Creative Writing workshop at Malanda High

On Tuesday, 12^th August our school had the pleasure of hosting Melbourne based young adult author, Cath Crowley. Twenty six budding authors from Years 8 and 9 participated in a creative writing workshop where the focus was on creating a character whom “breathed, stepped off the page and stayed with the reader”. They thoroughly enjoyed the activities which stimulated their imaginations and extended their writing skills.

The work below is a clear indication of the success of the author workshop.

I know, I’m not supposed to cry. but my horse knows how it is. She’s a beast with a breath that fills her body of dancing, shimmering silver, as it softens and bubbles and swirls in the radiant heat of the summer days. She’s a steady rhythmic beat as she runs like a river, when dragged to a halt she dances and prances like water trapped before she breaks free and settles into the running gait. She doesn’t wait for any one to tell her where to go. some things are better left unsaid, untouched, god, I’d bury them at the bottom of the ocean, if I had the chance, but when your more than a hundred miles away from a summer sky, of liquid cool water, that’s not so easy.

Georgie Richards, Year 9

I looked at the ocean it was so blue, and when I watch the waves break on the shore I saw a fine line of white. I walked cautiously towards the water, I felt the water, it was warm. I walked in until it was as deep as my waist, I dived, I dived like I was searching for something, like my life is missing something. I swam through the ocean, not a care in the world. I love the smell of the salty air. This is the first time I’ve ever felt so free, my parents are so strict, so protective. Sometimes I feel like the sea weed is wrapped around my legs, and I can’t move.

Melina Sabbadin, Year 8

The armies faced each other. My dragon shivered with some unknown emotion. Fear was building within me. Maybe my mount could feel it too. I turned to my men. The faces of the men were ash grey as more and more troops filed through the pass ahead of us, forming up and standing to attention. Then came their dragons, numbers and digits can’t prepare you for that amount of winged creatures. Again my dragon shifted his weight making a slight jingle of a riding harness. The men were scared stiff only the thought of freedom held them in position. The dragon shifted again then spoke in a quite voice so the men couldn’t hear. “There are many.” I had to agree to that.

Geoffrey Hunt, Year 9