Writing Prompts and Suggestions

Here are some creative writing suggestions connected to the works you have recently read (for those of you who are looking for things to write about):


"Uncle Ernest"
*Write the conversation the two girls have about Uncle Ernest when they are both in their forties.
*Write Uncle Ernest's thoughts/diary the day after he is led out of the cafe by the two policemen.
*Imagine a conversation between Alma and Uncle Ernest. He is now an old man, and she is pushing a baby carriage. They meet by chance.
*Imagine that you are Uncle Ernest. Defend yourself against the accusations you find yourself facing and fight for your rights.
*Imagine a conversation between the girls' mother and Uncle Ernest the day after he is turned out of the cafe. She discovers he's a distant relative of her dead husband, for example.
*Write the story of the girls' dead father and what he died of...or maybe they have just been told that he's dead.

The Bluest Eye

*Imagine that Pecola dies. Write an epitaph or a eulogy for Pecola.
*Write Pecola's mother's thoughts when she sees that her daughter has gone mad.
*Write about one of your dreams.
*Write Pecola's or Pauline's letter to an Agony Aunt column.
*Write a conversation that Poland, China and the Maginot Line have when they learn that Pecola has gone mad.

"Auto Wreck"

*Imagine being the only survivor of an auto wreck.
*Write about a plane crash instead of an auto wreck. What would have to be changed? What can be retained?
*Write a letter of condolence to the family of a friend who died in a crash.
*Write a short text arguing for the abolition of cars and planes.
*Write about other types of wrecks or crashes (emotional and personal) that can be equally devastating.

"Not at Home"
*Imagine that all you have is this title and that you have not read the poem. Write the story or a poem you might have expected to read given this title. People may be absent in different ways, emotionally or mentally "not at home."

"With Her Lips Only"

Write the poem as a story...who is the lover? What are the husband's thoughts? Does he suspect anything?

What other situation might there be where people say things "with their lips only". Write about such a situation.

"The Zulu and the Zeide"

*Write the conversation the Zulu and the Zeide might have had if they could speak the same language.

*Write the conversation Harry and the Zeide might have had if Harry were given one more chance to talk to his father.

*Write the conversation Harry and his wife might have had the night after the funeral.

I hope this can get you started and help you to think of other things you may wish to write about in response to these and the other texts you read this term.

Endurance

Tom Petty once sang "well, I won't back down, no I won't back down. You can stand me up at the gates of hell, but I won't back down". These lyrics came to my mind when I read The Old Man and The Sea. The endurance the old man shows, how he keeps on going. "Gonna stand my ground, won't be turned around. And I'll keep this world from dragging me down, gonna stand my ground. And I won't back down" His will, and need to make this final goal, as if he knows, and perhaps he does, that his life is coming to an end. His acceptance of the fact that catching the fish might have been the easy part, and that life isn't going to cut him any slack. Getting the fish home in one piece will be an impossible task, but he gives himself no choise. "Hey, baby. There aint no easy way out. Hey, I will stand my ground, and I won't back down" It would have been easier to just let it go. Nobody expected that he, after 84 days without any luck, would go out and catch anything. Still, he keeps on going. For what? Being remembered? One final accomplishment? Let's assume that these are the reasons. Why are these things so important to us? Have we lived a better life if "everyone" remembers us? Or is it more personal? So that on your final day you can look back and see that you actually made something of your life? "Well, I know whats right. I'v got just one life. In a world that keeps on pushing me around, but I'll stand my ground. And I won't back down." Santiago was a fisherman, happy with his life as such, but didn't give in until that last fish was caught. That last proof that he had lived his life right and to the fullest. I guess these are the goals that make people hang in there. The reasons for the endurance in all of us. Our reasons to keep on going. "Hey, baby. There aint no easy way out. Hey, I will stand my ground, and I won't back down. No I won't back down."


*Lyrics taken from the song "Won't back down" by Tom Petty from the album "Full Moon Fever" released in 1989.

In response to The Old Man and the Sea.

singing the blues

eye blue eye I the bluest eye seeing being seen
see ugliness see beauty see black see white
love me blue bluest eye I
see who see how see me sight insight
blue suffering blue cruelty blue blinding eye blue bluest eye I
blues singing the blues
edge the edge the edge of the edge of town edge
seeing being seen


Written in response to The Bluest Eye
Solveig

Cold

In response to Robert Graves' poems

It seemed to me we only met yesterday,
The dusk had settled and the twilight was dominating these huge skies.
I was eager to see you that day,
We already agreed that we would meet where the fallen oak tree lies.

The first stars made their appearance and somehow time grew late.
Gazing over the river, I saw the fishermen take their leave.
Malignant thoughts arose: "Maybe she has forgotten about the date..."
But I decided to trust what you told me on Christmas Eve.

You told me you would take me to a secret place,
A place filled with blossoms and which looked like a maze.
When you finally arrived with tears in your eyes,
I could already guess,
What meant the black dress,
Matching the slowly darkening skies.

She clutched her arms around me and started weeping,
Her father had passed away last evening...
We quietly sat down on the oak,
Staying silent until the owls awoke.

My lips suddenly broke the icy silence:
"Maybe it would be better if I take you back home..."
"Please... stay with me..."
A weak and frail voice said.
I gently kissed her forehead.

Still night surrounded us beneath the moon,
No sound. The shadows loomed.
We silently moved through this cold,
The earth beneath our feet,
Oddly felt like a creeping mold,
Is this the place where we used to meet?

Written by Benno aka Rahjas.

Yellow Chickens

Yellow chickens
Inside barn
Yellow chickens growing
Inside a farm
Yellow chickens
Chickens ontop of chickens
Growing into hens.

Joy

Walking around poor
Not by choice lonely he is
Cops took girls away.

Haiku(In response to "Uncle Ernest")

The Soldier

In response to "Uncle Ernest" by Alan Sillitoe

The Soldier

Everyday he would just sit there,
Empty void filling his eyes.
Broken and bound to his cold chair
He could not forget their cries.

Mines, bombs, fire and smoke
As far as the eye can see.
Nobody telling a joke
In the trenches of this bloody sea.

Yet now he is alone.
For everybody cares only for their own.
After the war, peace was brought
Or so everybody thought.

Everyday he would just sit there,
Left out of this joyful new life.
Broken and bound to his cold chair
He wondered if he was still alive.

Yet he knows but one thing,
He could not forget their cries.

Written by Ben Schreiner aka Rahjas.

In the Window

This sang is in response to "The Bluest Eyes" by Toni Morrison

The name of the sang is "In the Window"



How much is that nigger in the window
The one with the good strong back

How much is that nigger in the window

I do hope that nigger's for sale

I don't want a lazy or a weak one
I don't want one that's full of sass
I don't want one that ain't willin to work
I can't use em if he's not going to last

How much is that nigger in the window
The one with the good strong back
How much is the nigger in the window
I do hope that niggers for sale

I'll not pay more than he's worth
I'll give you a dollar and no more
Mister you got a bargain for sure
He'll be pickin cotton and tilling the earth

How much is that nigger in the window
The one with the good strong back
How much is the nigger in the window
I do hope that niggers for sale.



written by Susan Gail Barlien

Until the end of the world

All the weights that keep me down
Seem heavier then before
Fate hits me in the face
Though you feel nothing

Only time will heal you say
Your words not fair to me
But half of me is gone
My dearest treasure torn away

I`ll stick with you until the end of the world
I`ll cry out loud but you hear nothing
I`ll wait for you until the end of the world
My dearest treasure torn away.

Just Ernest

Wheels of years made uncle Ernest a ghost, without Identity card as he were not made of flesh and blood.

Nightmare hours from the war, shellshocks and a jolted brain, a nation hero, treated like a criminal by the authorities arrogant eyes.

Never mind who we are. We know all about you. We know who you are. Who do think you are?

Thanks to you from uncle Sam.

OJF

"Skipper'n"

You often see him when you enter the local grocery shop. Chatting with the employees, or searching the rubbish bin. Your arrival arrests his attention. His eyes meet yours, in a curious, a bit insistent, way. You say hallo, and he nods back with a small smile of recognition. If you stop, he will start to chat. That’s why you lower your glance, and hurry on into the shop.
They call him “Skipper’n” like in Popeye. He wears a cap, just like old sailors do. His chin is sharp, he has a large protrusion which gives his mouth a squeezed look.
In summer, if it’s hot, stripped to the waist, you see him in the village centre. Wearing too small shorts, white tennis socks, moccasins – and his cap. His skin is dry and wrinkled, old, much older than his small, curious eyes. You can smell his body’s odour at a radius of 3 meters.

On early summer mornings I can see him from my bedroom window, walking along E6, searching for bottles. That’s what “Skipper’n” always does, search for bottles he can collect the deposit for, in rubbish bins and in ditches. Weather or season doesn’t matter.
Why? I don’t know, I’ve never asked him. I avoid his chats, like most of us do. Why? I don’t know.
In respons to "Uncle Ernest"

Car Crash

Taking and breaking
lives
Causing and leaving
sorrow

Lucky?
then injured for eternal days
Most
have walked their final ways

If I knew
it was the last time I saw you
If I knew
I would never let go

So sudden
so little I could do
Forever in my heart
I will always miss you

Drive carefully
and beware
Those who are left behind
are those who wish you were here...

In response to Auto Wreck

How People Make Lies

How
pEople
mAke
Lies!

Holy
Earth
And
Life

Heart
Enough
mAkes
aLways

Hope
drEams
And
Love

HEAL Michael Jacson the world artist and pop STAR legend, creating beutiful lyrics, poetry and music, so wounded, destroyed and crucified.

OJF

Cathedral

Cathedral
When I had read the short story once, I felt relieved. The language was so easy, and the theme seemed so obvious and clear. Therefore I felt I was very well prepared for the class discussion the following day. I was right. I could easily follow the other students’ reflections
and thoughts about this short story. Actually, I was not so affected by this one.
But it was before we saw the film about the writer. I learned that he had a big problem with alcohol, and so had his father. When we saw the film scene from Christmas with the messy house, the wrecked Christmas three and the children who were going to watch a cartoon at TV, something happened to me. I realized that I have seen exactly the same scene before! It was many years ago. I had a very good friend who lived nearby my home. Her father was an alcoholic, and there were days which we were not allowed to come into their house.
I remember it was one cold and sunny Christmas day I decided to pick her up on my way to the skating rink. I would show her my brand new skates which I have got for Christmas.
I knocked at the door several times, but no one opened it. So I decided to walk inside. I couldn’t imagine that her father could be drunk when it was Christmas. But as I stepped through the door, I realized that I was wrong. Her father was drunk and angry, and her mother was crying. It was messy all over the house. But the main thing, the thing which never has got out of my mind, was the wrecked Christmas three which was lying on the floor. My friend and her brother tried to put it back. I don’t know if they recognized my absence.
I can’t remember what I did afterwards, whether I went to the skating rink or not. But I will remember the terrible scene on that Christmas day as long as I live.
(In response to Raymond Carver’s “Cathedral”)

The Transformation

From jealousy and

an insensitive personality.

Having no friends and

jumps to conclusions.

To a new understanding

of blind people

and acceptation.

That's really something!

(In response to Raymond Carver's Cathedral)

Cathedral

His so inseCure
While I’m sitting here Alone
I can see The look on his face
FrigHtening and frustrated

He blamEs me for everything
I Don’t know why
DRugs and alcohol
Might be the reAson

I think i wilL say good bye now..

(In response to Raymond Carver's "Cathedral")

Cathedral, the drinks and the dope

When I learned that the author Raymond Carver had problem with alcoholism, I reflected some more of the use of whiskey and smoking dope or cannabis in the story "Cathedral". The narrator drinks pretty much before he and the blind man, Robert starts to smoke some dope. So when he and the blind was able to comunicate closely with each other, he normally must have been pretty drunk? And when they were going to listen to a tape from the blind man he got drinks for it. The first drink was at the kitchen table when he should listen to his wife about the blind man. This was after she asked him if he was drunk. When the wife went to pick up the blind man he was having a drink watching the TV. When he had welcomed the blind he made three, big glasses of Scotch with a splash of water in each. When they have talked about the trip they had another drink. When they sat down for dinner, they had another drink. After dinner they had them two or three more drinks, and I guess that`s not that clear anylonger. Then before they starts to smoke dope there was a question for another drink which was brought along with the dope. There is also some referings to the drinks and empty glasses. So there is much about drinks and dope in a relativly short story which is mostly about a blind man and the meeting with him. I didn`t think much about this aspect of the story when I red it the first time. Here he meets a stranger, a good friend of his wife, he gets boozed and it`s made like it`s normal?

Losing spree

His eyes are sore
His hands are hurting
No air to breathe
No memories to think
The battle is lost

In response to Goalie

Lucky?

People feel sad for those without vision,
but I don't understand
why we pity them.
They do not have to see
the horrible things in this world;
war, diseases, blood and pain...
I see this every day,
and what can I do?
Sometimes I think
the blind are lucky..

In response to Raymond Carters "Cathedral"

Vision

His vision is perfectly fine
but still
he is blind.
He does not manage to see,
all the stuff that matter to me.
He shuts me out
he makes me sad,
I have really never felt this bad.
Someone gave me a good advice;
you should open your eyes!
I should leave,
I should go
but
I love him so!

In response to Raymond Carvers "Cathedral"

Spinning Feet

Spinning feet
In brain in head
of thoughts instead
his brain is talking
his feet are walking

He thinks of action
but misses traction
he can't be winning
his feet are spinning

Poem

Beautiful flowers
Romantic letters
Expensive resturants
True love
Big green parks
Pure Silence

Goalie by OJF

My first thoughts about "Goalie" was about dreams and the stars in our life, and the importans about them. "Goalie" is a good and very relevant title to the story. Is`s concrete about a young goalie in the teamsport icehockey, but as an goalie you stands alone in the team with a huge responsibility on your sholders. Sports can teach us a lot and give important experience in life. But it`s also about dreams, be able to achive goals and dreams. Dreams are important for kids so don`t take them away. And my belife, and it`s a belife which is getting stronger with more knowledge and experience, is that talents should be developed and taken care of. Do somebody have a talent it`s something they should do. In "Goalie" the father tries do do the right things for his son, but he is not sure if he is.

Grandfather

The old man sits in his chair whatching TV.
He coughs and his chest is hurting.
The feeling of not being able to breathe properly scares him.

The doorbell is ringing.
In comes a little girl, his grandchild,
smiling like she does every time she sees him.
They talk for a while, and he brings her a glass of milk and some bread,
before she rushes out to play.

He sees her through the window so alive and full of joy.
Tomorrow he will hear the sound of the doorbell again.
"I must remember to buy some more of her favourite meat and icecream," he says to himself.
As he sits down in front of the TV again he can feel the same pain and his face is sad.

In response of "The Moons of Jupiter".