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fandomhigh2007-01-09 11:25 pm
idontspeakfreak.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2007-01-09 11:25 pm
Entry tags:
Creative Writing, Period 6 1/10
When the students come in they’ll see Yuki typing on a laptop. He seems to be paying very little attention to them as they come in. But as soon as most of them are there he stands and clears his throat. “Okay. My name is Yuki. Just call me Yuki. None of that Mister Yuki crap.”
“First thing you should know is that being a writer is a bad career choice. You slave away until you get famous by the smallest sliver of luck, then you work hard, go insane meeting deadlines, get ulcers and most of the good ones eventually end up committing suicide. And still most people only know your characters names and don’t care who you are anyway.”
He looks at the class with a bit of distain. “Well... that said, I want you all to write something that’s a page long. I don’t care what it is, I want to see where you all are... ability wise... Turn them in before the end of the class. Oh and if I can’t read it, then it’s a zero. So if you can’t print clearly by this age then you better start bringing a laptop.”
“I’ll give you feedback on them as soon as you give it to me. Or I’ll tell you in my office tomorrow, if you don’t feel like getting embarrassed in front of your classmates or something. I’ll be in there every Thursday by the way. In case you need to revise some writing for the later classes, since near the end of the year you’re going to be writing a short story.”
((OOC: Handwave any where you’d like, I don’t expect you to actually have to write anything in here, if you actually feel an urge to then you’re free to and I WILL actually have Yuki make comments, for those that don’t have that kind of time, feel free to either give me a short sentence with the topic and your characters writing ability and that’s all))
“First thing you should know is that being a writer is a bad career choice. You slave away until you get famous by the smallest sliver of luck, then you work hard, go insane meeting deadlines, get ulcers and most of the good ones eventually end up committing suicide. And still most people only know your characters names and don’t care who you are anyway.”
He looks at the class with a bit of distain. “Well... that said, I want you all to write something that’s a page long. I don’t care what it is, I want to see where you all are... ability wise... Turn them in before the end of the class. Oh and if I can’t read it, then it’s a zero. So if you can’t print clearly by this age then you better start bringing a laptop.”
“I’ll give you feedback on them as soon as you give it to me. Or I’ll tell you in my office tomorrow, if you don’t feel like getting embarrassed in front of your classmates or something. I’ll be in there every Thursday by the way. In case you need to revise some writing for the later classes, since near the end of the year you’re going to be writing a short story.”
((OOC: Handwave any where you’d like, I don’t expect you to actually have to write anything in here, if you actually feel an urge to then you’re free to and I WILL actually have Yuki make comments, for those that don’t have that kind of time, feel free to either give me a short sentence with the topic and your characters writing ability and that’s all))
Re: Turn In Papers/Feedback
Mitzy, Flitzy, and Grace were sitting on the porch, enjoying their afternoon tea and strumpets. "Oh, I do hope Mister Pompepats comes for a visit today," Mitzy said, sipping her tea and batting her eyelashes while she readjusted her stupid hat.
"Oh, indeed," Flitzy agreed. "Mayhap we shall all go for a stroll on the knoll and have some rolls?"
"I am a stupidhead," Grace said. Mitzy and Flitzy agreed.
"We shall go into town," Mitzy said, "and get our hair done and other such girl nonsense, because that is what we, as nonsense girls of this classical British manor, shall do. Mayhap we shall also--"
But Mitzy's words dropped away as a low rumbling sound came from the distance. "I dare say," Flitzy clutched at her bosom with surprise. "Whatever could that be? You don't supp--"
But Flitzy didn't get to finish her sentence before, over the moors, came rumbling a great big giant tank! It was big and giant and green, with an American flag and a banner that said 'Queen Turtle Forever.' Mitzy, Flitzy, and Grace all screamed and tried to escape the charging tank, but their stupid floofy dresses got tangled up in the table. "Oh, noes!" cried out Mitzy. "Whatever shall we do?"
"Whatever is a tank doing in nineteenth century England?" Flitzy dispared, just as Tannim and Conner and the guy who's name I can't write because I'll get in trouble stuck their heads out of the tank and started lobbing gernades at them. Mitzy, Flitzy, and Grace screamed in terror, but it was no good. Explosions were everywhere, blowing up their stupid faces. Boom! Boom! Boom! Turtle was there, too, but for moral support.
Explosions and sharpnel flew through the air; it was a veritable Fourth of July party! Now that Mitzy, and Flitzy, and Grace were blown up, Tannim and Conner and the guy who's name I can't write because I'll get in trouble and Turtle got rid of the gay tea and strumpets and had hot dogs and pizza and Squishies, which were free with the purchase of a Westing Paper Product, but only for today. And they talked about how much prettier and cooler Turtle was than Mitzy and Flitzy and Grace.
The End.
Re: Turn In Papers/Feedback
Re: Turn In Papers/Feedback
"Yup, it's Turtle," she said, beaming. "I'm the one who sold you cigarettes, remember? And more description?" Her head tilted as she considered the story. "Like, more on the way the gernades blow up and the destructive carnage and maybe what toppings are on the pizza?"
Re: Turn In Papers/Feedback