Category Archives: creative writing

My English Essay

Remember when I posted my ‘A Little Something to Inspire’ poem? Well, here’s the actual English paper it inspired. Take note: This is how you write rubbish that receives an A+.

Life is art. To succeed at life, you need to be an artist.

You need to understand that life is beautiful. The gentle sway of the trees in the light wind. The faint patter of rain on the window. The clouds catching the fiery rays of Sun as the day fades to night.

You need to understand that life is passion. The fire in a musician’s heart. The power of a painter’s brush. The legacy of a writer’s pen.

But then, how does one become an artist?

You need to sing when you can’t hear the song. You need to chase the sun into the depths of the night. You need to smile when you want to run. You need to love when you can’t trust; it may be the best thing you’ve ever done.

You need to dance when you’ve fallen down. You need to laugh when you’re all alone. You need to hitchhike when you’ve lost your way. You need to fly when you’ve lost your wings. You need to find the sun in never-ending rain. You need to find the light in eternal darkness.

You need hope in the darkest of hours. When your friends have turned your back on you, you need to leave before you’re chained.

When you’re imprisoned by your fears, you need to let them go. Relax; what you’re fearing isn’t the worst that could happen.

Your life is now. It isn’t a dress rehearsal. You can’t change the script; there isn’t one. You need to seize life with both hands. If it kicks in the gut, brush yourself off and kick it back harder.

As the day ends and you close your eyes, don’t sleep. Dream. If it’s bad, learn to fight it and find a better one. You might find the thing you’re looking for.

And when you do, then what?

Well, your life is a story. You have to write your story to the best of your ability. Every person you meet is a new character – and you, the author, can make them however you want. Befriend them; they become the core of your happiness. Loathe them, and now they are your antagonists.

Feel free to make mistakes – only the best characters are flawed. I, myself am living proof that the errors of your past only add to the masterpiece that is life.

But sometimes happiness is only found when shared. But how do you share happiness?

Find love. Without love, the masterpiece that you as the artist has struggled so hard to perfect will be bland. Finding love will add the colour your artwork needs. Whether it’s a platonic love for your friends, or a romance with someone special; whether it’s an obsession with a tv show, or a craving for a celebrity. Your love will make your artwork a masterpiece.

An easy way to find love is through starting hobbies. I like writing, one of my friends likes blogging, another is a hockey genius, and one even likes Maths!

Make sure to share these hobbies. A musician should participate in school ensembles, and one with a more artistic temperament should join the art club. Perhaps one with a more physical persona should participate in sporting activities. Who knows? You could meet somebody worth double their weight in gold.

I have only given you an inkling on how to make your life an artistic masterpiece. There is so much more you could do to become an artist. Life is wonderful, yet repulsive. You have to find the beauty, the wonder, the excitement in a world of ugliness and disgust. You must if you want to thrive.

Life is art.

Become the artist.

And there’s my A+ English essay that is (in my humble opinion) absolute rubbish. Make sure to vote on the poll!

-The Empress

 

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A Little Story about Werewolves that needs a Title

I’m going to say this right now: I am obsessed with the supernatural. I love vampires, werewolves, mermaids, just to name a few. You should see my collection of books about fairies – one of my favourites is a book of poetry devoted to them. However, today, I’m sharing a little something on werewolves. Be warned: This won’t be the first, or the last, time you’ll hear of these characters.

The wolf stares at me. It’s a new wolf. It’s not my wolf. My wolf had emerald green eyes that glitter starkly against her immaculate white fur. This wolf is different. He’s a shadow, and the alpha. His eyes colourless holes of black, the curious glint the only thing distinguishing them from his black hair. I wait with baited breath. Is he going to attack me? The only thing I can think about is my older sister, Astrid, being dragged from her favourite spot beneath the oak tree at our edge of the woods. I was five at the time, and I had come out to tell her that I had just seen George running into the woods through the public entrance if she wanted to join him. I remember that as I arrived at her oak tree, a shadow of a wolf seemed to be dragging her through the snow, leaving a thick stream of blood. I’m not sure whether she was screaming or not – I was too far away. But she did turn her head towards me. The snow had buried her nose and mouth, and her dark yellow hair, wild and dirty from being pulled and dragged in multiple directions, covered her the rest of her face. I did see her eyes though. The bright, luminous emerald green that only a twelve year old can have. That was ten years ago. I look at the wolf before me. Is it going to drag me away too? He looks directly into my eyes. I reach tentatively into his fur. I had assumed it would be course and gritty, the fur of a survivor, of an alpha. But it was soft and fluffy. I pulled my hand back and he nuzzled my palm. He looks at me, then at the pond where my legs are swirling in the still blue water. He glares at the water, almost as though he can see something in there that I can’t. I follow his gaze, and for the briefest moment, a pale green face looks back at me, but it was gone before I could notice anything else. The wolf snarls at me before stalking off. I look back into the water, but the face isn’t there. I shake my head to clear myself of the eerie feeling. There’s something I’m missing… But what is it?

This story really needs a title. Any ideas are welcome!

Thank you in advance,

– The Empress


Watching

Today, I had a doctor’s appointment, and I was really bored, so I decided to write something. Amazing what 103 words can do.

They watch me. I know that much. They watch my every move, waiting for me to slip up, waiting for an excuse to banish me. However they’ll be waiting in vain. I’m a Good Girl now. I’m a Reformed Child. I’ve changed since then. I’ve changed since I became The Wolf. I’ve changed. Yet they watch me. It’s like I’m dancing on glass. If I press to hard, it shatters, and I’m falling into their grasp. But I won’t fall. I’ll continue dancing. And they’ll continue watching. Waiting for me to fall, waiting for the glass to shatter. But it won’t. I’ve changed.

After reading this, I hope, perhaps in vain, that you don’t judge someone for one wrongdoing committed long in the past. Despite what people think, people do change.

– The Empress


A Little Something to Inspire

Today, in art, we had to draw backup sketches of our art sketchbook; so me, being me, I did something on writing, which features a little something written by me (don’t look so surprised). Coincidentally, we are preparing for an English assignment where our only prompt is ‘Life is…’

To my surprise, while the short thing I wrote ties in brilliantly with both topics, I also like what I wrote. I can’t believe that last fact either. Because I liked it so much, I have decided to give it an honorary place on my blog. Who knows? This could be the start of something big.

Life is art. Anyone can survive life. But to succeed at life, you have to be an artist.

But how does one become an artist?

You have to find the light in eternal darkness. You have to learn to dance when you’ve fallen down. You have to sing when you can’t hear the song.

Life is art. Become the artist.