final thought or message for the reader.

Also Read: Creative Writing Topics For Class 7

Topics for Creative Writing:

1. A day in the life of a superhero 2. A magical adventure in a forest 3. A journey to the center of the Earth 4. A visit to a planet in outer space 5. A secret is hidden in a haunted house 6. A day at the beach 7. A surprise party for a friend 8. An imaginary creature and its adventures 9. A Day in the Life of a talking animal 10. A time travel adventure to the past or future

Examples of Creative Writing:

1. A Day in the Life of a Superhero:

Today was just another day for my superhero alter ego. I woke up early, put on my trusty suit, and headed out to save the world. The first task of the day was to stop a robbery in progress. I swooped in and caught the criminals before they could get away with the loot. Next, I had to stop a runaway train from crashing into the city. With my super strength, I was able to stop the train just in time. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, but I knew that I had made the world a little bit safer.

2. A Magical Adventure in a Forest:

One sunny day, my friends and I decided to explore the forest behind our neighborhood. As we wandered deeper into the woods, we stumbled upon a magical clearing filled with talking animals and shimmering trees. We soon discovered that the forest was under threat from an evil sorcerer who wanted to destroy the magical creatures and take over the forest. With the help of our new animal friends, we set out on a quest to stop the sorcerer and save the forest. It was a wild adventure, but we were able to defeat the sorcerer and restore peace to the forest.

3. A Journey to the Center of the Earth:

My journey to the center of the Earth began when I discovered a secret passage in my backyard. I followed the tunnel deep underground and eventually found myself in a mysterious underground world. As I explored this strange new world, I encountered all sorts of amazing creatures, from giant underground rivers to glowing crystals. But my journey was not without danger. I had to dodge falling rocks and avoid getting lost in the labyrinthine tunnels. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I reached the center of the Earth and gazed in wonder at the molten core.

4. A Visit to a Planet in Outer Space:

One day, I was taking a walk when a spaceship landed right in front of me. The door opened, and a friendly alien invited me aboard. We blasted off into space and traveled to his home planet, which was filled with strange creatures and plants. I was amazed at how different everything was compared to Earth. The alien showed me around the planet and even introduced me to his family. We played games and shared food, and I felt like I had made new friends. But soon, it was time to head back to Earth. As we said our goodbyes and the spaceship lifted off, I realized that this would be a day I would never forget.

5. A Secret Hidden in a Haunted House:

I had always been curious about the old abandoned house on the corner of my street. One day, I decided to explore it. As I stepped inside, I felt a chill run down my spine. The house was spooky and dark, and I could hear strange noises coming from the shadows. But then, I noticed a glimmer of light coming from a crack in the wall. I pushed aside the old wallpaper and discovered a secret room. Inside the room, I found an old diary that belonged to the previous owner of the house. As I read through the diary, I realized that there was a treasure hidden somewhere in the house. I set out to find the treasure and eventually discovered it hidden in a secret compartment behind the fireplace. It was an amazing adventure that I would never forget.

6. A Day at the Beach:

The sun was shining bright, and the waves were crashing against the shore. It was the perfect day for a trip to the beach. I spent the day building sandcastles, collecting seashells, and splashing in the ocean. The salty sea breeze filled my nostrils, and the warm sand tickled my toes. As the sun began to set, I sat on the beach and watched the colors of the sky change from blue to orange to pink. It was a beautiful moment that I wished could last forever.

7. A Surprise Party for a Friend:

My best friend’s birthday was coming up, and I wanted to plan a surprise party. I gathered all of our friends and decorated the backyard with balloons and streamers. When my friend arrived, we yelled, “Surprise!” and she was overjoyed. We played games, ate cake, and danced to our favorite songs. It was a perfect party that brought us all closer together.

8. An Imaginary Creature and Its Adventures:

My imagination had always been wild, but today, it was especially active. I imagined a creature with wings, a horn, and rainbow-colored fur. This creature, which I named Rainbow, had all sorts of adventures. We flew through the clouds, explored ancient ruins, and even met a talking tree. It was an exciting and magical journey that allowed me to explore my creativity.

9. A Day in the Life of a Talking Animal:

What if animals could talk? I imagined a world where my pet dog, Charlie, could talk. I wrote about a day in his life, from waking up and begging for breakfast to chasing squirrels in the park. Charlie had a lot to say and had all sorts of adventures. It was a fun and entertaining way to explore what it would be like if animals could communicate with us.

10. A Time Travel Adventure to the Past or Future:

What if we could travel through time? I imagined a time machine that could take me anywhere I wanted to go. I wrote about traveling to the future and seeing what the world would be like in 100 years. I saw flying cars, robots doing chores, and people living on Mars. It was a fascinating adventure that made me think about what the future might hold. Alternatively, I could write about traveling back in time and witnessing historical events, such as the signing of the Declaration of Independence or the first moon landing.

Creative writing is an important skill for students in class 4 to develop. By encouraging them to use their imagination and write creatively, they can improve their writing skills and develop their creativity. The topics mentioned above are just a few examples of the many possibilities for creative writing. Students can explore a variety of genres, including fantasy, adventure, mystery, and more. By writing creatively, students can express themselves in a unique way and explore different perspectives and ideas.

When writing creatively, it is important to remember to use descriptive language to help readers visualize the scenes and characters. Using sensory details, such as sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings, can help bring the story to life. It is also important to develop characters with unique personalities and backgrounds, as well as create a well-structured plot that builds suspense and keeps the reader engaged.

Creative writing is an excellent way for students in class 4 to develop their writing skills and explore their creativity. By providing them with interesting and engaging topics, teachers can encourage students to use their imagination and express themselves in a unique and creative way. Whether it’s exploring new worlds, solving mysteries, or simply describing a day at the beach, creative writing can provide a fun and rewarding experience for students of all ages.

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Wed, 19 Jan, 2022

6 interesting Fiction Writing Prompts for class 4 students and how to use them?

Linked table of contents.

Fiction writing prompts for class 4

How to use fiction writing prompts?

Importance of fiction writing prompts

Today’s fiction writing prompts

Benefits of fiction writing prompts

Fiction writing prompts are a great way to spark your children’s creative imagination and develop their creative writing skills . By using fiction writing prompts for Grade 4, you will ‌ be able to improve your children’s fiction writing skills and encourage them to create quality content.

Fiction Writing Prompts For Class 4

Make a list of four items that you may find in a lunch box. Use these items to write a poem or a story. You can title it "In My Lunch Box."

Write a story about what happens when you bring your pet to school for the day. What does your pet do?

Imagine that you have been stranded on an island and can have one person join you; who would it be? How would you survive?

Tell the story of the best birthday you ever had. Let us know how old you were and how this birthday stands out in your memory.

Who is the funniest member of your family? Please write five episodes when this person made you laugh.

Write a letter to people a century in the future, telling them about life today. What will life be like in 100 years?

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How To Use Fiction Writing Prompts?

Use the power of books as an example for your children to write their own stories. A great place to start the journey into creative writing is with fiction writing prompts for Grade 4. It is essential to start writing at an early age.

Fiction writing is a beautiful adventure for the mind, allowing children to explore new ideas and escape to a world of their own making. 

Bonus: It's great fun!

Using one of the fiction writing prompts as a stand-alone activity can also be used as a basis for longer stories or plot outlines. You can ask the children to regularly write one sentence or a short story based on the prompts. Additionally, they can take the more ambitious approach and use these prompts to create a novel. 

Importance Of Fiction Writing Prompts

The essential requirement of fiction writing is imagination. The world of fiction is all about creativity and innovation. There are no rules, structures, or boundaries.

Fiction writing prompts are a great way to get started on your next short story or novel. They can help your children decide what kind of story to write, what characters to include, or how much description to add. 

It can be challenging to figure out what to do with a blank page when writing. But fiction writing prompts for grade 4 make things easier.

Today's Fiction Writing Prompt

Today's writing prompt is a little different than usual. Instead of just a single prompt, today's prompt contains two separate creative writing prompts, and they both deal with the same subject – you!

Everyone needs to know how to write about themselves, as it's a valuable skill that will come in handy in many different situations. For example, you may need to write about yourself when applying for college or jobs or working on a personal project such as a memoir.

There are many ways to use fiction writing prompts for Grade 4 children. You can use them as part of an assignment, journal entry, or even a quick review for an upcoming exam. 

Want your child to learn creative writing? Book a FREE class with PlanetSpark’s and start learning through fictional writing prompts!

Benefits Of Fiction Writing Prompts

It is vital to start writing in the early stages of life. This will help the children to improve their writing skills. Fiction writing prompts are designed to help Class 4 children improve their creative writing skills.

Children can get started with any story they have in mind. This will help them get rid of their creative blocks and help them get started. It is hard to start with a blank page and with no idea about what to write. It would be best if your children had some inspiration or something that could motivate them and get started with their story.

The prompts can be anything like a one-line sentence, picture, question, etc. This prompt aims to give your children a starting point so that they don't have to start every article with a blank page. Once they have chosen their prompt, they can write on it as much as possible without worrying about the article's length or how long it would take to finish it.

Fiction writing prompts are just some ideas that can be used as an inspiration for your Class 4 children’s next story. These prompts will help them develop their creativity and imagination. 

Fiction writing prompts can be utilised in several ways. They will help children think about the characters, setting, and plot of the story. They are also helpful for students who are having difficulty understanding their lessons.

For more information, talk to our experts NOW! 

Fiction writing prompts for 4th Graders are a fun and creative way to teach children about writing. It is an excellent way to inspire creativity in children, and it can also be used as an activity that encourages participation from everyone involved. 

These prompts can be used as part of a lesson plan or simply to promote the involvement of all participants. It will help them enhance their writing skills and express themselves more proficiently. 

How should 4th Graders approach their writing?

The story your child writes should have dialogue, descriptive words, and transitional language, whether it is inspired by a favorite book, real events, or their imagination. Ensure that you review the details and accurate language used to render characters.

How can I motivate my students to write in 4th grade?

Here are some tips to motivate students to write:

Make them write about themselves. 

Give your students a purpose for writing. Let them know why their work is important.

Whether they're writing an essay or a story, give your students an assignment that allows them to be creative. 

How do you come up with creative writing prompts?

Orient the student to the topic or writing situation by introducing the topic or mentioning a generalisation. 

Create a personal connection to the topic and encourage students to brainstorm.

Give a description of the task, the audience, and the purpose of the writing.

How can these writing prompts get children thinking?

Writing prompts can help new writers get an idea of what to write about. Sometimes it's hard for children to know where to begin when starting a new piece of writing. Prompts help them focus on a specific topic. They also allow children to practice their handwriting and spelling skills.

State some fiction writing prompts for 4th Graders.

Here are some writing prompts for 4th Graders:

Who are you? What makes you tick?

How do you make yourself laugh?

Do you have a favorite part of being in our class?

During your favorite summer vacation, where did you go? …

Can you describe a time when you provided something of yours to someone who needed it?

People who read this blog, also read this:

Effective tips for Fiction Writing Prompts for Preschool

How Fiction Writing Prompts Benefit Kindergarten Children?

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4 types of Writing Prompts that a class 2 student must know!

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Top 100 Short Story Ideas

by Joe Bunting | 128 comments

Do you want to write but just need a great story idea? Or perhaps you have too many ideas and can’t choose the best one? Well, good news. We’ve got you covered.

Below are one hundred short story ideas for all your favorite genres. You can use them as a book idea, as writing prompts for writing contests , for stories to publish in literary magazines , or just for fun!

Use these 100 story ideas to get your creative writing started now.

Editor’s note: This is a recurring guide, regularly updated with ideas and information.

If you're in a hurry, here's my 10 best story ideas in brief, or scroll down for the full version.

Top 10 Story Ideas

• Tell the story of a scar.
• A group of children discover a dead body.
• A young prodigy becomes orphaned.
• A middle-aged woman discovers a ghost.
• A woman who is deeply in love is crushed when her fiancé breaks up with her.
• A talented young man's deepest fear is holding his life back. 
• A poor young boy or girl comes into an unexpected fortune.
• A shy, young woman unexpectedly bumps into her soulmate.
• A long journey is interrupted by a disaster.
• A young couple run into the path of a psychopath.

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Why Creative Writing Prompts Are Helpful

Below, you'll find our best creative writing prompts and plot ideas for every genre, but first, why do we use prompts? Is it just a waste of time, or can they actually help you? Here are three reasons we  love writing prompts at The Write Practice:

1. Practice the Language!

Even for those of us who are native English speakers, we're all on a language journey to go from beginners to skilled writers. To make progress on this language journey, you have to practice, and at The Write Practice, believe it or not, we're really into practice! Creative writing prompts are easy, fun ways to practice.

Use the prompts below to practice your storytelling and use of language. The more you practice, the better of a writer you'll become.

2. When you have no ideas and are stuck.

Sometimes, you want to write, but you can't think up any ideas. You could either just sit there, staring at a blank page, or you could find a few ideas to help you get started. Even better if the list of ideas is curated from our best plot ideas over the last decade that we've been publishing lessons, writing exercises, and prompts.

Use the story ideas below to get your writing started. Then when your creativity is warmed up, you'll start to come up with your own ideas!

3. To develop your own ideas.

Maybe you do have an idea already, but you're not sure it's good. Or maybe you feel like it's just missing some small piece to make it better. By reading other ideas, and incorporating your favorites into your   story, you can fill your plot holes and generate creative ideas of your own.

Use the story ideas below to develop your own ideas.

4. They're fun!

Thousands of writers use the prompts below every month, some at home, some in classrooms, and even a few pros at their writing “office.” Why? Because writing prompts can be fun. They get your creativity started, help you come up with new ideas of your own, and often take your writing in new, unexpected directions.

Use the plot ideas to have more fun with writing!

How to Write a Story

One last thing before we get to the 100 story ideas, let’s talk about how to write a great short story . (Already know how to write a great story? No problem. Just skip down to the ideas below.)

• First, read stories. If you’ve never read a story, you’re going to have a hard time writing one. Where do you find great stories? There are a lot of places, but check out our list of  46 Literary Magazines  we’ve curated over here .
• Write your story in a single sitting. Write the first draft of your story in as short a time as possible, and if you’re writing a short story , try to write it in one sitting. Trust me, this works. Everyone hates being interrupted when they’re telling compelling stories. Use that to your advantage and don’t stop writing until you’ve finished telling yours.
• Read your draft. Read your story through once, without changing anything. This will give you a sense of what work it needs going forward.
• Write a premise. After reading your first draft, get your head around the main idea behind your story by summarizing your story in a one sentence premise. Your premise should contain four things: a character, a goal, a situation, and a special sauce. Not sure what that means or how to actually do that? Here’s a full premise writing guide .
• Write, edit, write, and edit. Good writing is rewriting. Use your second draft to fill in the plot holes and cut out the extraneous scenes and characters you discovered when you read the first draft in step #2. Then, polish up your final draft on the next round of edits.
• Submit! Real writers don’t keep their writing all to themselves. They share it. Submit your story to a literary magazine , an anthology series , enter it into a writing contest , or even share it with a small group of friends. And if it gets rejected, don’t feel bad. You’ll be in good company.

Want to know more? Learn more about how to write a great short story here .

Our 100 Best Short Story Ideas, Plot Ideas, and Creative Writing Prompts

Ready to get writing? Here are our 100 best short story ideas to kickstart your writing. Enjoy!

10 Best General Short Story Ideas

Our first batch of plot ideas are for any kind of story, whether a spy thriller or a memoir of your personal life story. Here are the best story ideas:

• Tell the story of a scar, whether a physical scar or emotional one. To be a writer, said Stephen King, “The only requirement is the ability to  remember every scar .”
• A group of children discover a dead body. Good writers don’t turn away from death, which is, after all, the  universal human experience. Instead, they look it directly into its dark face and describe what they see on the page.
• A young prodigy becomes orphaned. Orphans are uniquely vulnerable, and as such, they have the most potential for growth.
• A middle-aged woman discovers a ghost. What do Edgar Allen Poe, Ron Weasley, King Saul from the Bible, Odysseus, and Ebenezer Scrooge have in common? They all encountered ghosts!
• A woman who is deeply in love is crushed when her fiancé breaks up with her. “In life every ending is just a new beginning,” says Dakota Fanning’s character in Uptown Girls.
• A talented young man’s deepest fear is holding his life back. Your character’s biggest fear is your story’s secret weapon. Don’t run from it, write about it.
• A poor young boy or girl comes into an unexpected fortune. Not all fortunes are good. Sometimes discovering a fortune will destroy your life.
• A shy, young woman unexpectedly bumps into her soulmate (literally bumps into him). In film, this is called the “meet cute,” when the hero bumps into the heroine in the coffee shop or the department store or the hallway, knocking her books to the floor, and forcing them into conversation.
• A long journey is interrupted by a disaster. Who hasn’t been longing to get to a destination only to be delayed by something unexpected? This is the plot of  Gravity ,  The Odyssey , and even  Lord of the Rings .
• A young couple run into the path of a psychopath. Monsters, whether people who do monstrous things or scaly beasts or a monster of a natural disaster, reveal what’s really inside a person. Let your character fall into the path of a monster and see how they handle themselves.

Now that you have an idea, learn exactly what to do with it.  Check out my new book The Write Structure which helps writers take their ideas and write books readers love. Click to check out  The Write Structure  here.

More Short Story Ideas Based on Genre

Need more ideas? Here are ideas based on whichever literary genre you write. Use them as character inspiration, to start your own story, or borrow pieces to generate your own ideas. The only rule is, have fun writing!

By the way,  for more story writing tips for each these plot types, check out our full guide to the 10 types of stories here .

10 Thriller Story Ideas

A thriller is any story that “thrills” the reader—i.e., gets adrenaline pumping, the heart racing, and the emotions piqued.

Thrillers come in all shapes and forms, dipping freely into other genres. In other words, expect the unexpected!

Here are a few of my favorite thriller story ideas :

Rosa Rivera-Ortiz is an up-and-coming lawyer in a San Diego firm. Held back by her ethnicity and her gender, she works twice as hard as her colleagues, and she’s as surprised as anyone when she’s requested specifically for a high-profile case. Bron Welty, an A-list actor and action star, has been arrested for the murder of his live-in housekeeper. The cop heading the case is older, ex-military, a veteran of more than one war, and an occasional sufferer of PTSD. Rosa’s hired to defend the movie star; and it seems like an easy win until she uncovers some secrets that not only make her believe her client is guilty, but may be one of the worst serial killers in the past two decades… and he knows she found out .

It’s the Cold War. Sergei, a double-agent for the CIA working in Berlin, is about to retire when he’s given one final mission: he’s been asked to “defect” to the USSR to help find and assassinate a suspected double-agent for the Kremlin. Sergei is highly trusted, and he’s given to understand that this mission is need-to-know only between him and very few superior officers. But as he falls deeper into the folds of the Iron Curtain, he begins to suspect that his superior officer might just be the mole, and the mark Sergei’s been sent to kill is on the cusp of exposing the leak.

It is 1800. A lighthouse on a barren cliff in Canada. Two lighthouse keepers, German immigrants, are alone for the winter and effectively cut off from the rest of the world until the ice thaws. Both Wilhelm and Matthias are settled in for the long haul with warm clothes, canned goods, and matches a-plenty. Then Wilhelm starts hearing voices. His personal belongings disappear from where he’d placed them, only to reappear in strange spots—like the catwalk, or dangling beneath the spiral stair knotted in brown twine. Matthias begs innocence. Little by little, Wilhelm grows convinced that Matthias is trying to convince him (Wilhelm) to kill himself. Is the insanity real, or is this really Matthias’ doing? And if it is real, what will he do to defend himself? There are so many months until the thaw. 

20 Mystery Story Ideas

Enjoy a good whodunit? Then you’ll love these mystery story ideas .

Here are a few of my favorites:

Ever hear the phrase, “It is not who fired the shot but who paid for the bullet?” This is a philosophy Tomoe Gozen lives by. Brave and clever, Tomoe follows clues until she learns who ordered the murder: Emperor Antoku himself. But why would the emperor of Japan want to kill a lowly soldier?

Mystery writer Dan Rodriguez takes the subway every day. Every day, nothing happens. He wears earbuds and a hoodie; he’s ignored, and he ignores. Then one evening, on his way home from a stressful meeting with his publisher, Dan is startled out of his funk when a frantic Middle-Eastern man knocks him over at a dead run, then races up the stairs—pursued by several other thugs. The Middle-Eastern man is shot; and Dan discovers a mysterious package in the front pocket of his hoodie. What’s inside, and what does he need to do to survive the answer?

A headless corpse is found in a freshly-dug grave in Arkansas. The local police chief, Arley Socket, has never had to deal with more than missing gas cans and treed cats. His exploration of this weird murder digs up a mystery older than the 100-year-old town of Jericho that harkens all the way back to a European blood-feud.

20 Romance Story Ideas

Ready to write a love story? Or perhaps you want to create a subplot with a secondary character? We've got ideas for you!

Hint: When it comes to romance, a sense of humor is always a good idea. Have fun! Here are a few of my favorite love story ideas :

She’s a cop. He’s the owner of a jewelry store. A sudden rash of break-ins brings her to his store over and over and over again, until it becomes obvious that he might be tripping the alarm on purpose—just to see her. That’s illegal—but she’s kind of falling for him, too. Write the moment she realizes she has to do something about this crazy illicit courtship.

Colorado Animal Rescue has never been more challenging than after that zoo caught on fire. Sally Cougar (no jokes on the name, or she’ll kill you) tracks down three missing tiger cubs, only to find they’ve been adopted by millionaire Bryce Champion. Thanks to an antiquated law on the books, he legally has the right to keep them. It’s going to take everything Sally has to get those tiger cubs back.

He’s a museum curator with a fetish for perfection. No one’s ever gotten close to him; how could they? They’re never as perfect as the portraits, the sculptures, the art that never changes. Then one day, an intern is hired on—a young, messy, disorganized intern, whose hair and desk are in a constant state of disarray. The curator is going half-mad with this walking embodiment of chaos; so why can’t the he stand the thought of the intern leaving at the end of their assistantship?

20 Sci-Fi Story Ideas

From the minimum-wage-earning, ancient-artifact-hunting time traveller to the space-exploring, sentient dinosaurs, these sci-fi writing prompts will get you set loose your inner nerd.

Here are a few of my favorite sci-fi ideas :

In a future society, neural implants translate music into physical pleasure, and earphones (“jacking in”) are now the drug of choice. Write either from the perspective of a music addict, OR the Sonforce agent (sonance + enforcer) who has the job of cracking down.

It’s the year 5000. Our planet was wrecked in the great Crisis of 3500, and remaining human civilization survives only in a half dozen giant domed cities. There are two unbreakable rules: strict adherence to Life Quality (recycling doesn’t even begin to cover these laws), and a complete ban on reproduction (only the “worthy” are permitted to create new humans). Write from the perspective of a young woman who just discovered she’s been chosen to reproduce—but she has no interest in being a mother.

So yeah, ancient Egypt really was “all that” after all, and the pyramids turn out to be fully functional spaceships (the limestone was to preserve the electronics hidden inside). Write from the perspective of the tourist exploring the ancient society who accidentally turns one on.

20 Fantasy Story Ideas

Need a dose of sword-in-the-stone, hero and/or heroine packed coming-of-age glory?  We love fantasy stories!

Here are a few of my favorite fantasy story ideas:

Bored teenaged wizards throwing a graduation celebration.

Uncomfortable wedding preparation between a magic wielding family tree and those more on the Muggle side of things.

A fairy prince who decides to abandon his responsibilities to become a street musician.

Just try to not have fun writing (or even just reading!) these fantasy writing prompts.

The Secret to Choosing the Best Story Idea

Stories, more than any other artistic expression, have the power to make people care. Stories have the ability to change people’s lives.

But to write a great story, a life-changing story, don’t just write about what your characters did, said, and saw. Ask yourself, “Where do I fit in to this story? What is my personal connection to this story?”

Robert Frost said this:

If you can connect your personal story to the story you’re writing, you will not only be more motivated to finish your story, you might just be able to change the lives of your readers.

Next Step: Write Your Best Story

No matter how good your idea, writing a story or a book can be a long difficult process. How do you create an outline, come up with a great plot, and then actually  finish  it?

My new book  The Write Structure  will help. You'll learn how to take your idea and structure a strong plot around it. Then you'll be guided through the exact process I've used to write dozens of short stories and over fifteen books.

You can learn more about   The Write Structure  and get your copy here.

Have a great short story idea?  We'd love to hear it. Share it in the comments !

Choose one of these ideas and write a short story in one sitting (aim for 1,000 words or less!). When you're finished, share your story in the practice box below (or our latest writing contest ) for feedback from the community. And if you share, please be sure to comment on a few stories by other writers.

Joe Bunting

Joe Bunting is an author and the leader of The Write Practice community. He is also the author of the new book Crowdsourcing Paris , a real life adventure story set in France. It was a #1 New Release on Amazon. Follow him on Instagram (@jhbunting).

Want best-seller coaching? Book Joe here.

Work with Joe Bunting?

WSJ Bestselling author, founder of The Write Practice, and book coach with 14+ years experience. Joe Bunting specializes in working with Action, Adventure, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, How To, Literary Fiction, Memoir, Mystery, Nonfiction, Science Fiction, and Self Help books. Sound like a good fit for you?

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“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.” —Robert Frost

Great quote, right?

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My latest project has been working on a TV-format screenplay. In TV writing, there are B storylines, which are plot lines that span the course of a season (or several seasons). Each episode, however, has an A storyline, which is the plot of the events in that particular episode. Each A storyline is essentially a short story, and churning them out is surprisingly difficult! Lately I’ve been outlining episodes for my own story. I’ve just completed one that I particularly like, and would love to hear what you all think!

The Vampire Cat

The episode opens with Leiko telling the rest of the crew The Dream of Akinosuke. She finishes the story and they all head off to bed. Leiko walks Shannon to her room. On the way, Shannon asks Leiko if the events of the story were the main character’s dreams or if they were real. Leiko replies that for the Japanese the line between dreams and reality is very thin. They say goodnight and part ways.

The next day, the crew touches down on planet Lorraine. Their mission is to rob an auction house of a valuable piece of art if their client is not able to purchase it. They attend the auction. The client is outbid, so that night they return to the auction house to steal the sculpture. While looking for it, Leiko uncovers a dimension hopping machine, which she assumes to be a piece of junk. The crew is surprised by the auction house’s guards. Shannon is shot in the fight. Leiko tries to help her, but is intercepted by a guard. They fight, and Leiko falls inside the dimension hopping machine. She falls against a lever. The doors to the machine close and it begins spinning very fast. Leiko is thrown to the floor and the impact knocks her unconscious.

When she awakes, Leiko is no longer in the machine or the auction house. She is in a 16th century Japanese barracks, surrounded by soldiers. Furthermore, she is dressed like them and they address her as Soda. When she catches a glimpse of her reflection, she realizes to everyone else she looks like a Japanese man. Unsure if she is dreaming or not, Leiko decides to play along. She hears from the other soldiers that the prince of the region is seriously ill, and thinks maybe with her advanced medical knowledge she can help. She sneaks into the castle to see him. On the way, she passes a group of court ladies. The most beautiful of them smiles at Leiko and her eyes flash yellow. Leiko shakes it off, assuming she must be seeing things. She reaches the prince’s room and is shocked to find Shannon lying close to death, surrounded by attendants. She is discovered and thrown out, but she begs to be told what’s happened to the prince, and is informed he has a mystery sickness no doctor can diagnose. It is feared he will die. The prince’s attendants suggest that if she is so worried about her sovereign, she should pray for his health. Before she leaves, she uses to her dagger to look at Shannon’s reflection, and sees that her reflection is in fact that of the prince. Leiko feels the whole situation is somehow strangely familiar, but unable to put her finger on why, she decides there is nothing for it but to follow the attendants’ advice.

That night she goes to the holy quarter and bathes at the well before praying to the statue of Buddha for the prince’s/Shannon’s recovery. A voice calls to her, and she looks up to see a figure in a window above her. The figure asks her to come up. Leiko goes into the building and finds a priest who introduces himself as Ruiten and tells her he has been brought to the castle to find the source of the prince’s illness and asks for her help. Leiko finally realizes why this all seems familiar to her – she is in the story of The Vampire Cat of Nabeshima, playing the part of the young soldier Ito Soda. She makes a conjecture: the dimension hopping machine really worked and has brought her to the spirit world. Shannon, after being shot, is dying, and her spirit has taken the place of the prince in the story. If Leiko saves the prince, she saves Shannon. Ruiten agrees that this may be possible. Leiko agrees to help him. Knowing how the story goes, she now has a hunch as to what is causing the prince’s sickness.

Leiko goes back to the castle, and straight to the house of the court ladies. She digs under the verandah and finds exactly what she thought she would – the body of the beautiful lady, with puncture wounds in her throat.

The next day, Ruiten obtains permission for Leiko to keep watch over the prince with his attendants. That night, all the attendants fall asleep. Leiko keeps herself awake by stabbing herself in the leg. Later in the night, the beautiful lady comes to the room. She says her name is O Toyo, and she is the prince’s favorite companion. Under Leiko’s watchful eye, she cannot harm the prince, so she leaves.

The next morning, Leiko goes to confront the false O Toyo. They fight. Before Leiko can kill her, the false O Toyo shifts to her true form – a demonic black cat – and escapes the castle. Ruiten sends soldiers after her. Just then, there’s a scream from the prince’s room. Leiko and Ruiten rush from to the room and are told the prince is dead. Leiko pushes her way to the bed and, taking Shannon in her arms, pleads with her to wake up. In course of this, Leiko realizes she’s in love with her friend. Suddenly Shannon opens her eyes and says Leiko’s name.

Leiko wakes up in the med bay of the Perseus, surrounded by the crew. Shannon is in the bed next to her, weak but alive. Leiko gets up to tend to her. Shannon asks if one of the crew was holding her, because she could have sworn she felt like she was lying in someone’s arms. Kaya jokes that she must have been having a good dream. Leiko remarks that maybe it was something more.

This is great! Seriously, I really enjoyed it. Now you have to write it! 🙂

Hey Sunny! Loving this website

Opps that was my grandma 🙂 But she right

Do you know of any Romance magazines that offer short story romances or literary magazines dedicated to just romance? Just curious.

I’m not familiar with any, but try googling “romance literary magazines” or “romance short stories” and I’m sure you’ll find some. Reply back if you find any that are particularly promising.

I just want to say, there are so many good stories on this website. This show the amount that you have helped all these people, maybe one day I will add myself to those people, thank you.

http://www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/by-writing-genre/romance-by-writing-genre/romance_markets

بدأت تمطر ورأيت الناس يسرعون للإختباء من قطراته فابتسمت لذكرى جميلة عبرت خاطرى ..تذكرت امى عندما كانت ترقص تحت المطر بفستانها الوردى..الهى كم كنت أعشق هذا الفستان عليها..كان يناسب بشرتها الفاتحة ونحولة جسدها .جذبتنى من يدى يومها واخذنا ندور فى حلقات لا تبدء ولا تنتهى. شعرت ببرودة يديها تصعق يداى وبرودة المطر تبلل وجهى أحسست وبالسعادة تغمرنى لانك اخيرا بجانبى واخيرا تبتسمين اشتقتك يا اماه ..أشتقت لتفاصيلك وابتسامتك. أشتقت لمعنى وجودك جانبى ..المطر يهطل، أعلم أنك لو كنت الأن معى لجذبتينى ورسمنا بأقدامنا دوائر حتى تبتل عظامنا ..سأرقص لك فقط وسأبتسم لك فقط. بدأت عيون الناس تتجه نحوى ..تستنكر فعلتى ولكنى لا أفعل شئ.انا فقط أخبر أمى إنى بخير وأنى أشتاقها..ولكن للمطر طعم غريب يا أمى. له طعم ألم فراقك ،طعم الحياة بدونك ؛هو المطر وهى الحياة ولكن طعمهما مؤلمين يا أمى

I’m writing a “Thriller.” I’m very excited. A short story. Thank you. Right on time as usual!

Fun! Good luck LaCresha.

I’m wondering about “the sagging middle” in story structure right now. I’m happy with my beginning and ending, but the middle isn’t as dynamic as I want it to be. Does anyone have any experiences or advice about this? (It’s a 25 000 word story that’s due for a competition in about four months.)

Hey Rosie. We have a few resources on that. First check out our structure and plot cheatsheet: https://thewritepractice.com/plot-structure . Then, a great guest post on story structure with a hole in it: https://thewritepractice.com/story-hole . And I always recommend Save the Cat, which is a book for screenwriters, but is also very helpful for story structure in general: http://amzn.to/1TNpv2F . Highly recommend it.

The story grid is a good site and podcast for story structure. 🙂

But longer than 15 min but here it is.

I rub my fingers into the soft fuzz on the big brown chair. I can make designs if I move my fingers up or down. A dot makes one eye. Then another. A line for a smile finishes my chair picture. ‘Why would Daddy take money and blow it into the wind?’ I wonder as I draw.

A wet spot lands by the mouth, making the brown turn dark. I try to wipe it away, but the face disappears instead. I lay back in the chair, bumping my twin brother and making the dim room spin. My pink and orange stripe shirt is soft as I wipe my eyes. James’s tears fall to the chair like rain, his mouth open like one of the squishy balls we play with. His cry is loud. I join the noise.

Mommy’s hair, as dark as the wet spot on our chair, poofs around her face. Her green eyes seem small with her eyebrows close together. Teeth and gums show as Mommy screams like a roaring lion. Daddy points a finger at her nose. He looks so big. He yells, trying to be louder than her. James and I try to cry louder than them. Maybe they will hear us. Maybe they will stop.

Mommy lets out one last angry scream and tries to push Daddy away. A long red line comes on his arm. Red water comes out of it. Daddy’s eyes widen. His face turns red. He grabs Mommy by her arms, lifts her, and pushes her to the door like a rhinoceros. The wood breaks as they go through.

The noise has stopped, except for sirens in the distance. I curl into a ball in the chair, James’s knee sticking into my back, and close my eyes.

James and I get to sleep in the same bed tonight. It’s strange having Daddy read and tuck us in by himself, but he tells us Mommy will be home soon. I still don’t understand why she went to jail. I thought jail was for bad guys, but Daddy says everything will be ok.

The lights go out bringing shadow monsters. I hug my brother.

Bit longer than 15 minutes, but here it is

‘Scars’

The noise has stopped, except for sirens in the distance. I curl into a ball in the chair, James’ knee sticking into my back, and close my eyes.

This was so good! You have a really good writing style!

“The wall, he decided, will always be there”

He awoke, or at least it seemed he did, for he could not tell if he had been dreaming or if he were dreaming now. He pushed the woollen, scratchy blanket away from his body. There were no sheets, and his skin stuck to the plastic mattress that smelled of others sweat and urine. After prying his flesh from the tenacious bedding, he managed to sit up. He was more tired than he had remembered. He was still dirty and thirsty and his eyes hurt as they squinted in the dim hazy light. He drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. For long moments, he sat that way fearing punishment for doing anything that might be wrong.

Eventually, however, his eyes grew accustomed to the shadowy light and he began to see things. Across from him he could see a wall. He wondered how long the wall had been there. The question struck him as absurd. The wall he decided would always be there. In this confusion, he meditated on the hardness before him until a thought of beauty entered his mind and the nakedness upset him. “There are no pictures…it has no pictures hanging from it.” Lacking the courage, or cowardice, to look away he continued staring blankly until his sight improved still further and he found something within the wall that excited him. “I forgot…about…colour…I can see the colour now!” He tried to give the colour a name. “Dirty…” he thought. “Filth.” he said out loud. “It is a filthy colour.” he whispered silently to himself.

Quickly, the excitement left him and he began to grow tired of looking at the wall, even the colour began to bore him. The boredom gave him a sense of courage and he became bold. He decided to explore. Cautiously he moved his eyes to the right where he saw…a corner, Then the head began to turn to follow the lead of the eyes. They continued past the corner until they gazed upon something he recognized.

He hated what he saw, the familiar object that hid in the shadows…the thing that kept him here. He glared at it, but the closed and bolted door remained unmoved. It was then that he turned back to the wall he had grown to know and the boredom…he had grown to love.

incredible first sentence!

Incredible first sentence and incredible last sentence. Shivers up my spine. Thank you.

3 words…. copy and paste

Omg how why are people so good at writing stuff?!?!?

idek!?!?!!! i’m a freshman in high school and i can’t even write a simple short story.

Give it time…

This was a wonderful read ^_^ Short and enticingly written. Drew me in right away with that first bit, and especially the way it was all tied together by that first sentence. Lovely!

I know it’s been two years but it’s still very good and still deserves praise. I like this trippy atmosphere, you managed to convey it very nicely.

Some great story ideas here. You could even combine some of them in interesting, tenuous ways for a multi-location epic.

Thanks Bridget! Absolutely. And there’s nothing I love more than a good epic.

These are great ideas. I like the idea of prompts. Though sometimes, I get stuck when I write from a prompt. And sometimes, I’m not able to write a story in one sitting. I have to think about how I want the story to play out. I might have done it once, and they were pretty short. But most of the time, it takes a couple of sessions. That’s how I’m wired, I suppose.

Ten years of therapy, about a million different types of pills and three psychiatrists have helped me enough to write this. I was eleven when it happened, my older sister, Quinn, was almost sixteen, and my best friend was ten. I’ll never forget it… I doubt anyone ever will.

It was a warm summer day, early June, my best friend, Harper was over and we were playing in the backyard. We were laughing and singing along to a song that I couldn’t tell you the name of now. It was the middle of a normal day, but that’s what they always think just before everything goes wrong. Well, anyways,Harper and I amused ourselves doing everything and nothing for a while before we decided that we wanted to go to upstairs and bug Quinn, who we thought was doing her online drivers ed. courses. We raced up to her room, giggling like the little girls we were. When we got to her room, Harper grabbed the doorknob and tried to fling the door open, but it was locked. That should have been my first sign that something was wrong, Quinn never locked her door, we weren’t allowed to. We yelled, laughing, “Let us in! Let us in!” We giggled and knocking on her door again and again. There was no response, so I remember grabbing the key my parents always had, it opened all of the doors to me and my sibling’s bedrooms… I wish I would’ve known what I know now. I wish I wouldn’t have opened that door.

That day was the last happy day for a long time. I remember everything clearly, the breeze ruffling my short hair, the sound of Harper screaming the lyrics to our favorite song at the top of her lungs. I especially remember the thing that has haunted me for the past ten years. I remember my sister’s lifeless body lying in a pool of her own blood on her bed. I remember the look on her face being more peaceful than I’ve ever seen it. I remember screaming as I stared at the image of Quinn, her wrists bleeding and her skin pale. I remember the sound of Harper frantically dialing 911 and I remember the ambulance arriving. I remember the paramedics calling my parents and hearing my mom’s piercing scream from the phone. I remember the paramedics forcing me out of Quinn’s room, while I kicked and screamed at them, begging them to let me stay with my sister. It was the last time I saw her face. I remember collapsing in my dad’s arms. That was the first time I heard him cry, it wouldn’t be the last.

She was already dead when the ambulance got there. Suicide, they said, she killed herself. It took a long time to convince myself that it wasn’t my fault. If I had only went to see her sooner I could’ve saved her. The funeral was closed casket and everyone cried. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was too numb. I don’t remember much of the funeral, it was just a blur of black and navy blue, with the occasional apology thrown in there. I never got why everyone apologized, it wouldn’t bring her back.

I was just a little girl and there I was with my childhood torn away from me. I was a younger sister and then I was an only child. A piece of me has been missing from me ever since that die and I doubt I’ll ever get it back again.

This was based on the boy or gets an unexpected fortune. I flushed out the typos, but its okay. Check it out! 😀 Caleb Pratt

Mistaken Divinity

My bar drinks of the wooded timberland were one of the most profound expeditions in my walk into becoming a god. I cupped the glass of cool bud light, and sipped it up at the mini bar table. I rested my hand on the wooden counter top, my fans and companions gambling each other on some high level daredevil match.

“Hey, Lexan, where you at,” I turned to see my friend Rodriguez. Fun man to have around with. He was had long grey hair, even for a guy. I pushed off the table and stood straight. I kept my hand in my pocket.

“You have a lot of realty in the new diversion your causing. Sherman hasn’t even sighted any more Divine Partakers, let alone, any Christian circumspect.”

“I know I know, but… we are, what they are… except the for the grace,” Rodriguez said.

“Right,” I narrow my eyes down towards the ground. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say about us Mormons being what the Christian Community isn’t. I mean, there almost all extinct, if not a hundred percent. We are the erected believers… who are in sure denial of the forthcoming of any later day saints.

“So where is your ceremonial magic been taking you,” Rodriguez said. “Anyhow I could help in the cemetery on Route 430?”

“Uhh… I mean… yeah unless you have a cloak and a specialized dagger. I’d have to get you one of those. You’ll be all dressed like a Celtic.”

We laughed.

Rodriguez was a good friend of mine. Much older though. I was in my teen years and he was in his fifties.

“Man, Lexan, you need to grow a beard. Your seventeen years old… yet you look like you’ve graduated college. What happened to your power to manipulate appearance? Funny… its a shame Christians don’t have this kind of power… even heathens can’t do anything we can.”

“Yeah I can tell Rodge. Tell me, why haven’t you been practicing your divinity? You seem a little out of shape to be wrestling with angles and demons….”

“Well I… yeah I mean, sure. Lets say I’m kind of in a predicament.”

“What…?”

I lay my back against the counter.

“Well, down on Armenia Rd. there was a cross fight between me and some other foe. Not sure what to suspect of him, but the “man-woman” was between two others working for her, or he… I don’t know.”

I rest my chin on my thumb and index finger. I realize and hear there are other phenomena of some other cultist group here in Sherman. Our cult is wacky on its own. Though I don’t know what to think of this “he-she man” thing….”

BZZZZZ! BZZZZZ!

‘I heard you! Shut up!’

‘Enough, you asshole!’

WHACK! Pieces of metal and plastic shattered on the wall.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she muttered softly as she fights her every being not to shed a tear. Alas, she lost once again.

It’s been days since she last saw light. The shadows on the walls seemed permanently etched. Her sanctuary once filled with love, lust, and happiness, now wreaks with despair, anguish, and palpable desperation.

‘How did I get here?’ she thought. The same desperate thought she’s been clutching onto for days. Or maybe weeks? Months? Years?

It doesn’t matter. To Emma, time no longer exists with this unrelenting pain.

Once in a while, the light would sneak through the thick, heavy curtains. And Emma would almost succumb to a hint of a smile until it haunts her again.

His resilient hands on her supple breasts. His soft lips caressing her neck and slender sternum. His sturdy chest against her trembling body. His whole palpitating manhood devouring her salacious being. Every ridges of Paul haunt her. Now, it all has to be distant memories. Unshakeable, soul crushing memories.

After what seemed like a lifetime of horizontal desolation, she finally mustered some strength to sit at the edge of her bed. She slowly opened her bulging eyes, and finally saw the mess she was in. Rotting pieces of food in cardboard boxes, sea of crumpled tissue strewn with nauseating piles of laundry, and dismantled pieces of her once chirpy alarm clock scattered all over her dingy floor.

As she moved her gazed from the floor, she noticed the dent on her pristine white wall. She couldn’t help but stare. ‘That dent will be there for a long time,’ she thought.

With a throbbing grunt, Emma slowly stood up and shuffled towards her once chirpy alarm clock. She picked up the pieces and followed the faint light peeking through her bathroom door. As she turned the door knob, more tears rolled down her cheeks. It was excruciating, but this time it was different. The door closed and the room was dark once again.

“His resilient hands on her supple breasts. His soft lips caressing her neck and slender sternum. His sturdy chest against her trembling body. His whole palpitating manhood devouring her salacious being. Every ridges of Paul haunt her. Now, it all has to be distant memories. Unshakeable, soul crushing memories.”

He had left his Gameboy behind. There was nothing to do without it, nothing to do but kick his feet and stare at the dull blank walls. Even annoying Di-Di had lost its colour. He didn’t care what Ma or Papa said. He had to get his Gameboy back.

He pushed into the room. Ah Boy, wait outside ah. Don’t come in! Papa had seemed firm, but he was old enough now to know how to get out of trouble. He would run to Ma, hide behind her legs, maybe tearfully declare that he would run away from home because Papa was so mean. Anyway, Papa seemed so busy with Ah Gong nowadays. He wouldn’t bother to cane a little boy like him.

Where had everyone gone? He couldn’t have been in the corridor for so long. The room that was once packed full of relatives was empty. It was only Ah Gong left in the hospital bed.

Immediately he noticed that the mask over Ah Gong’s nose and mouth was gone. Who had removed it? Without the strange alien-octopus-thing perched on his face, Ah Gong looked like the grandfather he remembered. He moved closer to get a better look.

As he approached the bed he realized the mask was lying on the chair. The inside was stained with a rustlike substance he did not recognize. He held up the mask to the light, and rubbed the stain with a cautious index finger. A powder came off in his hand. With a shiver of disgust he realized it was dried blood.

“Di-Di!” He didn’t know if he was terrified or excited. Where was his brother? Ma had always rushed to daub up any blood in their house – whether from Di-Di falling when learning to ride his bicycle, Di-Di scratching him during one of their many fights, Papa tripping over a wire and later needing stitches in his forehead. He couldn’t pass up this golden opportunity to share with his brother: the chance to investigate blood without an adult present.

The Gameboy lay in the room, forgotten.

Wrote on ‘a group of children discover a dead body’. In case it wasn’t obvious.

“I do like llamas very much,” said Charleston, “In fact, they even have names.” “You are one freaky man, Charleston.” stated Larry

Very well said!!

Jeremy Reynolds had a party one day. He decided it would be a special theme. Deez Nutz, he decided would be a fitting title for a beach party.

*I am only 14 so please, don’t mind me if there are any mistakes. I am still in the process of learning, but I tried really hard*

He could write. He could write and he knew it. No one else knew. He’d never show them his pieces; his collection of fantasies and mysteries. He wanted his friends to know. No, he wanted the world to know. But he was fearful. He was fearful of his stories failing, of him failing.

Abram had written many short stories and novels, all of them printed in manuscript and hidden in a black lock-box under his bed. He was unmarried, for he didn’t need any other love than that of his trusty typewriter and parchment. Writing was frowned upon, in his country. Books were burned. Even the classics. They were all burned in a pile on the streets.

He wouldn’t risk it. He didn’t want that fate for his books. He worked to hard. He spent too much time revising and perfecting the novel; there was no way he would let them die.

Sighing, Abram cracked his knuckles and stood. He yawned and walked over to his bed, where he bent down and grabbed the lock-box from beneath the bed. Abram had kept the key underneath the mattress, in case anyone were to find this box that contained all of his treasured secrets.

He opened the box he hadn’t opened in many years. Removing the pieces of parchment, he sat on floor, listening for the sounds of Nazi vehicles who somehow sensed the unpublished books. But none came. There was only silence, which, to Abram’s surprise, seemed to grow stronger as each second passed.

Before he knew it, Abram had been sitting on his hard floor for hours, thinking. Thinking about what he knew not. He just knew he was thinking.

Abram stood slowly; carefully as if he was trying not to disrupt the dust that covered the dark floor. Walking over to his desk, he left his lock-box open; something he’d never done in the years past. He sat and placed some more parchment into the typewriter and began writing, or typing, you could say. But this time, something was different. Abram wasn’t writing just for fun, he was writing for purpose. This time, he thought, this time, I will be published and my work may fuel the world. And with that, he revealed his talent to the world.

Thank you so much!!

much thanks <3

I’m sorry I’m late but I just wanted to say this story is fantastic! Soon enough this will become a book! I’m from Hawaii and all I do is write and draw all day… Keep up the work and never give up! God bless and aloha!

Yours was the best story that I read on this page…

thank you!!!

Very empowering!!! I was also around your age when I started writing on this site.

Anyways, that short story was so full of meaning. We just happened to be doing an essay on the value of literature in English class so this really fit in nicely for me with that. Lovely! 🙂

oh thank you sooo much!! I greatly appreciate it!!

I enjoyed your story. Thank you for sharing. I especially liked how Abram developed his talent, and despite the fear of having his manuscripts destroyed, he decided to publish his work. Well done and well told.

I have noticed some tiny grammatical mistakes in your Story and correct it for you as I know that this short Story has potential to go very far. Here is the corrected version: He could write. He could write, and he knew it. No one else knew. He’d never show them his pieces; his collection of fantasies and mysteries. He wanted his friends to know. No, he wanted the world to know. But he was fearful. He was fearful of his stories failing, of him failing.

Abram had written many short stories and novels, all of them printed in manuscript and hidden in a black lock-box under his bed. He was unmarried, for he didn’t need any other love than that of his trusty typewriter and parchment. Writing was frowned upon, in his country. Books were burnt. Even the classics. They were all burned in a pile on the streets.

He wouldn’t risk it. He didn’t want that fate for his books. He worked too hard. He spent too much time revising and perfecting the novel; there was no way he would let them die.

He opened the box he hadn’t opened in many years. Removing the pieces of parchment, he sat on the floor, listening for the sounds of Nazi vehicles who somehow sensed the unpublished books. But none came. There was only silence, which, to Abram’s surprise, seemed to grow stronger as each second passed.

Abram stood slowly; carefully as if he was trying not to disrupt the dust that covered the dark floor. Walking over to his desk, he left his lock-box open; something he’d never done in the years past. He sat and placed some more parchment into the typewriter and began writing, or typing, you could say. But this time, something was different. Abram wasn’t writing just for fun, he was writing for a purpose. This time, he thought, this time, I will be published, and my work may fuel the world. And with that, he revealed his talent to the world.

I hope my effort has helped!

Is it OK if I put this on a website I’m making. It will get me money I need to have. You said your only 14, 9 months ago, so you could be 15, well I’m only 12. I need to learn to save up and this will help me. Everything I said here is true, please help me. Also, this is a great story and that is why I chose your to be on my website.

dude thats like literally directly stealing someone’s work for money that only goes to you. Just write your own story instead of stealing someone else’s.

Admit it. I am probably some dude who can’t even make a website, well I am, so don’t worry.

This is the story I am working on now. I wrote it a long time ago, but I am upgrading it now. Changing all the errors, making the vocabulary more sophisticated:

In a valley close to a river where melt-water splashed and where rhododendrons and roses bloomed, where linnets flew with doves above the clustered trees, lay a cave, mostly hidden by the immense pines and the crag. In the cave, out of reach from the sunlight, was a portal. The portal’s frame was the darkest shade of gold, with glowing orange lines carved into it. Glowing flecks of bright blue glow in the darkness of the cave. The portal lay un opened, but the frame still glowed in the shadows of the sombre cave.

In a desert of torturing, immense heat, where scorching light, too blistering to be called sunlight, burns the dehydrated ground, was a tunnel, buried under the sand. In the tunnel there was an ever-growing fortress of burnt leaves and sand with over-boiled water dripping the top. This is all that remained of the desert, nothing could survive in the world above, nothing except from the portal. The fortress was built around the portal; the portal was the darkest shade of black, with red around the rims of the frame.

The sound of water hitting the cold tiles that topped the floor brought a sense of entertainment to the girl sat in the small room covered in a mixture of scars and bruises, awaiting the next blow of the hammer upon her fragile body which shivered in the night air and soft breeze which entered via the half barricaded window. Again and again, almost as if it was a cruel rhythm the metal tool came down, never missing a hit, always landing upon her chest. The storm brewing outside was bad enough without the maniac and his hammer. These are soft blows for a man of his build, she thought, she was certain he intended to make this last all night long. She wanted to struggle, to scream! But the leather bindings made it impossible, who cares anyway, she thought, no one near this basement would care.

The sticky taste of iron filled her mouth, blood. Her body started to shudder, shock. By this point the inmate hitting had dropped the hammer and injected another load of hydrocodone, such a waste of such an effective pain killer. At last she tried to struggle, but even with the drugs numbing the sharp pain shooting trough her body she still couldn’t gain the strength to fuel her ineffective hope of escaping the inmate, after all, even if she did escape, in a mass breakout like this? She could die in a more demanding way.

With my free hand I felt the imperfections, holes, scratches, patches of long since dry blood that covered thee wooden operation table I lay on. How old was it? Thirty years? Forty? Who cares, it had to be old to be in the basement of Twin Rivers Asylum. This psychiatric institution had housed many atrocities, after all, Nazis built this asylum, catered the inmates…put them to work. We are only barely off the English channel; here in Channel Island’s Twin rivers asylum we have many an inmates. Young and old, French and British, they are all welcome here, hell, we have a Swedish inmate, talks to himself all day and night, his names Toby Buchman, we call him Toby-Talkative, how very fitting being his nurse I should die by his hand…

Ouch, be gentler Toby. Even through my drugged up husk of a body I felt that one. I and the staff thought you were joking when you said you were very strong, looks like you weren’t joking…

For such a shrivelled blotch of bones you have surprisingly good and when it comes to instrument of torture, your quite strong, why wouldn’t you be? Killing young women is why your here, Toby, you are one hell of a sociopath, brilliant mind, you’re like a more sadistic Hannibal Lecter minus eating his victims after all, I’m so helpless you could take a couple of bites out of me as I lie here, in the dark basement…

Fun fact, a goldfish’s attention span is three seconds, the average lunar eclipse takes 11 minutes to pass, and a wooden hospital bed from 19th century takes an average of 63 hits to break trough, 54 if you incorporate a body which weighs approximately 130lbs, and guess how much I weigh.

Suddenly I heard the wood buckle under the next hit a glorious hit as well as my straps loosening. Come on Toby, you brilliant old sociopath, you can do it, one more well made hit could send me free. What could go wrong? Toby stood motionless on the spot for a moment later Toby took another blow. I couldn’t breathe. The pain was so intense I felt every cell in my body explode in a chain reaction. The pain was so intense that it felt like a piece of heated iron had been pressed onto my skin. Despite that, a strange sort of calm fell over me: I was dying. I wasn’t coming back from this. Part of me thought, All right. Make it count. I wobbled on one foot about to run to the door, but unfortunately Toby kicked me at the wall. He was so strong, I thought All froze the leaves on the trees didn’t clatter, Toby didn’t stink anymore, Then it was gone all the memories of life returning to me. Then it all went away, my life was It was the end, nothing could stop that now…

I awoke in a bed, in a white room with a marble floor and a silver carpet at the foot of the bed; the wall behind her was a fancy, white wallpaper, decorated to look like a real wall. The wall on the left of the bed and in front of the bed were normal and white, on the right of the bed was a window, now covered, with a beige curtain. In the bed- where the girl lay were multiple cushions, all lay side by side at the top of the bed; the blanket covering her was soft and light. On the sides of the bed were two bed-side cabinets, one with a lamp and the other one with a vase, holding tulips and rhododendrons, on books by her favourite author, many she didn’t recognise. Promptly, she got up noticing there was a small, white table- shaped as a cylinder, with a transparent glass top; also noticing the chair behind it too. The chair was a traditional, leather armchair with four small metal legs holding it up. Then she turned to the door. It was white made, smooth and made out of oak, with a metal handle, a small, square keyhole under it.

As soon as I placed my hand on the door handle, it flew open with a tall, handsome man in the way with bright blue hair shaped as a fire and red eyes. “Welcome, Kayla to Valhalla. Where are you off so fast” he shouted with glee. “I was going out,” Kyla said trembling on the spot. “I didn’t think this is where I should be.” “In this hotel we are all dedicated to make you feel like home, for you will be staying here for the rest of your life. Sorry for my wrong vocabulary, you are already dead. For the rest of the time you need to practice.” “What !?” she yelled. “Are you saying I’m dead” “Yes I am,” the man asked confused.”May I introduce you to your new home”

So the two walked through what seemed to be a endless tour, but eventually came to an end. “And this is the dining room where you have dinner… Here is your breakfast room you can freely come here and invite friends if you are feeling lonely…” “So you are saying this is the place where all people go if they are an extremex and if they died they come here and become an extraextremex” “Yes,” said he.”And also that you are our leader because you can see what specie people are also take away their powers if needed.” “Can I take away the powers of sociopaths or weaken them with my mind beams whatever things.”

“Yes, you can but if you do that you will be weakened too. Also that is a high level trick, you are not high level- no offense” “Offense taken,” said Kayla, with her head down. So they continued on their tour and went walking through all the different floors and introducing Kyla to all the different people and members of staff. On they went about the limits of people and a lot of different stuff. After time, they started her training.

“Focus on me, ” Blaze was explaining to her how to see what specie he was.”Do not think of anything else. Not the colour of my nose, not what room we are in just on me the thoughts and memories of me. Now listen to the sound of my voice. You should be in a universe of darkness; are you?” “Yes I see black in the background and there are flying things in it.” “Yes those are my thoughts.” “I can also see images swirling around” “Those are memories” “I can also feel heat and cold environment when I move around. Are those your emotions” “Yes, the heat is happiness and the cold is anxiety or sadness. Now let’s focus on the specie part. To determine if I’m an Extraextremex, a normal Extremex or even an Oigreog. If I am an Extraextremex then you will not feel motion. If I was an Extremex then you would sense tingling and if I am an Oigreog then you’ll sense shaking. Which one do you sense?” “I sense tingling and shaking so you are one of the Oigreog in the times when Extremex where starting to populate the world. This that means you are an Exremog or an Exoiig” “I am an Exoiig. I have not died yet.” “But how are you here?” “Because I was the first Exoiig alive. I made this place” “But how?” “I used my powers to do it. That is why all the walls are shades of red, orange and yellow.” “Why didn’t you make mine a different colour.” “Because I need to keep track of what specie everyone is. I used Conjuration and Mysticism to make sure that every specie got the same shade of red or whatever.” They blabbered on about what it was like when Oigreog ruled the world, what Black Magic could do and how to control Extraextremex powers…

Kayla went to bed with the thoughts of how the world was made and how it transformed into this planet, when at the start it was billions of monsters – the Oigreog – fought and then somehow transformed into normal people who never fought in their lives. She also didn’t understand how there was only one person who had the power to see what specie one was… She woke with her hair curled up covering her face.

Once she tossed the hair off her face she noticed there was a book on her bed-side cabinet beside the lamp. When she picked it up, she noticed it was a book called “The Arts of Necromancy and Enchantments”. She soon noticed it was the book Blaze used to learn Black Magic. She was filled with a mixture of joy and shock. Then the door flew open. A small brown-haired boy was standing in the way. “Hi,” he said, holding a hand out to shake, “I am Logan, someone from you floor” “Hi,” Kayla said, shaking his hand, “I’m Kayla, an Extraextremex” “Do you want to go and have breakfast” “I guess so” said Kayla.

In the hallway, my neighbours were starting to emerge. Thomas Jefferson Jr looked about my age. He had short curly hair, a lanky frame and a rifle slung over one shoulder. His blue wool coat had brass buttons and chevrons on the sleeve – a U.S. Army Civil War uniform, I guessed. He nodded and smiled. ‘How you doing?’

‘Um, dead, apparently,’ I said. He laughed. ‘Yeah. You’ll get used to it. Call me T.J.’ ‘Kayla,’ I said. ‘Come on.’ Logan pulled me along.

We passed a girl who must’ve been Mallory Keen. She had frizzy red hair, green eyes and a serrated knife, which she was shaking in the face of a six-foot-seven guy outside the door marked X.

‘Again with the pig’s head?’ Mallory Keen spoke in a faint Irish brogue. ‘X, do you think I want to see a severed pig’s head every time I step out of my front door?’

‘I could not eat any more,’ X rumbled. ‘The pig head does not fit in my refrigerator.’ Personally, I would not have antagonized the guy. He was built like a bomb-containment chamber. If you happened to have a live grenade, I was pretty sure you could safely dispose of it simply by asking X to swallow it. His skin was the colour of a shark’s belly, rippling with muscles and stippled with warts. There were so many welts on his face it was hard to tell which one was his nose. We walked past, X and Mallory too busy arguing to pay us any attention.

We entered a small elevator and the doors closed, making the elevator sound. “One question: How does everyone get here.” “People called Collectors fly around the world collecting souls of dead Extremex. I am a Collectors.”

‘And you?’ I asked. ‘How did you become a Collector? Did you die a noble death?’ She laughed. ‘Not yet. I’m still among the living.’ ‘How does that work exactly?’ ‘Well, I live a double life. Tonight, I’ll escort you to dinner. Then I have to rush home and finish my calculus homework.’ ‘You’re not joking, are you?’ ‘I never joke about calculus homework.’ The elevator doors opened. We stepped into a room the size of a concert arena. My mouth dropped. ‘Holy –’ ‘Welcome,’ Logan said, ‘to the Feast Hall of the Slain.’

Rows of long tables, like a stadium, curved downward from the nosebleed section. In the center of the room, instead of a basketball court, a tree rose taller than the Statue of Liberty. Its lowest branches were maybe a hundred feet up. Its canopy spread over the entire hall, scraping against the domed ceiling and sprouting through a massive opening at the top. Above, stars glittered in the night sky.

What’s supposed to be your point? If you are receiving money from something YOU DO NOT OWN then it is obviously theft. YOU DO NOT PUT SOMEONE ELSES WORK ON YOUR OWN WEBSITE AND USE THAT MONEY FOR YOURSELF. That is just pathetic, really. I hope you honestly realise what your doing here, because its seriously stupid.

kys nigga my bitch loves the cocaine nigga gucci gang nigga iwill fuck your bith tongiht nigga, drose out nigga fag nigga

I am very disappointed that there is not 100 of the story idea selection

I’m glad to see Joe’s book, Let’s Write a Short Story! is still availalbe and going strong! I purchased it as soon as it was published, still refer to it quite regularly to remind myself of some important but often over-looked elements of short story. Although my work has been published a number of times, we’re never too experienced to learn and to be reminded of what makes for a great story.

A short story idea: When I was very young, one of my best friends learned she had been adopted. We all know that people really can and do say some incredibly stupid things to children. Because my mother had very blond hair and blue eyes and both my hair and eyes are dark brown, strangers often said to me,”And just whose little girl are you?” I began to wonder whether I, too, was adopted and my parents simply weren’t telling me. What if, as an adult who never questioned your origins, you learned you had been adopted. Conversely, because I myself DO have an adopted child, what if you were told you were adopted but in fact, learned you were not. Write a short story!

here’s my story

Uncle joe was talking to his 5 year old nephew jane about how he’s getting old and how she’s going to have to start doing all the chores in the house joe is a little challenged in his life because he was bullied and doesn’t know how to control his anger. he gets in an argument with jane and Joe felt anger go through his mind his temper over flows and he got so mad he started hitting her. 2 years later she was still helping around as Jane’s face would turn red and she would start throwing tempers and joe would hit her. Over the years her fachel expiration started to change form because of all the hitting. Joe heard a scream of dying devastating noise outside and went to go see what it was he lifted up a bucket and under it was the phone book. Since he had anger issues he decided to call the evil scientist and ask him to fix bullying once and for all after he went to the evil scientist house something went wrong he came back as the demon he unlocked his nephew’s room there she was. she was crying.Jane slowly turned around she was mad crazy. He ordered her to clean the dishes. Since she was so mad crazy she didn’t listen to him and she smacked him across the face the Demons face turned red he felt like someone pierced him with a needle he got so mad that he trapped her in the mirror. She was screaming for help but it just circulated around in the mirror as she was she was trapped there another duplicate appeared it was a boy. He said his name was michael. He was 7 years old the evil demon erased the kids memories and put them in a microchip. Then he put him on the streets. Someone had found him and brought him home and He had been with his new parents for years.He was great at figuring anything out a after a while he found out about his uncle Joe. Since he was so good at researching things he even found directions to his uncle’s house so he decided to go on an adventure to find his uncle joe/the Demon once he found uncle Joe he wasn’t at all happy.

Joe hit Michael and he fell to the ground and fainted .when he was just slightly awake he found a microchip it said Michael’s memories michael picked it up Joe was coming towards him with a knife

Michael woke up right away and put the microchip to his chest if he dies Jane will vanish for ever Joe stabbed Michael in the chest.luckily the microchip blocked the knife from stabbing him and the microchip went into his chest it felt like a rainbow bursting through his skin the light went into his eyes and he got his memories back. He knew everything he knew that his clone was abused and everything he was ready to sacrifice himself for his clone so he ran inside the house and did bloody jane spinning around in circles and said bloody jane bloody jane bloody jane.

He trapped himself in the mirror and Bloody Jane was back Jane through her self out of the house and went to Joe in and punched him on the floor and they had a sword fight and Joe died and bloody Jane turned into the evil bloody demon.

(I like to write with comic characters (Peter Parker, ect.) so here we go… Based on the scars short story idea)

“Where did these come from?” I flinched and hurried to cover my back and arms up. “They’re old… They don’t hurt anymore…” I frowned, remembering the pain from each one of the marks that stained my skin forever. “That’s not what I asked…” I flinched as he slid the thin jacket off my shoulders to get a better look at them. I didn’t meet his eyes as he traced over them. Long and thin lines from knives. Round ones from cigars or cigarettes. Jagged ones from glass. The giant one that curled from just below my neck, all the way around my body before stopping at my right hip. I remembered the pain from each one, the cause of each one, the people who caused each and every one of them… “Pete, It’s a really long story…” We had been dating for about a month and I didn’t want to scare him away with my sob story. “I want to know.” His voice was soft as he had me sit on the bed facing him. I looked at him for a while, trying to sort my thoughts out. We had been friends since we were six, but I had hidden everything from him. He had no clue, and I wish he still wouldn’t… I took a deep breath and began to tell the story. “I’ve kept this from everyone… Please let me tell the whole story before you ask questions or leave me. I wouldn’t blame you if you did…” “Go ahead, I’ll let you finish. But I promise, I won’t leave you.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll see… It began when I was six. My parents weren’t the best as you know… They weren’t home much. Mom went out drinking until she was hammered, Dad went out on “business” calls. He would leave almost every night, coming home with perfume on him. Mom didn’t want to believe it. She was in denial, believed that he still loved her as he did in the past… She would come home smashed and would start sobbing. I tried to help as much as I could, but I didn’t know much. I would let her hug me, and would do my best to comfort her. I learned fast that I needed to take care of her. She would wake up with a hangover and the best I could do was give her one of my favorite juice pouches and a cookie. She would start crying again and tell me that I was such a good girl. Remember when I missed school for a week?” “Yeah, the teacher said you were really sick.” “Dad and mom got into a fight. They were screaming at each other, I didn’t know what to do… I ran away from home, I went to my cousin’s house. I got to stay there the week even though he called mom. When I got home, Dad was gone and mom was passed out on the couch surrounded by empty cans of alcohol. Dad never came back after that, and mom got increasingly depressed. I didn’t know what was happening, Dad wouldn’t come home, mom was sad, I learned how to do things for myself quick because I had to support myself and mom. When I turned seven the nice elderly woman from next door began to teach me how to cook, and clean. I would make her little crafts to sell in her shop as a “payment” for the lessons. Mom barely noticed I was gone for an hour afterschool. She tried to be there for me, she would ask me how my day was, and would constantly give me hugs. I thought life was going good, that everything would be okay. Then when I was eight, everything went downhill…” He squeezed my hand slightly. “Dad came back to the house. He… He said nasty things to mom. I didn’t understand that well back then but as I grew older I understood what he said to her. He.. broke her… She wouldn’t talk anymore, refused to eat, refused to drink… After I came home from the sleepover at your house, I saw her… She, She was hanging from the ceiling, tears running down her face.” Pete looked horrified, pulling me into a hug as I continued. “The elderly woman heard my scream, and rushed over to see me staring at my mother screaming and sobbing. She called the cops, quickly getting her to the ground, checking her pulse. I was taken to the woman’s home, the police announced her dead and found a letter…” “I knew she passed but didn’t know what happened exactly…” Pete’s voice was quiet. “Dad got custody over me. He didn’t like the fact that I looked like mom. He… He did things. He let his ‘friends’ do things. I was nine at the time, and he sold me to his ‘friend’ for the night. Gave him 10 bucks to have his way with me. I tried to fight back but…” Pete looked livid. “I felt sick, the bad thing is that I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb, emotionally and physically. You and the others were the only ones that made me feel something… It continued until I was twelve, I had tried to fight but it was pointless. One day, Dad had enough of it. He slapped me, kicked me, cut me, burned me… He let his ‘friends’ have their way with me. The reason I began to miss more and more school was because of him. I got lucky sometimes and was able to sneak out and see you. He would add a new mark to the collection each time. Then when I was fifteen, he got drunk. He.. Had his way with me, then threatened to kill me if I said anything. Aunt May was the one to notice, the one day I came over she saw a glimpse of them… I confided in her, I didn’t want you to know because you would look at me differently. Or give up on me and that would have killed me… Dad found out when May called the cops on him. He was not happy, the longest scar was his attempt to kill me. The police did a search, and the court plead him guilty. I was in the hospital that month I missed school… My cousin got custody of me, then the accident happened, and I got my abilities. That’s pretty much it… I guess you’ll be leaving then?” I lowered my head, waiting for the rejection. “I told you. I’ll never leave you. I love you too much to do that. I’m glad you told me…” He pulled me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. “Really?” I teared up a bit. “Really.” He held me as I cried. I really felt loved for once in my life… All I know is that it felt good to get that off my chest. “I don’t care about the marks. Because these scars make you look even more beautiful to me.”

( I have no idea if I did this right and I’m quite sure I might have made few mistakes but it’s worth a try)

Sometimes there are instances when you can see your own life flashing before your eyes and it gets you thinking ” Is this where I want to be? Is this the place I still want to be in another 5 years?”

I had a minor problem, a fault perhaps. I was surely and indefinitely addicted to Alcohol. Don’t get me wrong it was not that type of addiction where one would kill for a bottle of beer or something far more stronger that leaves that burning sensation down your throat and a sting behind your eyelids. It was a addiction where when I didn’t know what to do-how to react- specifically, I turned to my new found companion. It didn’t shout back at me, didn’t call me names, didn’t say that I was a worthless mistake.

Infact it welcomed me with open arms and I embraced the feeling of not caring. Sure it was a great weight off my shoulders just to forget everything for a moment and just…… be. But then I’d wake up regretting every single thing I did the night before. Trust me that plus having a blasting headache ? not the best hangover tonic.

Now here I am in front of my car trying to think yet failing since I can’t even think straight to even start thinking about thinking.

That’s when I feel it. something poking at the back of my head. A shadow looming behind me.

”Leave the keys on the ground and turn away without a second glance and you won’t get hurt.” His vice was rough and he reeked of old garbage and dried up voldka.

There I see it again. All The time I’ve spent wasting away drinking without actually doing what my 21 year old self was supposed to be doing.

I took my parents money for granted and had the time of my life. A Audi sports car, expensive designer clothes, latest IPhone, all the girls I could ever imagine. And yet I felt hollow. An empty nutshell disguised as a perfect fruit.

This is the moment I change that. This is the moment the fight back. I’m not going to whole away anymore. I won’t be that worthless mistake any more. I am Rane Alexander after all and I won’t let a label define me. I’m going to get past this hazy fog and I’ll see the horizon again.

So I turned back and grabbed the man by his arm and sling him over hard sending the gun skidding across the dim lit parking lot.

” Not today” I breathed.

Nice…well done. I thought the ending was empowering…

Standing Still

I would like to tell you a story about a girl. There was nothing special about her at all-she was simply a girl. Every day she lived in pain. She lived in her shared room feeling so alone. Everything was white: the walls, the beds, the furniture. There was no creativity in the room, no evidence of the girl’s individuality-no posters, no color, nothing. Although, she did have one orange throw pillow that she didn’t want nor like. She hated the bland, bland room. Until she was forced to live in this room she saw white as a symbol of purity, harmony, and peace. Now she saw white as a toxic color, something that wasn’t even really a color at all, something that was devoid of emotion. Every day the girl took a shower in an attempt to wash away her skin that had been tainted by the room, but that simple act of cleansing soon became tiresome and it eventually stopped working. The girl felt dirty, impure, and alone. She was afraid-so afraid. She was afraid of being alone in her shared room in a shared house of seven people. She was afraid of not being heard, of not being able to speak. She didn’t know how she felt and she didn’t know how to express it. One day, the girl stepped into her shower, and stared at the white walls and the white floors and the white curtain and the whiteness of it all and she felt numb. She felt as if the blandness of her room and of her life had finally driven her emotionless. She stood there, feeling every singular drop of water sting her skin as if she was on fire and she felt nothing. Nothing-the absence of anything-shouldn’t feel as if the world was being torn apart around her, it shouldn’t feel as though everyone and everything were pitted against her, and yet this is the way the girl felt. She forgot that she was in the shower, where she was supposed to feel refreshed and cleansed, and she forgot herself. She leaned her head against the shower wall she wondered why the walls looked as if they were in so much pain. It was as if the very walls around her were feeling just as she felt. She stood and she thought. She wondered how long she would be able to stand there, with her head resting on a cold, hard surface. She stood in the shower too long, she stood there until the hot water turned cold and even past that. She stood there until she felt as though the pain building up inside her couldn’t take it any longer. And then, she moved. She placed one hand against the tile wall and she pushed, testing her strength-the wall remained still. She thought about how meaningless her life was and how she couldn’t possibly do anything important or memorable and she felt selfish. She felt selfish for wanting to be important. She felt as though all of her thoughts were not her own and that society had simply conditioned her to think them and she felt nothing. She felt trapped. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, no friends to run to, nothing. She felt alone. Her worst fear was unfolding as she began to panic. She thrashed in the shower as she desperately gasped for air, feeling nothing. Maybe she should stop gasping for air, maybe she should just give up. But no, she had to keep fighting. She turned and she turned the dreaded water off and it stopped. Just like that, it stopped, and she felt nothing yet again. She stood there, water dripping down her body, and she thought. She thought about how many mistakes she made and how many lies she’d told. She regretted everything. She wanted to stop feeling. She wanted to undo all of her wrongdoings and she wished she could fix the people she’d broken. She wished so desperately to fix herself. She stopped, she told herself to snap out of it and she felt nothing. She turned and she pulled back the bland, white curtain. She slowly took a step and then another. She stood right outside the shower and let herself feel the cold, rigid air on her skin because feeling something was better than nothing, right? She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself to shield her small, fragile body from the cold. She stood there outside of the shower, and she felt vulnerable. She felt neglected. She felt as if nobody cared at all. She truly thought that she had no one. She sat down on the cold tile bathroom floor and she felt defeated. She felt as if she could no longer go one. She stared at the water dripping from the faucet and she thought about how easy it would be to corrupt these white walls with her own blood just as they had tainted her with pain and sorrow and misery. She sat for what felt like hours and she thought. She realized that she couldn’t do what she so desperately wanted to do because she was just too afraid. She thought about spilling her own blood, just to leave at least a little bit of herself in that lonely room that would never truly be hers. She came so close-oh so close-to giving up, but then she remembered. She remembered a person and how that person made her feel. She remembered a smile like no other. She remembered arms that held her so tight and close that she actually felt safe. She remembered a face, a gorgeous face, that lit up the moment its eyes layed on her. She remembered feeling loved, so she stood up, turned to the door, walked into the white room, and the girl lived on to see another day, another sunrise, and another beautiful moment.

And I have a secret-that girl, that terrible terrible girl, is me.

I have a blog and have uploaded 190 articles and short stories averaging 1000-1400 words. 70% were political. My writing is purely a hobby although I did send one story to a publisher and they wrote that they liked it but being an unknown author I would be required to contribute £2,500 towards the cost of publishing this children’s picture book which was 800 words long. Is this normal?.

So far I have had 43,000 hits worldwide on my blog I am now writing fiction for girls aged between 12-17 and children’s picture books..

I have a blog and have uploaded 190 articles and short stories averaging 1000-1400 words. 70% were political. My writing is purely a hobby although I did send one story to a publisher and they wrote that they liked it but being an unknown author I would be required to contribute £2,500 towards the cost of publishing this children’s picture book which was 800 words long.

IS THIS NORMAL?.

Is this normal ?

I will get up off the chair and head for the PC, I will type two lines. At this stage they are nothing but the release of vague reflections triggered by my imagination. I may not use them but they have to escape the clutter and disarray of my thoughts and be planted like a seedling. Those two lines on a blank screen when germinated can blossom into an article, a story or a book; the blank computer screen is not unlike the painter’s blank palette waiting for the first glimmer of his/her artistry. A line of text can do the same, although it need not even be a line of text, one word can suffice.

The first line read “It was the evening of the annual Concert and Dance at……….. ” I turned the Pee Cee off and I went to bed. The next day the story took root and blossomed… ….

I will get up off the chair and head for the PC, I will type two lines. At this stage they are nothing but the release of vague reflections triggered by my imagination. I may not use them but they have to escape the clutter and disarray of my thoughts and be planted like a seedling.

Those two lines on a blank screen when germinated can blossom into an article, a story or a book; the blank computer screen is not unlike the painter’s blank palette waiting for the first glimmer of his/her artistry. A line of text can do the same, although it need not even be a line of text, one word can suffice.

The first line read “It was the evening of the annual Concert and Dance at the Denham College” I turned the Pee Cee off and I went to bed. The next day the story took root and blossomed… ….

Those two lines on a blank screen when germinated can blossom into an article, a story or a book; the blank computer screen is not unlike the painter’s blank palette waiting for the first glimmer of his/her artistry. A line of text can do the same, although it need not even be a line of text, one word can suffice. The first line read “It was the evening of the annual Concert and Dance at the Denham College.

I turned the Pee Cee off and I went to bed. The next day the story took root and blossomed… ….

Here a poem…

Roses are red Violets are blue I love you Do you love me?

Times I sit and think of you In hope as you think of me Your smile just makes me melt As I know my makes you melt.

I know you think I’m silly But you love me for it.

I hope this puts a smile on your face As it does my as I wrote it.

The sky is blue, the grass is green and the sun is warm just like my heart that beats for you. You make me smile more then the beautiful flowers that bloom under the warmth of spring and you put a sparkle in my eyes more then the stars shine in the night sky. You light my path better then a full moon in a clear night sky.

You are beautiful and I love you too.

It lights up my heart to see the words I write to you. I never thought I would ever meet someone like you. I have told you things happen for a reason and so they do. I want spend every waking moment to show you how I feel. My heart belongs to the moat amazing woman I know. Baby, that is you. I know here lately I’ve been hard to love but I promise things will get better. You are my rock and sanitary you keep me going when I think I can’t. I love u with all my heart, mind, body and soul. You’re my FOREVER. Just one more thing to say.

Don’t give up on me because I will make all your dreams come true in one way or another. I will love you until I take my last breath. Just keep on loving me for I know I am you’re Forever Love…..

That is the biggest poem I’ve ever seen

Merp, I like this

Beware: Bad language. These are two dispicible people being told honestly.

————-

Stew bent down and grabbed the dead man’s feet. “Because they’re faggots, that’s why. Why you care?”

Phil bent over and grabbed the dead man’s shoulders. “I just don’t think we should generalize people like that. That’s all.”

“One. Two. Three. Up.” They lifted the dead man off the pavement and shuffled over to the trunk of their Volkswagen. “I don’t give a fuck what you don’t think, they’re still dick-suckers. On three again. One. Two. Three.” They tossed the man into the trunk. Stew grabbed the dead man’s legs and contorted them in such a way that his fat ass fit inside, then he tossed a sheet over the body and slammed the trunk shut. “Queers, Phil. God ain’t got no love for a man sucking off another man.”

Phil was wiping his hands with a kerchief. When he was done he stuffed it back in his back pocket. The left one. “Maybe God doesn’t care, neither? Maybe we’re the ones, as a society, making a bigger deal out of it than it really is.”

Stew licked his thumb and rubbed it on his left tail light, smearing a dot of blood and making it worse. “Gimme’ a rag, would ya’?” Phil fetched a rag out of the backseat of the VW and tossed it to Stew. He spit on the rag and then wiped the taillight raw. “It’s in the fuckin’ bible, man. God said a man and a woman, not a man and a man. Now, don’t get me wrong, I got no problem with women dating women. I mean, come on, it’s sexy as hell. But two guys wagging their weiner’s in each other’s faces? Fucking gross.”

Phil stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it, closing his eyes and inhaling. He opened his eyes and exhaled. A kid on a bike rode by, tossing a newspaper wrapped in a blue bag on the edge of the driveway. Phil watched the boy as he pedaled away, dumping papers on every driveway down the street. “Maybe the bible does say that,” he said, turning back to Stew. “Why’s it our business, though? Long as they keep it between them, how’s it hurting you?”

“It’s the principle of the motherfuckin’ thing,” Stew said, tossing the rag to Phil.

Phil sidestepped out of the way and let the rag fall to the ground. “Fuck off, dude. I don’t want his fucking blood on my new suit.”

“Well at least put it in the trash.” Stew wiped his hands down his pants, at which Phil cringed, then walked over and opened the driver side door. “We gotta meet Don in half an hour and we’re runnin’ late. Let’s go.”

“Stop for a taco?” Phil asked, bending over and grabbing the rag between two fingers.

“Sure. I’m starving.”

I Tried This is what i have so far…:

Isra Sonnet liked the quiet. Which was why she wished she were back home with her parents back in California, her cousin Eric was snoring very loud on the top bunk of the beds. She tried to block out the noise, but he seemed to be getting louder, and louder with each snort. Having enough of this, Isra grabbed her pillow and climbed up with it.

Holding steady onto the ledge of the bed, she smacked him with it. Hard.

Waking up with a start Eric looked at Isra annoyed.

“What is wrong with you? I was trying to sleep!” He flings the pillow on by his face,to the floor.

“You’re loud enough to wake the dead. Stop snoring like an old man.”

“If you’re so mad about it go sleep somewhere else…” Eric says drifting back to sleep, too tired to argue.

Sighing Isra climbed back down to her bunk bed. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Eric would start snoring again. Gathering her pillow from the floor and the blanket from her bed, she walked out of the room closing the door behind her.

Now, it was quite dark in the house. Though, Isra knew her way around the house from memory. She was careful to go down the stairs, and not to make too much noise to wake Eric’s parents.

In the living room Isra made herself comfortable on one of the couches. Placing her pillow down and wrapping herself in the warmth of her blanket comforted her. She sighed in relief. Now she could finally sleep.

I really like it. It’s very detailed in my opinion. I’ve read a book like that called… “Wish”. I want to publish all six of my books when I get older. I’M ONLY NINE so maybe when i’m in my 20’s

dont worry about your age. you can be just as good as any other writer. i am only twelve and i am almost finished writing my book that i am hoping to publish. go for your dreams, dont let your age stop you.

I’m 16 and have published my first book, best experience of my life, I am very close to publishing my 2nd book and sooo excited! Don’t worry about your age, the younger the better I say! You go girl and good luck with your writing career. You are a very gifted young lady! Xx

If you want to publish your books, why not now? There isn’t a law against young authors. I’m not much older than you, but my book is being published this year. All you need is the money to publish–that’s the REAL hard part for a younger writer.

Hey, don’t worry, I’m eleven and I deeply enjoy writing, and I’m looking to get a book published very soon. There’s no law forbading youngsters from getting books published… In fact, becoming a young author is one of the VERY BEST things you could do to benefit you in the future.

Yea I’m 11 and I’m gonna start writing stories on an app called Wattpad

It’s a great way to get feed back and to start sharing your stories.

The temperature was searing. Tara squinted her eyes as wavy lines of heat danced in the distance. Michael shuffled out of the taxi behind her and bent to drop 30 pesos in the driver’s expectant hand. “Why did we have to come all the way to Acapulco just to get our teeth cleaned?” Tara whined like a child dreading the dentist. “We’re not just getting our teeth cleaned”, Michael explained, “I need 4 crowns, you could use some fillings, and dental work is so much cheaper in Mexico. Plus, it’ll be like a vacation as soon as we’re finished. I have 3 days of the most romantic stuff planned for us, just wait.” Tara smiled at the thought of what Michael’s idea of “romantic stuff” could be. It was 9:15 am Thursday, if all went to plan, they would be partying on the beach Friday night. The shop they had been dropped off in front of was a modest, stucco covered building with one dark window bearing a small sign that read “Dentista”. They were 45 minutes early for their appointments but hopefully that meant they would be done sooner. 30 minutes and 16 pages of paperwork later, they were ushered down a brightly lit corridor to a room containing an x-ray machine. Once finished there, they were led to adjoining rooms. Each contained nothing more than a large, green dental chair, procedure light, and metal rolling cart filled with shiny, sharp instruments. “The dentist will be right in,” said the plump assistant in a thick Mexican accent. Since the office saw so many tourists, the staff all spoke in English, and this reassured Tara that it wasn’t so bad after all. She was looking up at a poster of an aquarium filled with fish that was taped to the ceiling when the dentist strode in. He was tall, about 6 feet, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a brilliantly white smile. While peering at her x-ray films, he rattled off a list of work that she needed, and she agreed, not really understanding just wanting to get it over with. The plump assistant appeared and placed a mask over Tara’s nose and mouth as she crooned, “To make you comfortable!” The last thing she noticed before she lost consciousness was the poodle print scrubs the assistant was wearing. Tara woke up being shaken by Michael. “Come on let’s go, I’ve been finished for an hour.” She groggily sat up and placed her hand to her warm, swollen cheek. The assistant was back, handing Michael prescriptions for pain killers and giving him instructions not to eat for 2 hours. They stepped outside into the bright sun and began walking slowly towards the nearest intersection where they could hail a cab. After a short taxi ride they arrived at Hotel Catedral, a quaint, boutique inn on the outskirts of the city. The room was cramped, but clean, and after a quick shower, they both laid down and quickly fell asleep. The next 2 days were spent drinking, lounging on the beach, and making love. Tara awoke late Sunday morning and started packing. While she would miss relaxing on the beach, she couldn’t wait to get back home to her apartment. Her stomach had been bothering her on and off throughout the trip and she thought it may have been the water she was drinking. They took a taxi to the airport and the trip home was uneventful except for a few severe stomach pains Tara had on the flight. She took a few more pain pills and they eased up enough for her to take a nap. They barely had time to walk through the door when Tara felt a sudden urge and bolted to the bathroom. “Are you okay?” Michael called from the hall. “Fine, just gimme a minute!” Tara snapped, and Michael went in to the living room and laid down on the couch. When Tara had finished in the bathroom, she stood up and saw something strange in the toilet. It looked like what appeared to be several small balloons floating in the water. “What the…” Tara stared confused, and called for Michael to come into the bathroom. He popped his head in the door and looked at her questioningly. She pointed to the toilet and he shook his head as if to say, “I’m not going in there.” Tara walked to the sink and grabbed a pair of tweezers sitting near the mirror. When she reached towards the toilet, Michael yelped, “What are you doing?!” “Shush, hold on!” she said. She pulled back the tweezers and pinched in the end was one of the balloons. She carried it to the sink and quickly rinsed it off. Michael came closer and said, “That came out of you?” ‘Yeah, gimme something to cut it open.” He produced his pocket knife and she proceeded to make a small slice down the center of the balloon. A white powdery substance spilled from the cut. “Oh my god, it looks like drugs! Tara exclaimed. “How did this get inside me? It must have been the dentist! I told you we shouldn’t have went down there for dental work! What are we gonna do?” “Maybe we should go to the emergency room and get checked out? Michael suggested. “Ok but we should just say our stomachs are hurting and not say anything about the drugs. We don’t want them thinking it’s ours and taking us to jail.” After spending 4 hours in the ER, a CAT scan and bloodwork, the couple was assured that they were in perfect health and probably ate something bad. They headed home, relieved there were no more foreign objects in their bodies but worried about what to do about the dentist. “He can’t get away with this, said Tara excitedly, he probably does this to tourists all the time!” “But if we call the police and tell them our story, they might think we’re involved somehow,” said Michael. They arrived back at their small Austin apartment and decided to eat some dinner and think the matter over some more without rushing to alert the police. After all they were safe at home and had no plans on leaving the country any time soon. Maybe they could just put this whole thing behind them like a bad dream. A crazy story to tell the grandkids. Once the dishes for dinner had been washed and Tara was settling down on the sofa next to Michael, a knock sounded at the door. “Who could that be? “Michael asked. He got up, slowly walked to the door, and peeped through the eyehole. On the other side of the door were 3 well-dressed Latino men. The one standing closest to door was dressed in black pants and jacket with a tucked-in turquoise shirt. He spoke first. “We know you’re in there and you have something that belongs to our boss.”

I wrote two stories so far Murderous Twins (Mystery) and Pregnant at 18 (Drama n Romance) total words for both 27000

THANK YOU FOR THIS. I LOVE TO WRITE AND I NEEDED INSPIRATION!!!

My First Story.. I woke up late that morning, too excited to sleep at first and then I don’t remember when I dozed off to sleep early morning. Bright sunlight hit my half open eyes and I jumped off from the bed. It was 8:00 am already.

“Mama … why didn’t you wake me up? Has he left already?” Mother smiled “Its Sunday! Didn’t felt like waking you up from deep sleep you were in, besides you must have been dreaming, there was beautiful smile on your face. And don’t worry Papa won’t go without you.”

I was super relived and ran to hall, where my dad was ready, waiting for me. “We are going to City, right?” He simply nodded and smiled “Now get ready else we will miss the bus”

I ran to bathroom for shower and within seconds was out and in front of mirror combing my hairs. “Dry them properly, your hairs are wet, you’ll catch cold”

But here I was holding my dad’s hand and pulling him out of the door. We took bus from the bus stop and were on our way to City.

Finally the day had arrived when I was going to get my first Bicycle. It all started when my dad promised to get me Bicycle if I score good marks in final exam next year. All my friends had their own bicycle. Even my juniors had their own.

I patiently waited for one year to get my dream bike.

On the result day I was very nervous. When there was announcement that I stood first in 5th C, I jumped up in air and almost snatched my report card from our class Teachers hands.

I was telling everybody on my way back that I was going to get bicycle, since I stood first in class. After reaching home I told mom about the result and she was very happy. Then dad came back from work in the evening, he was very happy to hear about my results and patted on my back.

“So you are going to get me Bicycle” I said with glimmer in my eyes. “Let’s see” he simply said taking off his shoes

I was almost broken in tears to hear those words. He had not said no but neither did he say yes. I broke down “this is not fair, you promised”.

Next day, mom broke the news to me that finally I am going to get my Bike this Sunday.

Squeezing sound of halting break of bus brought me back to present. “We have reached, Lets go” said dad.

We reached the Big Bicycle store in Gol market. There were so many bikes, I just couldn’t take my eyes off. I picked the one with Marron color. Salesman explained the features to me. I looked at dad expectantly, he nodded and I hugged him.

Dad went in to meet the shop manager, I waited outside to see my bike being assembled by the worker. I saw dad having conversation with the shop owner. I don’t know what was wrong but dad came out.

“Let’s go now we will come next week, and take this Bike home” dad said with his fingers in my hairs. I couldn’t believe my ears. After waiting for almost a year I am getting my bike and now he is saying to wait for one more week.

I threw his hand away in disgust and ran away to hug my bike and started crying. Dad tried to convince me that He had assumed the Price of Bicycle to be lot less. And now he doesn’t have enough cash to buy this bike.

But I refused to budge down. I was so much carried away by anger, I couldn’t see the nervous face of my father. It must have been really awkward for him to face this situation.

“Okay. Let me see what can be done!” he went in. I waited outside partly sobbing and partly smiling.

Few moments later dad came out smiling. I knew he had bought the bike and we were going to be taking it home today. This was happiest day of my life.

It took me few years to understand that my dad had sold his ring that day to fulfill my wish!

This is what I’ve got so far:

Capt. Lee asked for interrogation volunteers. The Interrogation Rooms were full and there weren’t enough interrogators. Lt. Jones volunteered. She told him thee was a suspect in Interrogation room D. Should be easy — a straight-up homicide. Just tape the confession.

Entering IR D, he saw an inconspicuous middle-aged man. Inconspicuous? Maybe 100 years ago.

Lt. Jones introduced himself and sat down. He sat down and said he was there to get the man’s side of the story. Then he turned on the recorder. The man looked at him with amusement. “Do you really want my confession” he asked. Jones said he needed the man’s name and address first. “All right. I am Daniel Alan James, address 132321 Atlantic Avenue, Plot D3.”

Jones looked up sharply. “That’s a cemetery. Your real address please.” I get the nuts, he thought.

“I am not ‘pulling your leg’ as you so quaintly think. That is my address.”

“As to my confession. In 1869 in Palm Beach, I burgled May Palmer’s house I got a sackful of jewelry. I also hacked off her head. Sternly he looked at Jones. “You kept that back. He acted like that fact should have been publusged,, like he wanted credit for it.

“In 1920, in Miami Beach, I attended a speakeasy. I abducted a somewhat plump girl, Cynthia Handel, and eventually disposed her of in the Dismal Swamp.” Chuckling, he continued. You could say the alligators had a fine meal that night.

In 1936, Cleveland, Ohio. I presume you’ve heard of the Torso Murders there? The Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run? It was never solved. Poor Eliot Ness — he wanted so badly to be Mayor of Cleveland and not just Safety Director. That case would have given him the Mayor’s office. I denied him that.””I

Above the gables of the orphanage roof, a tremulous, gentle sound began to keen. It began quietly, as oh so fragile a thing. I held my breath where I had awakened in my bed to keep from drowning it out- the sound of a human singing through a violin.

I knew exactly who it was that sang. She had come in just that day, eyes wide, mouth closed, and a violin case clutched to her chest like it was the only thing she had left in the world. I was older than her and so in a different dormitory, but still the sound found its way, sorrowfully, lovingly, through the still night air.

The sound of it made me want to cry, as it stirred in me a pain I’d long ago learned to shove away, the origin of which was the only thing that me and the little virtuoso child shared. It unfurled itself deep within me, reaching out for the sound as it grew, grew louder and more powerful as the beginning upset turned to something more violent, something filled with righteous indignation at what had happened to her… to… to me. Tears welled up in my eyes and I curled into my pillow as I fought the onslaught of emotions. The anger, the injustice, the harrowing *grief*. It all slashed and dove and resonated through the air- through my soul. I curled around the reopened wound, feeling the unreleased cry of pain inside of me. But the tears still fell. They were like rain.

Suddenly the vibrancy in the tone fell flat. The last ringing note was undulating through the air, twisting with fading passion, as a quieter, stiller strain took its place. Dispirited and exhausted, the muted notes struggled to find me, and I imagined them getting lost. It was both a relief and a loss as I felt the raw emotions drain away. It felt… hollow. It was like how I usually felt only much, much worse, the sheer weight of it making it a pain all its own, although it signified the absence of it. It was a rock I couldn’t push off my chest, or a vacuum inside of me. It *hurt*.

Still, my eyes dried as I listened to the dispassionate, lilting notes. They bumped into each other with pattern but no passion. The lack of colour in it compared to everything else the little violin girl had played almost made me want to cry again- for her this time, instead of me. I wanted to comfort her. To tell her that she could find a family here again… even if it wasn’t the same.

But then- then something magical happened. I heard something in a note shift. Just ever so slightly, regaining some of its lost fullness. My heart jumped against my rib cage at it, like a baby bird too eager to be out of the nest. The sound broadened and deepened, spinning and growing to an unimaginable size and intensity, filled with such thought and memory as one can only know inside themselves. I couldn’t imagine that something of such monumental size was coming from such a tiny person and her instrument- no, her partner. Her friend. It had to be her friend to join her in all this.

The graceful creature grew and grew on when I thought it could grow more. Time had lost all meaning to me as it tapered and streamlined itself into something lighter- losing its weight and despair- but not its memory. That stayed. I could feel it within me, too- the warmth that was spreading through the song. It touched at my fingers and toes, the tip of my nose, and the center of my belly. I let out a breath as the weight- the vacuum, whatever it was- released, no longer afraid of it or drowning out the soaring melody that cozied into the corners of the resting place of me and so many others that had experienced what this other child was experiencing right now.

But I knew, as the music carried on through the night, a peaceful balance between love and light and sorrow, that she was going to be just fine. We were all going to be just fine.

This inspired me so i tried it came up with this so far

Things have been difficult lately. Even breathing seems to take a lot of effort. But grief often shuts people down. And everything seems to blur out. You must be wondering what broke me? Nothing just the same old heartbreak that broke souls in every time period.

That night I made my way Aden’s house. We had been dating for almost four years. He had asked me to marry him a week ago and I had to ask my parents if they accepted they’re daughter to get married at 21. To my surprise my parents had said yes and I was on my way to blow Aden’s mind with the amazing news. I rang his doorbell several times even though I knew where they key to the door was kept but manners were still important. After fifteen minutes of standing out the door my mind started exploding with thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking about. Aden’s car was still parked in the garage which meant that he was still home. I rushed to get the keys from under a plant pot and opened the door. Aden’s house was a mess but Aden was a clean freak. I made my way to Aden’s room and gently opened the door to see my whole world crashing in front of me.

Aden lay in bed with another women pressed to his side as they slept. No words, no tears just an apology. Just two words “ I’m sorry “ and I ran down the stairs, across the street and away from the person I had given my everything.

You see every person leaves a mark behind. But Aden , Aden left behind the deepest scars.

(please don’t judge, I’m only 12. And btw I’m a girl. I’m using my dad’s account)

It’s dark. My own shadows drown me. This is nothing new to me though, I’m not shocked or scared. Just lonely. Nothing to look forward to I’ll thing myself sitting and think, hoping. I don’t know how long this lasts, seconds, minutes, hours. I can’t sense the time passing, I don’t fully understand it. I don’t know how I got here or when I’ll leave. My life feels like it has no meaning. But yet, somehow I feel like I’m waiting for something, this longing for something to happen. But at this moment in time…I’m not really sure. I must have had more than this life, I must have lived in something different, color, happiness, friends, family….love…maybe, or is that me dreaming?

Have I lost my mind completely now. Maybe I’m not even here, In this darkness. Am I just mad? Why am I even asking…I’ll never get an answer. Sitting here hoping dreaming will do me no good! I must fight back. I’m not sure what I’m fighting for but if I do have a motive to fight then it must be worth it. Without thinking I lunge into the dark clouds. Fighting, not with any weapons but just by my longing for whatever is outside this lonely cage. The chains of my fear and uncertainty tug at my arms pulling me back but using all my force I shake them off and continue forward through the endless darkness…This place must end. There must be an ending for me, more than this dark realm. I jump forward, ready to scream as I hit the floor but I don’t have to. I didn’t fall…Am I..floating?

No, I don’t feel like I’m standing. I feel something on my hand but I can’t see what it is or even move to shake it off. Then I suddenly realize. The thought that I’ll no longer be lonely, this thing I feel, it’s a person. These thoughts, my feelings they allow me to take control. I slowly open my eyes. It all shoots my at once colour…light! I’m lying down on a bed, a hospital bed. My memories come soaring back. I look over to my right hand and see the lady holding it, in shock, but smiling brightly. It’s my mother! And in what seems like the longest time ever…I smile.

Clark stood at the window and watch as the first snow started to fall. He thought back to when he was a little boy and how he loved to go outside and play in the snow. The snowmen him and his sister would build, the snowball fights him and his friends would have. Then his smile changed to a sad face. He remember the last first snow fall that happen when he was a kid. That was the last time he was happy about seeing the snow. Clark’s father Ernest was at the local convenience store, when two mask men came in to rob the place. One of the robbers told Ernest to give him his wallet. He did but a long noise from the back of the store in scared the robber that he jumped and the gun he had pointed at Clark’s father went off and shot him in the chest.

Clark was home in the bed, but he jumped up out of his sleep, he felt that something was wrong. He got out the bed and went looking for his mother. When he got to the end of the hall he saw his mother at the door talking to some police. She turned when she heard the floor Creek. ” Clark honey, what are you doing up”? His mother asked with blood soaking red eyes . ” mother is everything alright? ” with every step he took closer to his mother he knew that what ever reason the police was at his house it wasn’t good. Every since that Dreadful night Clark, the night his dad was killed, he has hated the snow. It always seems to remind him of that night. It’s like all the good times he had in the snow was replace by the death of his dad, his hero, the man he wanted to grow up and be. They never did find the guys that robbed that convenience store.

Conceited Conflict

Simon did not die…

The inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee had been enough to persuade him to walk straight into the little beach-side shack without as much as a second thought. He had made a mental note to thank Danny–his colleague and friend–for suggesting the place for a quick getaway.

People close to Simon knew that he savored these small pleasures of life: a peaceful evening relaxing at the beach, the blushing horizon as the sun set for the day, the scents of the tropical sea, the areca nut trees swaying to the music of the breeze, the waves at the shallow end lightly caressing his feet, the warm texture of the sand slipping away beneath his toes, children running around flying colorful kites… cocoa-rich dark chocolates, and fresh coffee.

And why not? After all, he thought, what was life without these? Nothing but a stressful grind, it was. To fight the distressing official battles day in and day out. To struggle to defeat the unethical schemes of the back-stabbing lot who lurked among colleagues and friends. To come back home to the nagging demands of a materialistic spouse. All that did nothing good for the soul.

It was late evening when Simon had walked toward the shack. When he got closer, he had noticed two men standing engulfed by the dark shadows behind the shack. Although he could not discern their features, and they were speaking only in whispers, their body language had betrayed the fact that they had been exchanging an agitated conversation.

As Simon was about to enter the shack, one of the men thrust a wad of money into the other’s hand. The other man briefly regarded the bundle before stuffing it into his trouser pocket.

A drug deal, likely–Simon had thought–or some other such shady business. How could these people come to such spectacular and peaceful places and engage in such disreputable and squalid acts? What a disgusting lot!

He had shaken his head to clear his thoughts, and inhaled deeply as he entered the shack. Freshly brewed coffee! He had smiled as he sat at a small, round, plastic table in a corner. All other concerns would have to wait for half an hour, at least.

Outside, unknown to Simon, the deal had been concluded. The men had followed up by exchanging a small vial of some sort. Then one of them had raised the hood of his jacket over his head and walked away swiftly without turning back, with his hands in his pockets. The other man had vanished into the darker shadows behind the shack.

The next afternoon…

Although–when it concerned professional life–Danny lacked severely in the department of moral and ethical values, he was regarded in their circles as a gem when it concerned friendship. He had rushed to the hospital at once when Simon’s wife had called. Dysentery–she had told him, repeating the doctor’s diagnosis–perhaps acute food poisoning. Very severe symptoms. Quite unbearable. Must have been something he ate yesterday.

Danny had stayed on at the hospital with Simon’s wife to lend her moral and emotional support. He wanted to make sure–he had said–that she got all the help she needed; he wanted to make sure that Simon recovered all right.

The third evening…

Simon rested motionless on a bed at St Sebastian Hospital. Motionless. Still. He wasn’t even breathing. He was finally free of all suffering.

Epilogue 1…

Normally, convincing a chemist and obtaining the required substance might have been the biggest challenge. On this occasion, however, a well-maintained friendship with a pharmaceutical assistant had proved quite rewarding.

The rest was simple to plan and execute. Simple did not mean without risk, but in this case the desired reward would be sufficient compensation for the risk.

The dosage would be just right. The doctor would have only the patient’s symptoms to go on, which would be easily mistaken for those of common diseases such as food poisoning or dysentery.

It would all be over even before anyone suspected foul play. Even if other signs did manifest afterwards, there was no incriminating evidence.

Epilogue 2…

Simon had felt the first signs of fatigue when he was almost half way back home from his getaway spot. He had believed that the nausea was caused by travel-sickness. Later that night his condition had become worse, and next morning he had tried home remedies for diarrhea. By afternoon, he had started discharging blood, and had to be hospitalized immediately.

Danny had stood by his bed in the hospital, looking in his weak eyes, holding his hand reassuringly. Behind those heavy eyelids, in those weak eyes about to close, Danny had seen a faint spark of realization. The reality of the deal he had witnessed behind the coffee shack had dawned on Simon. I wish you understood, my friend–Danny had thought–that it was nothing personal, that everything is fair in professional rivalry. In any case, it was too late now. There was no turning back.

Don’t strain yourself trying to talk–Danny had said–Just close your eyes, let go and relax.

— End —

(I’m only 12 so don’t judge me, I tried :D)

I’m alone. I’m surrounded by darkness. I’m lonely, I have no-one except silence to keep me company. I’m not sure how long I’ve been here…Minutes, hours….days? They mean nothing to me, I don’t know how time passes and why it matters. I’m too close to giving up. Surely my life must mean something. I can’t have been made to just be nothing, to exist only feeling, loneliness and fear. The fear of being forgotten, by this world, by myself. If I’m not already.

There must be meaning for me, something bugger, better. It’s all I want, all I ever dream about. A life with meaning, color, happiness…family. But that’s just a dream. That can’t be real, I have no memories out of this place why would I be suddenly be gifted such happiness. Is this it? I am going mad? Have I been here so long just lost my mind? No. That can’t be. I can’t give up, I must try….try escape this realm of darkness. I stand up, shaking slightly. No, I must be strong! I run forward, not sure where I’m going. Not sure if this place even ends.

I start hearing voices, they’re speaking to me… “stay…strong…everything’s going to be ok” I hear the voice saying. It was comforting, gentle and kind sounded. It sounds familiar….I run faster, using all of strength. I race through the darkness, wind smacking my face until I come to what looks like the edge. It was a drop, so deep I couldn’t see the bottom. Without thinking, using all my desire, the want to be somewhere with meaning and happiness I lunge forward and jump.

I…I didn’t fall. I’m alive, I think. I don’t feel like I’m standing. Wait, am I floating? No, don’t be silly. I’m…lying. I feel something touch my hand but I don’t have strength to even shake it off. I can’t see anything…Then suddenly reality hits me. I slowly open my eyes…It all hits me at once: Color, sound, people. I look over to my right hand to see who was holding it. She was crying but smiling at the same time. It was mother. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, I smiled.

“I’m borrowing one of your geese.”

Asta jumped in her seat by the fireplace, woken from her accidental nap. She whirled in her seet to see Jeppa, the slightly unhinged neighbour, filling the doorframe. He looked like any regular farmer, brown coveralls and pipe dangling from the side of his mouth, but sported a permanent wide-eyed stare that made the children (and everyone else) wary of him. Asta had half a mind to go back to sleep and let Jeppa be Jeppa, but curiousity got the best of her.

“Pardon?” She asked, slowly getting up, her arthritis crackling in her knees. “You’re borrowing what?”

“I’m borrowing one of your geese,” He repeated, unblinking. Then he turned on the spot, as if the conversation was over and done with.

“But why?” Asta exclaimed, hopping after him on stiff legs into the front yard. Three of her large, snowy geese were drowsily waddling through the hole in her white fence as Jeppa marched over and seized one of them by the neck. The other two hurried into a nearby hedgerow, abandoning their brother to fate. Jeppa stood there for a moment and admired the view over Asta’s fields, completely obvious to the furious flapping and hissing of the goose.

“What are you doing? Let go of him!” Asta cried, but Jeppa remained blissfully ignorant to the chaos he created.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Jeppa sighed happily, still unblinking. Then, remembering why he was strangling a goose, he heaved it up under one arm and took off towards his own rickety cottage a few hundred yards down the gravel road.

“Wait!” Asta cried, limping after him. When she finally caught up to him he was crawling up a worn ladder propped against his roof, hissing goose tucked into his armpit as if it was nothing more than the daily newspaper.

Finding her best old-angry-crone voice, she howled; “Jeppa! Get down this instant! What on earth are you doing with Herman?”

This seemed to reach the decision centre in Jeppa’s head, and he stopped on the topmost rung. He stared at the wobbly chimney for a moment, as if pondering its existence, before replying. “I can’t afford a chimney sweep,” he commented simply. Then, with both hands, he heaved the goose up in one fluent motion and dumped it into the chimney. The hissing and flapping increased in volume, projected into the open air by the narrow chimney, until it became unbearable to listen to. Then it stopped. The goose must have fallen into his fireplace.

Asta’s mouth fell open. She sat down on her bum like a baffled toddler.

“Are you alright there? You look like you saw a ghost!” Jeppa chuckled obliviously as he descended from the roof and moved to let the goose out of his kitchen. The moment the door opened, a great, fluffy black thing scuttled out and down the road, hisses and quacks flying about it like the soot covering it.

“That,” Asta said, her voice quivering, “was my prized competition goose, Herman.”

Jeppa finally seemed to realise the extent of his actions. Wringing his hands he inched towards the door, hoping to use it for protection when she exploded, which she was bound to do.

“Isn’t… isn’t there a competition for black geese, perhaps?” Jeppa asked, hopefully unblinking.

Most short story ideas I have are too big write in just one sitting. The first one I wrote took months. It’s why I can’t write flash fiction.

I’m trying to write Flash Fiction. I love the challenge. It’s amazing how you can cut out redundant word from each editing. Try it, Sebastian. It’s good practice.

Okay, here goes: Persephone, Persephone Akeldama. She was a beautiful girl, slender waist, flowing blonde locks, petite figure. This quiet girl was often referred to by her fellow students as the “perfect doll”, due to her stunning looks and the love she received from the teachers. In a the darker half of this world, her nickname was not much different. The flawless puppet, she was called. Flawless because of her swift assassinations, and puppet because of her emotionless features. No one in school knew her profession, and no one in the dark world knew her real age, or even what she looked like. She was a complete mystery to both sides, only this was known about her: She is a prodigy. Of course, “Prodigy” meaning different things in either sides of the world. There was a large gap between prodigy killer and prodigy student. Not many assassins are born into their jobs, Persephone being an exception. At three, she was already trained to fight, and at the early age of twelve, she was already a well known assassin. due to her quick learning, her parents payed even more attention to her, punishing her whenever her actions did not fit into the range of perfection, training her more than any twelve year old should ever have to endure. And of course, making her kill. One by one, Persephone’s emotions died, every person she killed, every order she received. She carried them out with swift and deadly accuracy, losing all her innocence. Her purity was lost long ago.

So she found nothing wrong with killing her parents.

Persephone never loved anyone, because she was a killing machine, exactly how her parents had designed her. Her mothers last words: I’m so proud. Her fathers? :I’ve trained you well. A now orphaned Persephone felt no remorse, no guilt, no grief. Only a small pang of loneliness.

And that was the last emotion she would ever feel.

Ummmm, I got the juices flowing, just need my writing to flow……in the right direction.

So I combined all 10 of the “general ideas” into one premise. I think this is more the premise of a collection now… Oh well. Here’s the premise (or the rough draft)

As a child, Kell, a painting prodigy, discovers her parents’ dead bodies, leaving her emotionally scarred. Later in life, she clings to her boyfriends for moral support, which leads to many failed relationships. Her Fiance and colleague breaks up with her because he needs to spend more time on his work, even though it crushes both of them. Kell doesn’t look when she’s walking down the street, sobbing, and she bumps into her rich soulmate, Neil. They have a whirlwind romance, which ends up with their marriage. On their honeymoon, though, Kell’s mother’s ghost confronts her and warns her to delay the journey. Kell and Neil go anyways. A hurricane strikes, and the couple is stranded with a phycopath who just so happen to be Kell’s parents’ murderer. The couple doesn’t make it out alive.

I know that’s pretty dark, especially for a 17-year-old. It’s also not that great. But hey, I hope it gave you an idea or two! Happy writing!

You should really think about turning this into a novel! You’ve got quite the imagination.

The last laugh Kate Bester

“What? Oh heavens no! When?” Faye dragged the pink sweatband back from her forehead and shook her shoulder length blonde hair off her neck. She had just returned from the gym when the house phone rang.

“…sometime last night, peacefully. She had to go sometime, Faye.” Debbie’s longsuffering voice was irritating.

Faye sighed and shifted the weight from one shapely leg to the other. She crossed one ankle over the other and stared at her Reebok trainers. She bit her tongue before she could blurt out what came into her mind – why now? She had a very special and important occasion coming up and serious shopping to do!

“Mom was nearly eighty, you know Faye, but death is always unexpected, I know,” Debbie went on. Was she imagining it or was there a touch of accusation in Debbie’s voice? Deborah, her older sister, had never married. Instead, she stayed with Mom after Dad passed on ten years ago and took charge of the rambling old house in George. Come to think of it, when Debbie gave up nursing, moving in with Mom was the natural thing to do.

Faye had to muster all the self-control that she could to sound genuine and concerned. It was Mother after all…

“When is the funeral, then? Do you want me to come and help you with the arrangements?” she kept her voice low and even in case Debbie thought she was serious about the offer to help.

“No thanks, Faye, everything is fine. Mom had everything in place as usual. It will be a cremation of course…”

Debbie’s voice trailed off and Faye could just about suppress the groan that escaped from her chest before she said goodbye to her sister. She sank down in the closest, huge, overstuffed chair after she had put down the receiver. Of course. That is Mother. Well, was she corrected herself. Nothing ordinary or conventional. A cremation no less, so that all her old hippie friends could attend in their colourful rags and long hair and chant and blow their flutes and shake their tambourines. Faye had to admit to herself that a cremation at least would be better than embalmment. Her mother was quite capable of having them roll her in the scales of the boophone bulb like the Khoisan did with their dead.

Faye groaned again. She must be in shock otherwise why wasn’t she crying. Crying? No, she’d done enough crying after the second divorce in eight years. The last one was particularly messy but this time she stuck to her guns and got the house and a stiff alimony. Not that it’s about the money, which is never enough anyway, but one has to keep up appearances. She had spent a fortune on refurbishing the gazebo next to the pool. Oh gosh yes, and she must still pay for the embroidered voile curtains around the patio. And for the plant containers and cane furniture from Bali…

Faye sighed as she levered her challenged limbs from the chair. She will have a warm shower and then make her calls. Damn! Now she will have to drive all the way to George. She smiled. Yes, she will have to. Because of Mother’s pendant. She had to have it. Must be worth a small fortune by now…

That pendant was given to her mother by a very grateful Indian businessman. Mother had met him on a plane to Mumbai all those years ago when she travelled to India to see for herself what mysteries lay behind the lotus curtain. She ended up in his luxurious home and taught the whole family to speak English while she enjoyed every facet of that exquisite culture. If memory doesn’t fail her, the pendant has a top quality eleven carat flawless ruby, enhanced by… a shiver of delight passed through Faye’s body despite the warm gush of water.

At the garage to fill up and prepare the vehicle for the trip, she remembered how bored she was on weekends as a child. They travelled endless dusty roads, slept in tents, either sweating or freezing. Her botanist parents would be off in the veld , ooohing or aaahing, clicking their tongues and cameras. Deborah would be whooping somewhere in a shallow river. In her tent, her feet against the anchor pole, Faye swore she would never live this way. She would have money and everything it could buy. These bunny-hugging weirdo’s – her family – may enjoy the outdoors but she despised the smell of citronella candles, morning coffee and tinned food. Not to mention the squatting behind a bush when nature called. Ugh!

At nine o’clock the next morning, Faye was over the Overberg Pass and heading for Caledon. She would stop for tea at the Blue Crane and buy some of her mother’s favourite dried herbs. Yes, some buchu and lavender and rosemary. She’ll keep them on her lap during the cremation service and speeches to soothe her mind. Afterwards she will let them join her mother’s body to nirvana…

It was exactly twenty past one when she saw the huge pine trees and the red brick house behind it. The garden was a botanist’s dream. Like her mother exactly – colourful, mysterious, exciting and completely unusual. Faye’s eyes followed the garden path up to the porch. Handfuls of laurel tied with raffia or beads or leather thongs garnished the pathway from the gate to the porch and around the open door’s frame where fairy lights twinkled.

She opened the car door and slid off the seat. The manicured feet in the Blahnik sandals stepped together neatly on the tarmac as she automatically pressed the remote lock. Gingerly she approached the garden path and as daintily as possible made her way to the house.

Then it hit her. This wasn’t a welcome for her. The laurel symbolized Apollo’s way to remember his Daphne! Daphne didn’t want to marry Apollo and begged her father, Perenaeus, to hide her. He promptly turned her into a laurel tree. From then on Apollo worshipped the tree, hugged it, spoke to it and let all heroes and kings wear a laurel wreath on the head as adornment. This was for Mother.

Suddenly, there was her sister. Oh heavens, clad in a flowing caftan, pearls, beads, feathers and leather thong sandals, she could’ve been Mother!

Quickly Faye went over and folded her sister in her arms. While her sister was yoga-breathing against her shoulder, she took in the room behind. She smiled to herself . Ostrich feather boas were draped over the window frames, door frames and thrown over the backs of chairs. Huge black and white photographs of ostriches in all poses adorned the walls. Ostrich eggs and paraphernalia were displayed everywhere. This was a shrine to the ostrich as Nieuw-Bethesda was to the owl…

She let go of Debbie and cleared her throat. She took a deep breath, “Debs, what are we going to do with all this stuff ?” she hoped her chicanery would go undetected. Back in her mind there was an image of Mother’s ostrich leather handbags, shoes and purses she had collected before it became export posh. Her heart went on a gallop from excitement and anticipation.

At last they were alone. They cleared away the last few cups and plates. In the kitchen, Faye poured two large tumblers of Merlot for her and her sister.

“Sis, if you’re up to it, we can go through Mom’s things and decide what to do about some of it.”

“Of course, my dear.” Faye gulped.

Then the pendant was in the palm of her hand. This was a testing moment. She wanted to hang it around her neck immediately but thought it would seem callous. She let the heavy gold chain slide sensuously through her fingers while the ruby’s red eye winked at her.

“You have it, Faye, it’s too ostentatious for me. Mom also never wore it for that reason.”

“And these, Sis.” Debbie was on all fours in front of a deep drawer. She was pulling out ostrich leather gloves in every colour, handbags, clutch bags, more boas. They lay on the Kelim carpet like offerings to a queen. Faye stared and stared. “Oh yes!” her mind sang.

After breakfast the next day, Faye took her leave of Debbie who promised to visit as soon as everything was tied up and settled. When she was passing Mossel Bay, she started to relax and fingered the pendant at her throat. A warm glow filled her and she stretched to see it again in the rear mirror. It was an exquisite piece! She still felt surprised at how nonchalant Debbie was.

She decided to stop for refreshments outside Swellendam. She enjoyed stretching her legs in the shade of the old trees and watching the goats, chickens and ostriches they kept there for entertainment. She parked in the shade of a huge oak tree and went to the restaurant. She carried her fruit juice over to the enclosure on the lawn. A billy goat came towards her. Behind him a young ostrich craned its neck. A sheep, two lambs and a kid trotted up. Faye leaned forward.

She shrieked, jumped back and feverishly fumbling at her throat, she saw it

Ostriches also like jewellery.

I have not written a very long piece. It a quite short story. So…here it is…

Sydney woke up with a start, as beads of sweat adorned her furrowed brows. Next to her was her twin sister, Tanya, sleeping peaceful as Sydney had been a couple of moments before. She looked around as if searching for something or someone. Sydney almost dismissed the episode and went back to sleep when she heard it again, this time, even evident. The sound that had woken her up from her slumber. The sound that made her shiver and was even vexing than the sound of nails on chalkboard.

And then, it stopped. She looked around her for the source of what she heard. She decided to get some fresh air and walked out of the room she shared with her twin.

As she walked to the porch, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong but she knew something was. She leaned in to get a closer look at her reflection when something hit her head and she fainted. When she regained her consciousness, she looked around her. She was in the porch and it was dawn. She went back into her house when she glanced at the mirror again. She could see her mother, her sister and her father. They all looked around as if searching for someone. What she couldn’t understand was why she couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror. Then, realization struck her like a ton of bricks. She was in the other side. Of the mirror.

Then the ending credits rolled in. Though it was just a trailer, it was well shot. Everyone couldn’t wait to see the full movie. We congratulated our friend, Mills, who had shot the film and went to hang out at her place.

Wonderful ideas. Thanks for inspiration.

*I’ve been wanting to write for a long time but never really got the push until right now. Sorry if it’s bad, it’s my first short and I’m 14* “One, two, three. Perfect, now I can go…” I quietly say to myself. I have something called Pure-O. Some people think that it’s worse than “normal OCD”. The others think that it’s completely unreal and it’s made up. What people don’t know about me is that I have Pure-O and it’s completely real and my life revolves around it. I make sure that people don’t find out about it because I am considered “ popular and high-status” where I live. “ Happy, good thoughts. Nothing bad.” I think to myself. “They won’t find out….hopefully. I am Claire Williams who has the best makeup and the straightest hair. Not the Crazy Williams girl that broke down in front of everyone because her presentation wasn’t how she planned it.” I think. Then the flashbacks swoop in and fill my brain. “Hi my name is Claire Williams and I am doing my presentation on the Economic Downfall of 2008…” I pause and look around. I see people snicker and talking. The teacher is just looking at me and gesturing for me to continue. I get scared and forget everything that I worked so hard to memorize. “Umm. I’m sorry ma’am, I can’t finish.” I tell my Economics teacher. When I try to move and collect everything, I can’t move. “No no no no no this can’t be happening. I can’t be having a panic attack at school.” I think to myself. I feel tears well up into my eyes. They slowly fall down my face and I taste the warm salty fluid. I suddenly tense up and can’t breath. Because no one knows about my condition, no one can help me. “Look! Williams is going crazy! Crazy Williams.” I hear people snicker from the back and the attack gets worse. I hear something new in my flashback…. It sounds almost as a ringing. I realize the bell is ringing for the students to get to class. I come back to reality and hope for the best on my first day of Senior year. I mean after all, it’s just school. Nothing bad could happen right?

PEN-082a 694w Anne Frank, Bella and Me by Helen Kudatsky

At nine, I bought my mom, Bella, a birthday gift on June 12th, a magenta lipstick for 19c. I was so proud. First present I ever purchased. She made me return it; It was too extravagant, and besides, she said, “every day is my birthday.” I cried. I knew her secret though. although a proper Jewish woman, sometimes she longed to be a gypsy.

Now, 60 years later, I’m reading “The Diary of a Young Girl” by Anne Frank, here in the home where I live. Though nursed, I’m often blue that I can’t dance or paint anymore. But I love to read and write, and my friend, Julie, the librarian, kindly brought me Anne’s book, which I am now devouring.

Anne was an eloquent writer, describing her schoolmates and boyfriends. She began the diary at 13, disclosing her first period, having a special secret and becoming a woman. I too began to menstruate at 13, pondering the mystery. It’s horrid to imagine eight people in 1944, crammed into the Secret Annexe, handling eating, sleeping, hygiene and trying to stay alive, while whispering and tiptoeing to avoid discovery by the Gestapo.

To maintain normalcy, the adults set up a plan. The children continued their studies: Dutch, French, English, history, geography and art. Although Anne liked most subjects, she found algebra notably loathsome. I’m in that club too.

Her people have become my friends and family: Anne Frank herself, Edith, her Mummy, Otto, her beloved father, Margot, her sister, and the others hiding with them: the VanDaans, their son, Peter who was first, her friend, then later, her crush and confidant, Dr. Albert Dussel, the dentist and Moortjie, the cat. Four of Otto’s devoted employees provided food, supplies and world news, which kept them alive and boosted their morale.

After the war, Miep, a helper, found Anne’s diary in the demolished remains and rubble of the annexe. She gave it to Otto, the sole survivor of the group. He was stunned by Anne’s maturity and the breadth of her feelings. The Diary has been published in 67 languages, portrayed on stage and screen, and is considered one of the most moving accounts of the Holocaust.

For those of us beholding atrocity, Anne Frank is a beacon: humorous, inquisitive, forgiving, cheerful. Sometimes moody, though, she was nicknamed “the incurable chatterbox.” as she’d quarrel with others in the Secret Annexe they occupied for their 25 months in hiding.

My mom, Bella, shared a birthday with Anne Frank, June 12th, but didn’t know of it until years after Anne’s death. Bella lived to be 95. She loved reading as much as Anne did, and she wrote poetry and stories, but didn‘t start until middle-age. Anne, 15, died in March 1945, just two weeks before the war’s end, when she would have been liberated. In two years of hiding, Anne was devoted to writing in the diary, at times prosaic, sometimes distraught, frequently terrifying, but often funny, spiritual and uplifting.

If the war had only ended sooner, I imagine the writing that Anne could have produced and I envision Bella meeting her. Bella, born in 1913, Anne in 1929, 16 years her junior, they could have been aunt and niece; I see them sharing a Shabbat dinner, singing a Hanukah song; I picture them speaking one of their languages. They believed in the same things. Finally, I dream of them proudly sharing their writings, a mystery, a story of love and longing, a poem, and of course, on June 12th, their mutual birthday.

I dream of them walking hand in hand, pale wrinkled fingers holding a smooth teenaged palm. They come to a table set before them, on it matzoh brei with applesauce, a plate of potato latkes with sour cream. There are apples and honey, wine and rugalech. Bella and Anne eat heartily and shout for joy, no longer whispering or tiptoeing, no longer afraid to be Jewish women writers, no longer afraid at all.

PEN-082a-Anne Frank, Bella and Me.wps by Helen Kudatsky w:09/03/17 ei 09/19/17 694 wds 08 mn 99 Park St.#104 Brookline,MA 02446 C-617-939-3387 e-m: [email protected]

My story plot is of the fantasy/adventure type.

In the fictional town of Surron, Colorado (which is surrounded by high mountainsides from every angle, a tragedy occurs on September 5, 1963. Six-year old Robert “Bert” Aruson witnesses his drunken, abusive father murder his mother with a broken beer bottle. Advancing on him, the father sleeps on another discarded bottle and trips, impaling himself on the bottle with which he killed his wife. Robert runs off into the forest to escape his father to look of help, unaware of his father’s death. With his parents living far back into the woods, he ends becoming lost and spending the night in the forest. A mother bear, Dewa, with two cubs of her own, the boy Gemape and girl Biha, discover the young boy and adopt him into their family, christening him with the new name Nuun. Ten years later in 1973, Nuun has led a happy existence with his loving and supportive new family, having even made new friends like the crow Hai and the mouse Naeene. He even prevented unnecessary violence between his family and a wolf pack led by Dande and Gupa. Any hunters that come into the forest have their weapons stolen and permanently disposed of in the night by Nuun. By this time, Nuun and his actions have become something of an urban legend in Surron. Back in that town, the mayor Aaron Burdon (who resides upon a hill overlooking the town) runs the town, though he views it with contempt due to one incident. His younger brother, Reagan, was beaten by thugs hoping to steal money off of his rich person, leaving him with brain damage. Despite this, the townspeople started treating him and his brother differently afterwards, cruelly even. This has caused his hatred to ferment over the years until he comes up with a plan to destroy the town’s population with explosives at the upcoming July 4 picnic. His wealth and power make the workers unable to resist him, as they will become jobless should he imprisoned. “Nuun” comes across one of Burdon’s worksites and almost steals workers lunchbox, but is chased away. News soon spreads through the town and Nuun finds his happy life in danger of being shattered once again unless he can have assistance from friends both human and animal.

Nikita This is the story of me, Nikita, an orphaned girl, who didn’t know anything about her family. I was kept in the orphanage with a bunch of other girls. Ms.Keeper, the owner of the orphanage doesn’t tell anyone anything about themselves or their family. I didn’t know anything about myself, but everyone knew that in Ms.Keepers room there was a filing cabinet with documents of the real stories of our lives. Nobody ever dared to go in there though. Ms.Keeper looked like she was somewhere in the 30’s, she had grey hair, bags under her brown eyes, a slim body and a huge pimple on her long nose. She was not married. I have brown hair, brown eyes, freckles and a healthy, slim body.

I always thought of running away. I felt like I was in that orphanage forever. I remember growing up in there since I was a child and now that I’m 17 years old, I’m still here, hoping to find my family. But that, I thought was too unrealistic. I was sitting in an orphanage, hoping to find my family. No, I wanted to DO something to find my family. The only thing that held me back was Ms.Keeper and the thought that I really had no family. Ms.Keeper was always afraid of one of the girls running away, that’s why she made some workers put a stronger fence around the orphanage property. Ms.Keeper was also afraid of talking to the government. I thought so because the government will shut down her orphanage. One time, I overheard Ms.Keeper talking on the phone to the government and they said that it was illegal to not show the orphans their identity and who they are, but Ms.Keeper ignored them and kept talking about something else. Also, at 18 years old, you are free to leave the orphanage and become independent. I just turned 17. No one else was my age except another girl, aged 14 and all the rest were smaller than her. There was once a girl named Gabby who was the only person who was older than me. Just last year, she turned 18 and was supposed to go. On her birthday, Ms.Keeper made an announcement at the last moment that Gabby was leaving right now and is right by the door. Every girl ran out to give her hugs and goodbyes. Ms.Keeper didn’t even move. She didn’t even say bye. It was so cruel of her. We didn’t have a birthday cake with Gabby because Ms.Keeper threw her out the door on her birthday!

Everyday, Ms.Keeper lets us go outside for one hour, three times a day. We ate mostly sandwiches and drank water and sometimes juice. We also had some snacks, which were mostly fruits. We did school during the day too but this wasn’t real school. Ms.Keeper taught us everything. Ms.Keeper also bought us a TV, which was in the dining room. We mostly had everything we needed, except a family.

One day, when Ms.Keeper let us go outside, I was lying on the grass by myself at the farthest point from the orphanage. Then all of a sudden I heard someone coming. I looked up but saw no one. When I turned around, I saw a boy, looked like he was 15. He had brown hair, blue eyes and was tall. He said “hi” to me and I said “hi” back. We talked to each other for awhile until Ms.Keeper called us in. I really hoped that Ms.Keeper didn’t see me talk to that boy because she would punish me.

For the next three days, I talked to that boy over the fence every recess. He told me about his life and it really surprised me. He said he had a house as big as the whole orphanage (the orphanage is as big as a hotel). He said he had his mom and dad living with him, that he has money, any kind of drink, and lots of junk food. He played video games everyday and watched TV and also he quit school. His mom and dad don’t care about what he does as long as he’s home by midnight! When he told me this, I started thinking, is every life out there like his? What is everyone’s else’s life like? I couldn’t sleep that night or any other night after that day.

Soon, we became friends and he asked if the orphanage was boring. I didn’t even know what to say because it was alright living in the orphanage but compared to his life, it was nothing. I didn’t say anything and he asked if I wanted to run away to his house. I, of course, was surprised and didn’t say anything for awhile but then I said I would think about it. Ms.Keeper called us inside, and I don’t know why but she never caught me talking to him. Ms.Keeper usually stands by the door of the orphanage, looking into the field of how we are playing. I was farthest away from her so maybe she doesn’t see so well.

After those days, I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking of running away. But how was I supposed to run away? If I got caught, I would be punished and I would have to be a slave to everyone, washing dishes, sweeping, and cleaning. Besides, I couldn’t run away because we all slept in rooms with four people to each room. Our room was the farthest away from the exit. I would have to tip-toe (at night?!?) through the whole orphanage just to get to the exit. No, I couldn’t do it. I was too scared. But that boy kept assuring me that everything will be okay.

I talked it over with the boy and I decided to run away with him at night, at 11pm because he had to be home by 12pm. By 8pm, all the girls in the orphanage would be sleeping, but Ms.Keeper stays up till 10pm, listening to classical music in her favourite rocking chair. As not to wake Ms.Keeper, the boy suggested that he would come to my window at night and I would climb over. Our room was on the lowest level – level one- so it was the closest to the ground. It was supposed to happen in two days from then. I was very nervous and scared, and I kept looking at Ms.Keeper if she had any suspicions, but it didn’t look like it.

It was the day of the run. I packed all my stuff, which wasn’t really much. I put all my clothes in my pockets (it fit perfectly). I was wide awake that night, listening till Ms.Keeper turned off her classical music and went to bed. It was perfectly silent. You could hear every single breath of the girls. My tummy had a trillion butterflies in it and I couldn’t stop my heavy breathing. At 11pm, there was a quiet knock at my window and I knocked back. That was our signal for letting each other know we were ready. I then looked at everyone in the room. They were sound asleep. I opened the window and it’s super squeaky. I waited a moment to see if anyone woke up, but no one moved. I climbed over the window to the boy. I closed the window with a loud squeak and started running with the boy to wherever my feet let me go. It was a dark night and only the half-lit moon was our source of light. The boy led me through streets and streets of houses until we came to a huge house. It was so pretty. It looked like the orphanage but it had no spiderwebs. It was clean and super nice. It looked like they were rich to have all those diamond stuff on the door.

They boy opened the door and the light hurt my eyes. It was so bright in there, so big. The stairs were curved, like I only saw in fairy tales, and there was his mom standing in the doorway. She first smiled, but when she saw me, she made a confused face and came closer. I was so scared. What would his mom do? Did he tell his mom about me? My brain threw me a thousand questions to answer of which I didn’t know the answers for. The lady came closer and asked the boy slowly who I was. He told his mom that I was a friend from the orphanage. His mom got angry, her face started to turn red and she started to talk louder. She started saying that I’m filthy and that she doesn’t want to see me ever again and to get out off this house. I looked at the boy. He started to cry. I tear went down his cheek. He begged his mom to let her stay for the night but his mom didn’t budge. The boy’s mom shut the door on me and I was outside in the cold.

All of this was for nothing. This meet we had. All the recesses we talked, all the nights I didn’t sleep, and I couldn’t go back to the orphanage now. I was alone. I didn’t even know where to go. I got off the boys lawn and I sat down on the sidewalk, crying and I realized I didn’t even know what the boy’s name was! Suddenly, I heard a door open. I looked back to see if it was the boy’s mom. No, it wasn’t. I looked around and saw that the boy’s neighbor has opened the door and was calling me. The person at the door was a grandma. She told me to come in. I stood up and came inside. She told me that she heard the neighbors talking loudly so she went to see what the commotion was about. She asked me if I wanted to eat but I refused. She sent me to bed, not knowing anything about me. She was so kind to me. She sent me upstairs where I had my own room. I fell asleep very fast, and I slept till lunch the next day. I forgot all about the orphanage and went downstairs to meet my hero. She was making breakfast for me. We sat down at the table and she told me her name ( Grandma Laura ) and I told her all about my life. Every single thing. When I came to the part about the orphanage, her eyes widened.

Grandma Laura told me that many many years ago, she was the owner of the orphanage! The government fired her because they thought she wasn’t suitable for the job. When she went away, she made photocopies of the documents of the girls and kept them because the girls were so precious to her that she couldn’t just leave them. Grandma Laura stood up and went upstairs to go get them. When she came back down, she had a whole ton of documents! She found one by the name of Nikita.

That morning changed my life. She let me read my own document. It figures out that my real mom died while having me. My dad was still alive. My dad’s name was Walter Eggons. The grandma’s eyes widened when I told her the name of my dad. She told me that that was her husband! So Grandma Laura was my mom? She didn’t die? But Grandma told me the whole story. My dad, Walter, first married a lady named Agnes, and they had a baby named Nikita ( that was me) and during childbirth, Agnes died, but I lived. Later, my dad could no longer care after me so he dropped me off at the orphanage when I was 1 year’s old. For my dad, that was a hard decision. He had to work but he couldn’t leave me at home and there was no one to look after me. After my dad’s wife died, he married Laura. Laura was sitting in front of me, tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. She then told me the saddest news- my dad died of cancer a couple months ago. I started choking back sobs, and then tears. Grandma Laura was the only family I had. She was my stepmother.

It has been seven years since that happened and right now I am sitting with tears in my eyes, telling you this. I live with my stepmom and my husband, Jeffrey. Turns out that after that day, I lived with my stepmom for a couple months but then the boy’s mom found out that I was still in this neighborhood. The boy was so happy to hear that, and he told me his name- Jeffrey Jones. We soon joined our friendship together and a couple months later, we were married. Also,he wasn’t 15 years old, like I thought, he was 17.

-Written by Nikita Eggons-Jones

I hope you like this so far tell me what to improve on.

Gunnvor is the daugter of a powerful samurai but that is only thing that they have in common. Her father is a ruthless man who fights for war, on the other hand Gunnvor fights for humanity, no one can see her true colors because they want to believe she wants bloodshed as well like her father. She hates their thoughts, imprisoned in her fathers hand, the only way to escape, is for some one, like her, to save her in the outside.

As she swoon her sword with grace she sliced the broom like heads off. Her father and mother were observing her progress as a warrior, when she was do she went to her parents and bowed. She left leaving them behind a cold chill settled on them, the mother knew why the father ignored. Gunnvor loved to walk in the town down below her house, all the people were Good-hearted and kind in every way. She sometimes is jealous of the children for having such free lives. But she does not listen to her selfish conscience, she walked across the flower bridge as a gentle men suddenly bumped into her. “Oh sorry about that I didn’t see you,” Gunnvor quickly got up embarrassed for fall. She looked up and saw man that was strong but kind, she then noticed that he didn’t recognized him, he look like he was from another country. She then suddenly pulled her sword pointed it near his neck. the man was taken aback, he looked shocked and then said ” Yes did I say some thing offensive.”

“your not from here are you,” She moved a little closer, her sword started to dig into skin. “Yea I’m just traveling, I came from the neighboring kingdom, I thought they were in good terms…..right?” He backed away a little from the sword cutting his neck. Gunnvor then lowered her sword slowly, The man rubbed his neck just to find that it is bleeding “by the way what is your name,” she sheathed her sword in it’s case. “My name is gunnvor,” He quickly whipped his head to her “What the, Gunnvor, the daugter of the samurai.”

“Yes.” she turned and started to walk away and stop slightly turned her head ” And you,”

“Uh my name is Cota.” he said then Gunnvor walked away, when she arrived at home she swept past her father to her bed room. That night she could not stop thinking of Cota, she thought how strange he was dressed and the way he looked. The next how ever her father again trained gunnvor, the train this time was diffrent, he was pushing her to far.

Many days have past and Gunnvor noticed that Cota was spotted many times near her house. Then when she training with her father which was basically torture, Cota came up to her father ” You will stop hurting her,” He said slowly and manically. However he was not moved “My wife has convinced you to protect her,”

“No I came In my own accord.” The father then spun and grabbed his sword and pointed to cota. “Well then can fight me,”

“We”l see,” cota grabbed his sword and the two fought, they fought for a few hours and the father was vanquished. Cota then went to Gunnvor and asked her hand in marriage.

Nikita This is the story of me, Nikita, an orphaned girl, who didn’t know anything about her family. I was kept in the orphanage with a bunch of other girls. Ms.Keeper, the owner of the orphanage doesn’t tell anyone anything about themselves or their family. I didn’t know anything about myself, but everyone knew that in Ms.Keepers room there was a filing cabinet with documents of the real stories of our lives. Nobody ever dared to go in there though. Ms.Keeper looked like she was somewhere in the 30’s, she had grey hair, bags under her brown eyes, a slim body and a huge pimple on her long nose. She was not married. I have brown hair, brown eyes, freckles and a healthy, slim body. I always thought of running away. I felt like I was in that orphanage forever. I remember growing up in there since I was a child and now that I’m 17 years old, I’m still here, hoping to find my family. But that, I thought was too unrealistic. I was sitting in an orphanage, hoping to find my family. No, I wanted to DO something to find my family. The only thing that held me back was Ms.Keeper and the thought that I really had no family. Ms.Keeper was always afraid of one of the girls running away, that’s why she made some workers put a stronger fence around the orphanage property. Ms.Keeper was also afraid of talking to the government. I thought so because the government will shut down her orphanage. One time, I overheard Ms.Keeper talking on the phone to the government and they said that it was illegal to not show the orphans their identity and who they are, but Ms.Keeper ignored them and kept talking about something else. Also, at 18 years old, you are free to leave the orphanage and become independent. I just turned 17. No one else was my age except another girl, aged 14 and all the rest were smaller than her. There was once a girl named Gabby who was the only person who was older than me. Just last year, she turned 18 and was supposed to go. On her birthday, Ms.Keeper made an announcement at the last moment that Gabby was leaving right now and is right by the door. Every girl ran out to give her hugs and goodbyes. Ms.Keeper didn’t even move. She didn’t even say bye. It was so cruel of her. We didn’t have a birthday cake with Gabby because Ms.Keeper threw her out the door on her birthday! Everyday, Ms.Keeper lets us go outside for one hour, three times a day. We ate mostly sandwiches and drank water and sometimes juice. We also had some snacks, which were mostly fruits. We did school during the day too but this wasn’t real school. Ms.Keeper taught us everything. Ms.Keeper also bought us a TV, which was in the dining room. We mostly had everything we needed, except a family. One day, when Ms.Keeper let us go outside, I was lying on the grass by myself at the farthest point from the orphanage. Then all of a sudden I heard someone coming. I looked up but saw no one. When I turned around, I saw a boy, looked like he was 15. He had brown hair, blue eyes and was tall. He said “hi” to me and I said “hi” back. We talked to each other for awhile until Ms.Keeper called us in. I really hoped that Ms.Keeper didn’t see me talk to that boy because she would punish me. For the next three days, I talked to that boy over the fence every recess. He told me about his life and it really surprised me. He said he had a house as big as the whole orphanage (the orphanage is as big as a hotel). He said he had his mom and dad living with him, that he has money, any kind of drink, and lots of junk food. He played video games everyday and watched TV and also he quit school. His mom and dad don’t care about what he does as long as he’s home by midnight! When he told me this, I started thinking, is every life out there like his? What is everyone’s else’s life like? I couldn’t sleep that night or any other night after that day. Soon, we became friends and he asked if the orphanage was boring. I didn’t even know what to say because it was alright living in the orphanage but compared to his life, it was nothing. I didn’t say anything and he asked if I wanted to run away to his house. I, of course, was surprised and didn’t say anything for awhile but then I said I would think about it. Ms.Keeper called us inside, and I don’t know why but she never caught me talking to him. Ms.Keeper usually stands by the door of the orphanage, looking into the field of how we are playing. I was farthest away from her so maybe she doesn’t see so well. After those days, I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking of running away. But how was I supposed to run away? If I got caught, I would be punished and I would have to be a slave to everyone, washing dishes, sweeping, and cleaning. Besides, I couldn’t run away because we all slept in rooms with four people to each room. Our room was the farthest away from the exit. I would have to tip-toe (at night?!?) through the whole orphanage just to get to the exit. No, I couldn’t do it. I was too scared. But that boy kept assuring me that everything will be okay. I talked it over with the boy and I decided to run away with him at night, at 11pm because he had to be home by 12pm. By 8pm, all the girls in the orphanage would be sleeping, but Ms.Keeper stays up till 10pm, listening to classical music in her favourite rocking chair. As not to wake Ms.Keeper, the boy suggested that he would come to my window at night and I would climb over. Our room was on the lowest level – level one- so it was the closest to the ground. It was supposed to happen in two days from then. I was very nervous and scared, and I kept looking at Ms.Keeper if she had any suspicions, but it didn’t look like it. It was the day of the run. I packed all my stuff, which wasn’t really much. I put all my clothes in my pockets (it fit perfectly). I was wide awake that night, listening till Ms.Keeper turned off her classical music and went to bed. It was perfectly silent. You could hear every single breath of the girls. My tummy had a trillion butterflies in it and I couldn’t stop my heavy breathing. At 11pm, there was a quiet knock at my window and I knocked back. That was our signal for letting each other know we were ready. I then looked at everyone in the room. They were sound asleep. I opened the window and it’s super squeaky. I waited a moment to see if anyone woke up, but no one moved. I climbed over the window to the boy. I closed the window with a loud squeak and started running with the boy to wherever my feet let me go. It was a dark night and only the half-lit moon was our source of light. The boy led me through streets and streets of houses until we came to a huge house. It was so pretty. It looked like the orphanage but it had no spiderwebs. It was clean and super nice. It looked like they were rich to have all those diamond stuff on the door. They boy opened the door and the light hurt my eyes. It was so bright in there, so big. The stairs were curved, like I only saw in fairy tales, and there was his mom standing in the doorway. She first smiled, but when she saw me, she made a confused face and came closer. I was so scared. What would his mom do? Did he tell his mom about me? My brain threw me a thousand questions to answer of which I didn’t know the answers for. The lady came closer and asked the boy slowly who I was. He told his mom that I was a friend from the orphanage. His mom got angry, her face started to turn red and she started to talk louder. She started saying that I’m filthy and that she doesn’t want to see me ever again and to get out off this house. I looked at the boy. He started to cry. I tear went down his cheek. He begged his mom to let her stay for the night but his mom didn’t budge. The boy’s mom shut the door on me and I was outside in the cold. All of this was for nothing. This meet we had. All the recesses we talked, all the nights I didn’t sleep, and I couldn’t go back to the orphanage now. I was alone. I didn’t even know where to go. I got off the boys lawn and I sat down on the sidewalk, crying and I realized I didn’t even know what the boy’s name was! Suddenly, I heard a door open. I looked back to see if it was the boy’s mom. No, it wasn’t. I looked around and saw that the boy’s neighbor has opened the door and was calling me. The person at the door was a grandma. She told me to come in. I stood up and came inside. She told me that she heard the neighbors talking loudly so she went to see what the commotion was about. She asked me if I wanted to eat but I refused. She sent me to bed, not knowing anything about me. She was so kind to me. She sent me upstairs where I had my own room. I fell asleep very fast, and I slept till lunch the next day. I forgot all about the orphanage and went downstairs to meet my hero. She was making breakfast for me. We sat down at the table and she told me her name ( Grandma Laura ) and I told her all about my life. Every single thing. When I came to the part about the orphanage, her eyes widened. Grandma Laura told me that many many years ago, she was the owner of the orphanage! The government fired her because they thought she wasn’t suitable for the job. When she went away, she made photocopies of the documents of the girls and kept them because the girls were so precious to her that she couldn’t just leave them. Grandma Laura stood up and went upstairs to go get them. When she came back down, she had a whole ton of documents! She found one by the name of Nikita. That morning changed my life. She let me read my own document. It figures out that my real mom died while having me. My dad was still alive. My dad’s name was Walter Eggons. The grandma’s eyes widened when I told her the name of my dad. She told me that that was her husband! So Grandma Laura was my mom? She didn’t die? But Grandma told me the whole story. My dad, Walter, first married a lady named Agnes, and they had a baby named Nikita ( that was me) and during childbirth, Agnes died, but I lived. Later, my dad could no longer care after me so he dropped me off at the orphanage when I was 1 year’s old. For my dad, that was a hard decision. He had to work but he couldn’t leave me at home and there was no one to look after me. After my dad’s wife died, he married Laura. Laura was sitting in front of me, tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. She then told me the saddest news- my dad died of cancer a couple months ago. I started choking back sobs, and then tears. Grandma Laura was the only family I had. She was my stepmother. It has been seven years since that happened and right now I am sitting with tears in my eyes, telling you this. I live with my stepmom and my husband, Jeffrey. Turns out that after that day, I lived with my stepmom for a couple months but then the boy’s mom found out that I was still in this neighborhood. The boy was so happy to hear that, and he told me his name- Jeffrey Jones. We soon joined our friendship together and a couple months later, we were married. Also,he wasn’t 15 years old, like I thought, he was 17. -Written by Nikita Eggons-Jones

Yoyoyo its generikb here and today we are playing roller coaster tycoon

Anyone got ideas for a short story titled as Leornard’s Fatal Oversight. In need of help asap.

Ugh, this is getting do frustrating! I thought to myself as I struggled through the streets. My ankles kept twisting every time I slipped. Heels are so not comfy. I shouldn’t have worn them. As if my struggle wasn’t enough, people were pushing me as they passed me by. I was being shoved left and right amidst the bustling sidewalks of New York. Feeling fed up, I decided to lean onto a nearby store to regain my balance. What an awful idea it was. Unfortunately, I have miscalculated the distance between me and the store and I ended up leaning on thin air. I tried to right my footing before it was too late but I ended up tripping on my own feet. With a loud oomph I slammed into a passerby. Papers went flying around us as we both fell to the ground.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry.” I tried to hurriedly stand up but I ended flat on the ground again. “I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to lean on the wall to regain my balance since it’s the first time to wear heels, and oh my god, it is very hard and painful.”

The person nodded quietly and started gathering the papers. I got to my knees and tried to help. “I was supposed to be looking smart for today’s meeting, but I don’t think it’s been working out so well. I bet I look as smart as a baboon’s butt.” I heard the person chuckle but I went on with my rant, “I also bet that I am a total mess; I don’t how will I meet everyone at work this way. Oh man! They sure will give me an earful of criticism!” I didn’t realize I had been holding on to the few papers I collected while he tried to pull them from my grasp. “Oh, I am so sorry, once again,” I said still holding on to the papers while I got up, “I didn’t realize I was holding on to the documents…it’s not like I’ve read them; I’m just guessing they were documents as your suit looks neat and yeah.” I tugged gently on the lapel of the suit and finally raised my eyes to his face. My eyes probably widened as I saw him for the first time. To cut it short, he was hot! Like smoking salmon hot; or more like hot chili pepper that Indians eat hot! Now I’ll give all the details, I know you want them…I would want them if I was listening to one of my friends telling me such a story. Anyways, he stood a good foot or so taller than me. He had light brown hair styled backwards. His angular, defined jaw was covered with a five o’clock shadow. Bright hazel eyes shone with amusement as a slight smile covered his lips. “I don’t usually talk to strangers as much as I do. God! I’m coming off as talkative! I am not usually the talkative type; I seriously don’t know what is wrong with me today. And whoa, you look handsome,” my eyes widened in shock as he raised both eyebrows, “Did I say that out loud? Oh my god, I said that out loud. I didn’t mean to say that…I don’t mean you’re not handsome, because you’re one hell of a man; I just mean…Ugh! Now I’m coming off as a weird man-gazing half-crazed stalker. That is if I’m not fully crazed. I don’t think I’m making any sense…I should probably get going.” I went to turn around when I felt a tug onto something I’m holding to. With a confused look I looked to my hands and found the stack of papers. With a not so faint blush, I handed him the papers, “I’m sorry again.” I threw my hand behind my shoulder pointing in the opposite direction, “I should probably get going,” I said with a sheepish smile. I turned to leave again, but I was stopped…again. He cleared his throat, “I think you’re forgetting something.” “Um…no, I think I’m,” I turned his way to find him holding my bag. I awkwardly stepped to take it and said, “Thanks. I’ll see you around, not that I know where you are…I’ll just get going.” I took my bag and headed off in the opposite direction before I could embarrass myself any further. As I waited for the subway, I recalled what just happened and face palmed. I took the short ride to the office to compose myself. I was in for a surprise once I entered the meeting room, though. The man I bumped into was standing at the head of the table. “Good morning everyone, before starting today’s meeting, I would like to introduce you to the company’s new CEO…” Well, I wasn’t expecting this. I sat rigidly on the chair once we were told to. “Good morning everyone, I am Nathaniel and I am looking forwards to working with everyone on this team,” he said with a smile on his face. “Mr. Nathaniel, I would like you to meet our best employee, Ms. Felicity Brown.”My boss pointed my way and I wish he hadn’t. Nathaniel’s eyes found mine. They were filled with amusement. Oh this was going to be a long day.

And this, kids, is how I met your father.

A great (and family friendly) writing site is http://www.storybird.com

I might write a story about a girl who was born a princess but all her family died on a ship except her aunt and cousin…she gets taken to an orphanage and everyone else thinks she died too and she gets adopted a few Years later she goes to school and everyone is talking about her…one days she finds out that… oh u want to know well I’ll probs write a story about it on wattpad so u can look for it, it will be called…A princess???

Four new members have a look at couch on top of Crestwood center ship

high school graduation sports activitiestrail Softballand therefore Swimmingbeach ball Tennismales adolescent girls info Field HS HS WrestlingCollege Pro Submit ScoresSubmit

WRIGHT TWP. In all perhaps had to be the most significant reorganization matching presented among Luzerne regional 11 institutions zones, Crestwood school panel swore located in four sign ups compared to the ne member, repairing incumbents which are either of them missing in action unique reelection tenders belonging to the primary or elected to get not to research another phase.

wayne Brogna, Stacey Haddix, Kimberly Spath and thus Lauren McCurdy got been sworn appearing in thursday night. The four bought conducted completely considering that the to produce enhancement community. really earning incumbent from a big part that do survived habitual grievance in past times two very long time came anna Hollock Bibla, which will garnered your ex first four year terms the particular snowboard. you become a member of in 2017 because of profitable an exclusive two year sitting.

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following the meeting, Brogna documented can lone even talk to gain themselves even so that he fully Costello ran into finished loads of dubious ballots the actual game board during the last two growth cycles. he explained he’s talked containing Costello together n’ your own questions that can the pup, but admitted no sign ups may possibly well most try out the us president job, if he or she. so which he wasn safe voting for Costello.

barry Boone is unanimously specified as vice chairman, Maureen McGovern came chosen assistant, and after that Brogna been recently branded as treasurer.

all of the reconstituted block have their first finding for normal establishment votes arrange for Dec. 19, Five days right after the contract over curious law firms in order to post proposals on a structured feasibility study, sense my blackboard can have to be able to merit a legal contract.

Four newbies your day Crestwood their school panel accept the promise of health care office at some stage in thurs reorganization talking. right between lead are actually Stacy Haddix, Kimberly Spath, Lauren McCurdy and as a consequence randy Brogna. 17 public speaking.

while prompt wednesday authorities chairman paul Belusko should become aware of if will probably be at center arena this booked careers class a better or at site of the event thus more people beautiful vietnamese women may easily give priority to.

Belusko proclaimed she will be polling an additional four authorities musicians in email’s over the past weekend on recommendation mayor choose George light brown undertaken especially during tuesday night time seeing replace the to and time production for the.

looking to you can keep them respond back to me made by the following thursday, Belusko considered that Friday.

maybe authorities decides to transfer an appointment it provides a week in order to place and with seating rather than a unique fourth area chambers.

was regarded as thinking that it is recently doing open talking long before the performance visit someplace (home buyers and thus local authority or council) may questionthings just to associated with us transfer to the author’s your job session. which unfortunately whatever i thinking about, Belusko claims.

you will most likely plumbing service in sunday night-time show results demonstrations that when local authority or council could not vote on awaiting the law. comments together with inquires are allowed even though council monday date the general public get togethers. timetabled start.

village owner david Gazenski suggested it authorities call on which direction to start.

over council if that they move this approach to a different store, Gazenski alleged.

nearly as Belusko may reaching out to authorities, so too will white because of main receiving area for the mans professional recommendation.

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4 Writing Ideas for Creative Classrooms

How can we help our students develop writing skills? We can take the rigorous approach, teaching the writing process, academic modes, and integrated grammar. We can also use the creative approach, engaging students' imagination and artistic expression through stories and poems. Unfortunately, the demands of standards-based testing are pushing the creative approach out of many ELA classrooms. Let's not let that happen in ours. Students profit when we make time for both types of instruction, since each approach benefits the other.

The rigorous approach builds foundational skills for clear communication, skills that lead to compelling stories, poems, and plays. On the other hand, creative writing develops expressive skills that produce more robust, original thinking in academic forms of writing.

Furthermore, creative writing engages students in ways that purely academic forms often don't. When we assign creative writing activities, we demonstrate that writing isn't some big scary animal, but instead can be liberating, imaginative, and fun!

Consider using the following writing activities to get your students' creativity flowing onto paper.

Story Starters: But What Happens Next?

Have students read the following story starters. Ask them to choose their favorite and write what happens next, keeping the story going as long as they can. As an alternative, they can create a new starter and then tell the rest of the story.

• The sound coming from the sewer was unlike anything Lilly had ever heard. Whatever it was, it was getting louder and moving closer. . . .
• When Jimmy stepped outside on that bright sunny morning, the ground sank beneath him. He reached up, grasping for something— anything —when finally . . .
• What Chelsea would do that day was the bravest thing of all.
• Dequan flung his controller at the game screen. Instead of hearing a sharp crack , he heard a digital splash. Baffled, Dequan looked closer for damage and realized the black controller, now shrunken and animated, rested in the hands of a character on screen. “Want to play a game?” the character asked, moving the joystick forward. Dequan jolted toward the screen. . . .
• Four suited figures in dark shades searched menacingly for the key to the safe, not knowing the key lay hidden in my pocket.
• The egg at my feet shook and cracked open. A scaly wing unfolded from it, and then another. Before long,I was staring into the groggy eyes of a baby dragon.
• Have you ever wished you could go back in time and do something over again? Today, I got that chance.
• No one could have guess what would happen when the students took over the school. . . .

View Minilesson for Classroom Presentation

Diary of a #2 Pencil

Challenge students to write a diary entry or blog post from the perspective of an everyday object from school (pencil, paintbrush, microscope, and so on). What would the object have to say if it could “write” a diary about its daily life?

Here’s how a student might begin a diary entry from the perspective of a pencil. . . .

October 20, 2017

Dear diary,

Today, I was sharpened. This was a very big deal because I had an important job to do today. . . .

Sound Off with Onomatopoeia

English has many words that sound like what they name. For example, sizzle sounds like frying food, and buzz sounds like the beating of a bee's wings or static on an amplifier. This similarity of sound is called onomatopoeia . Present students with a list of sound words, like those in the table below:

Then have them choose their favorite sound word and list all the ways in which it could be produced in real life. Encourage students to think of as many ways as they can, no matter how wild the ideas may seem. Finally, have them organize their ideas into a list poem like the example that follows:

Splat is . . . a hippo doing a belly flop.

an egg hitting the floor.

fat rain slapping a windshield.

water landing in an empty stomach.

a cream pie in the face.

atoms colliding.

Creative Synopses

Have you ever read a brief synopsis of an upcoming movie or television episode? These short, playful previews provide their own form of entertainment. Can you guess the films these short synopses refer to?

• A young queen flees her kingdom after causing an eternal winter, but her fearless sister sets out to thaw the frigid spell.
• A gentle alien stranded on Earth befriends a young boy.
• The dark side is out for revenge on an icy planet as a villain tracks down his nemesis.
• An affable new assistant works to avoid the scorn of her fashionista boss.

(Answers: 1. Frozen ; 2. E.T .; 3. Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back ; 4. The Devil Wears Prada .)

Your students can play a similar game by creating their own short synopses of their favorite movies, books, or topics of study. Follow these steps to introduce the activity:

• Choose a topic for the synopsis. It could be a favorite movie, book, or school subject.
• Present a model, and ask students to guess what it summarizes. For example, a synopsis of a social studies topic could be A united group of colonies fights for sovereignty in a new world. (Answer: American Revolutionary War)
• Point out that the synopsis should provide a general sense of the topic without revealing too many specific details. For example, advise students to avoid proper nouns such as character names and settings.
• Provide time for students to write their synopses. If they struggle to distill their topics to one sentence, recommend that they write two or three sentences and decide what details to combine or eliminate.
• Have students exchange their synopses with partners to see if they can guess each others' descriptions, or read each response aloud and have the class guess the answer.

Additional Activities

Interested in more creative writing ideas? Check out these five fun activities , or browse a host of creativity-inspired minilessons .

Teacher Support:

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Standards Correlations:

The State Standards provide a way to evaluate your students' performance.

• 110.5.b.12.A
• LAFS.3.W.1.3
• 110.5.b.11.A
• 110.5.b.11.B.i
• 110.5.b.11.B.ii
• LAFS.3.W.2.4
• LAFS.3.W.4.10
• 110.6.b.11.B
• 110.6.b.12.A
• LAFS.4.W.1.3
• 110.6.b.11.A
• LAFS.4.W.2.4
• LAFS.4.W.4.10
• 110.7.b.12.A
• LAFS.5.W.1.3
• 110.7.b.11.A
• LAFS.5.W.2.4
• LAFS.5.W.4.10
• 110.22.b.10
• 110.22.b.11.A
• LAFS.6.W.1.3
• 110.22.b.10.A
• 110.22.b.10.B
• LAFS.6.W.2.4
• 110.22.b.11
• 110.22.b.12
• LAFS.6.W.4.10
• 110.23.b.10
• 110.23.b.11.A
• LAFS.7.W.1.3
• 110.23.b.10.A
• LAFS.7.W.2.4
• 110.23.b.11
• LAFS.7.W.4.10

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