Cemetery by Katarina R.

Fog covered landscape
Grey in the skies, grey in the stones
Names held through time
Seep into people’s bones

Skeletons hiding
Pine enshrouded
Billows with calm
Translucent clouded

Air heavy
Grief permeates
Eyes cast down
Never to abate

Held between


Soulmates by Sofia C.


You and I;

Were meant to be together,

Soulmates forever.

Till’ that fateful day

Where you gave way,

The sky has taken you away.

In the dark I weep,

The storm has taken a violent leap.

Down, down, down, into the dark

The stars fade away, gone is their spark.

My life is shattered, tattered, over.

I’m floating, in the clouds, through the bridge, over.

I need you, please come back to this world.

You and I;

We were meant to be together,

Soulmates forever.

Why aren’t you here?

This is me, I need you my peer.

Come back, the storm will lighten,

I won’t have to be frightened.

Except that will never happen with me,

Because dear soulmate, you were taken from me.

Shakespeare Festival Activity Assistants Needed

The Fine Arts Club hosts the Shakespeare Festival each year. This year it will be April 23-27.

The Fine Arts club and the Creative Writing club will be collaborating for the Shakespeare Festival this year! While the rest of FAC will have their own part in the planning, the CWC would be helping out with making scripts and lyrics. The lyrics will be derived from the script of the plays that we will be performing. At a certain point in the script, a song will be sung by a chosen singer. The lyrics of the song will continue but not mirror the remaining script lines. The lyrics can also be placed at any time in the script that the Activity Assistants see fit. Activity Assistants? That’s you guys! (And some of the FAC members who also want to help). The CWC (the Activity Assistants) would basically be getting everything ready for the actors and singers.

If you are interested, use this is the link to the FAC website where you will see a Shakespeare Festival post, and an Activity Assistants post. There, you will find more information on what the Creative Writing Club is going to be doing!

Activity Assistants will receive 20 participation points.

Activity Assistants Sign Up: https://goo.gl/forms/rkTUjc7JLQOgjAUE2

The Garden by Isabelle H.

From a garden
Sprouted concrete
And buildings sky high.
Gravel and pavement,
Cars and buses and bikes
Stretched across
Landscapes like vines
Then the people came too.
They built and they worked
And they lived.
And there was nothing wrong
With that of course…
The problem began when
Light was thought to have come
From lines; not the sun.
When nature became foreign,
Just something seen not done.
And when I asked their favorite colors,
They were all shades of grey.
It was when they thought
The whole world could be
Contained in a single screen
That growing in a city
Was really just forgetting.
Because the world
Is so much bigger
And brighter
And green.

Writing Prompt!

From Grace: Use winter as a metaphor in a poem. What purpose does it serves for the message of your poem?

Write for 10 minutes. Post to comments.

“New Year, New Ink” by Mary-Kelly

This previous year has been filled with flooded word documents, crumpled papers, used pens, and those annoying led smears that you get on the side of your hand after writing for an extended period of time, and I must say that I would not trade anything for it. I will admit, I didn’t get as much writing in as I would have liked, but those are regrets that I will let perish as we finally shut the door that was 2017. We will miss you buddy, but it’s time to move forward. The writing journey has only just begun.
We welcome 2018 with a fresh sheet of paper. We have opened a new word document. We have replaced the ink in our pens. But all of this raises the question that certainly has been weighing on the back of my mind: What do we do now?
This question doesn’t have a certain answer. It is a question that only time can reveal. It is time that we must use to our advantage in this refreshed step in our writing journey. However, if you’re anything like me, you have probably already experienced that block in the road. The uncertainty of what to now scribble with this fresh sheet, with this new word document, with this new ink. There are billions of words in the English language and countless ways to put them together, so what makes it so hard?
We are our own barrier and we set our own standards. We have a tendency to label ourselves. We choose to “prefer.” We choose what is deemed comfortable to us. This year, tear away the label. Whether it may say “poet” or “short story writer” or whatever, let it go. Try a new writing format. Tread into a different genre. Open up your horizons.
As a young writer (well…younger) I always saw myself as someone who would only be writing fiction novels. I thought I would be the biggest thing since sliced bread. I saw myself growing up to be THE author. If little Mary-Kelly with her ring pops and twinkle toes could see me now as I move along in my narrative journey, I can’t tell you what she’d say. However, I’ve learned that dreaming big is not a bad thing, but to limit yourself from the endless possibilities that this art form can offer won’t help you learn who you are as a writer, and that to make it to the top takes a lot of time, a lot of luck, and a lot of ink. This isn’t to discourage you or tell one to completely abandon the kind of writing that they have mastered, but to simply stretch out and try. Perhaps you don’t like a style or genre. That is OK, but try to avoid restricting yourself and discover which forms of writing that you do or do not like. You never know what you can find behind a closed door.
So let regrets in 2017 die as we finally open a new chapter. Rip away the label, and refer to yourself as a “writer.” This could mean so many things. There are millions of doors to look behind. So I say, hello 2018! Hit us with whatever you got!

Dance of the Eclipse by Grace T.

The thick fog wrapped its self around the streets of Oxford, much like a heavy blanket. The sun hadn’t made its grand appearance yet, only the lightening of the dark sky seemed to be the only course of action. Early risers and those from the night before wandered the street silently, save for the gentle brisk winds brushing by or the faint whispers of Midnight celebratory affairs. The Bridge of sighs standing proudly, arched above the cobbled streets. Amongst the mass, was a small figure in the midst of a ghostly crowd.
The figure was fashioning a coat of deep navy, the hem of a crème color dress beneath the coat. She had a shock of ruby hair, much like split wine flowing down on the figure’s shoulders. The hazy breath of the cold slipped from her lips, just as red as her hair. Even with the striking hair, she blended into the small crowd quite effectively. The only one noticing her was the young gentleman by the corner.
His dark hair flickering like a flame the cold wind, his coat whipping around him. He walked in such a way that his footsteps could not be echoed by the Cobbled road. Like a cat about to pounce, he carefully glided in front of the woman.
She stopped right in her tracks, facing the man in front of her confidently. Having fierce eyes, he could almost stare into her thoughts as she watched him with a simple smile. Seeing that his antics to scare her away were not affective, He relaxed in her presence. The woman bowed, she positioned herself in “A la Seconde” and twisted her waist, her hand rising up in a gentle manner. Suddenly, the wind calmed, she spun slowly like clockwork, a bright ray of light casting itself on the lined facades of shops.
The man lifted his arms, the wind picked up again and the light faded, Replacing the rays with the sky’s shadows. She dropped her coat in response, laying lifeless below her; revealing the intricate lace crème dress. She offered her hand, he took it, swiftly bringing her around, spinning, her arm outstretched. She formed a one-armed pirouette. This time, the sun itself started to rise. Midway, stopping her he spun suite, and bowed. Lifting up ever so slowly, his hands faced the sky. The sun stopped, frozen, and the moon arose instead. Twinkling stars were above, showing off their shine.
They “fought” smoothly, when the woman threw her hands in the air, the stars faded, and the sky lightened in to muted oranges and yellows. When the man ‘Counter claimed’ the sky changed back to a mysterious night sky filled with an abundance with stars. Going on and on, the opponents raged on this battle of the sky in an amazing spectacle. The current victorious player: the man, who had kept his swirling night’s rein over the town.
The woman paused, she looked towards the man, in a silent acknowledgment, he nodded and offered his hand to her. She took it, and they started to dance. Her hand on his shoulder, and his hand on her waist, they swayed gently. Gliding among the street effortlessly, the streetlights dimmed as the danced by.
The sky began to turn in vivid shades – Lavender, apricot and pistachio- stretching across the bright night sky. The moon and sun on either side of the sky, slowly drifting to the center. The partner’s Moderato turns to a Vivace; the speed of their lively dance picking up and leading them into the center of street made stage.
As she twirled, the colors got brighter in the sky. As he glided with her in the street, the stars glowed in the midst of the sky.
In a spectacular finale, the dancers took each other’s hands and spun around each other, in such a way they seemed to bend as if they had no bones. The man took the woman’s waist and lifted her in the air, in a haunt of arms the woman was frozen in midair. The night sky turned completely pitch black.
The sky was blasted with a huge ray of light.
In the most wonderful, marvelous way, the moon and sun collided, seen between the bridge’s gap. In a synergy of night and day, light and dark, the two aligned, creating beautiful abubble amongst the cosmos. The colors danced as stars swayed, causing celebratory effects across the sky.
The buildings were shaded with shadows from the sky’s display. Spectators viewed the ‘show with a awe-filled view that wouldn’t leave them, even after the Eclipse was over.
And all of this in seven long minutes, the wonderous effect did not last long. As the sky faded its gorgeous colors and the myriad of stars dimmed, the dancers faced each other once more.
And like old friends turned strangers, the two departed on their way to whatever the new day was bringing them, the sun rose to bring wake to many. Life went along as usual, just as yester-years before.
Although the dancers left, one more soul stayed in the street. At the café on the corner, a woman cloaked in pure midnight sat at a table, tapping her fingers on its counter face. She had been previously watching the spectacle.
She muttered only a simple word.

Writing Prompt!

From Emilee: Take a figure traditionally evil and very feared and write from its perspective on how its reputation is all wrong. If you want flip to the other side of things, take something traditionally seen as good and loved and write from its perspective on how its reputation is all wrong.

Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments.

Meeting This Week!

During our meeting, Thursday January 18, we will wrap up our Fable discussion and talk about The Hobbit for our book discussion.

Book Discussion

  • We are reading and discussing The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkein.
  • January 18th, 7-8pm EST
  • After reading the book, if there’s something specific you’d like to present or talk about, create a PPT slide.
  • Slides should not be summaries of the book or about the author.
  • Slides can be about specific techniques or devices you’ve observed about the writing.
  • Email slides by January 17.

If you’re not able to join us this week, I will send out information about the assignment.
Please sign in with your first and last name for attendance.

Open Mic
Want to read some of your writing at this week’s meeting or have someone else read it?
Open Mic Requirements:
-You must email your piece by Wednesday, January 17.
-You can submit fiction, poetry, or non-fiction.
-Your piece or excerpt should be 500 words or less.
-Pieces must be school appropriate. Pieces should not be explicitly political, religious, or intimate.
-Pieces will be read on a first come, first served basis as time allows.

Fable Writing Assignment

  • Write a fable providing a modern moral.
  • Fable should be 1,000 words or less.
  • School appropriate.
  • Pieces due by February 17.

Back In Town by Angela M.

I’m back in town

And I’m here to stay

Back in town

With many things to say

Its been decades since I’ve seen you all

Your faces unrecognizable

Bearing weights impossible to lift

Tearing down at the joy once displayed

Remember when we were ten

Down at the swings

We always played


Sporting bracelets

A neon pink saying we’d be together forever

But now we’re older

And we realize how foolish we were

Forever is a long time

And we barely stuck together for a month

But at least I know that once

I knew you

You knew me

I’m back in town

And it startles me to see


And I mean nothing

Is how it used to be

Not even you

And not even me