Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!

[angiezhang9]

Hi Angie! I really really appreciate your patience

My comments are in bold throughout the spoiler:

Spoiler

Dandelion wishes Why do I like this title so much??!!!
I had no idea of past or future. Something about this sentence isn't right...should it be "about" instead of "of"...I'm not sure, but consider rewording. I had no concept of? I have no direction about? Something like this. Each day was spiced with ordinary desperation. I love the contrast between spiced and ordinary - that's great. To see one more sunrise, to stay warm through one more night, to survive for now, was all I cared about.
Emerging from my cocoon of damp cardboard and linen, my stiff bones cracked Bones cracking to me sounds like a bone breaking. It could just be me, but joints cracking might be better? Or joints popping? and my head throbbed with agonising familiarity. I reached for my bottle and upended the dregs of Skol from last night, from every night. Swallowing felt like sandpaper slowly scraping down the back of my throat but my mind was numb once again. I stretched out my arms and sighed, preparing for another endless day of exhaustive endurance.
Almost automatically, I adjusted my fraying beanie over my coarse and rope-like hair, trudged over to my usual bench, kicking the prickly balls that fell from the trees and scattered across the dilapidated park I called home. Nameless, faceless grey-suited men passed-me-by with faces downcast as if concentrating on the cracks of the path.  I enjoy this!
I knew them. Each of them. I knew their days, their offices, their homes. I had been in? to? them before... 
I had also been a father once. I packed lunches, read bedtime stories, gave piggy packs and cooked party pies for dinner. My daughter was my world until one day, I replaced her with the bottle I held between my blistered fingers. The fingers I once embraced her with. I'm just not sure about "one day" - it makes it seem as though alcoholism is a one day switch instead of a slippery slope. I'd be more inclined to adjust "one day" to something that implies a process.
***
Amidst the wall of grey, my eyes were drawn to a mother and daughter, feeding the pigeons that had gathered in a frenzy. The joyous squeals of the little girl as the birds surrounded her filled the silent park. I was mesmerised by their the happiness that was so distant in my memory. If you say "their" happiness you are saying that the happiness of the girls and the birds are in your memory, when I think you actually mean that happiness was a memory.
***
As I continued staring at the resurrection of life in the deteriorating park, I rediscovered a glimmer of joy that had been drowned out by the sea of alcohol that washed over me. I suddenly remembered the soft and gentle grip as my daughter pulled me along to a field of wild daisies. New line for new dialogue. “Let’s go Daddy!” she chirped, staring at me with the innocent, brown eyes, "innocent brown eyes" is a cliche and I know you can do better because you've already showcased your wonderful writing ability. Take on originality - perhaps swap innocent for dreamy, optimistic, naive, shiny... the colour of her mother’s rich chocolate pudding. My heart warmed and I closed my hand tighter around hers. I promised myself that I would never let her go. If only a promise could not be so easily broken…
‘Hello,’ a voice so sweet and cheerful that it brought me back to reality. A sound so loving and foreign to me.
‘Oh… hi.’ I returned with an awkward, forgotten smile.
She reached down and gently picked a dandelion growing in the cracks near the park bench. Her curly pigtails bouncing up and down as her chubby fingers handed the delicate flower to me. New line for new dialogue‘Make a wish!” she whispered. “My mummy told me that if you blow on it, your wish will come true.” She stared at me with excitement as I smirked at her naďve ignorance.
“Let’s go Lillian”, the mother grabbed her daughter’s arm and pulled her away, staring down at me with utter disgust. The icy chill of her glare shattered my heart, the one her daughter had warmed. As they left the park and departed from my world forever, I stared down at the woolly plant that had gone limp from my intense grip. I looked around at the decaying world my life had transformed into. The silence screamed in my ear. The little girl looked back one last time with the wide, curious eyes my daughter once had. “Goodbye!” she shouted, skipping away with glee. Once again, I was standing by myself, a mere weed in a thriving forest. Once again, I was without a family, without a home, without anyone to even make eye contact with. But this time I realised that I was alone, strangled by the arms of isolation and depression.
For the first time, my eyes began welling up with tears. Tears of sadness, tears of loss, tears of frustration. But soon these became streams of anger and ambition. I rose from the rusted bench and began to follow the path of the suited men. My legs began travelling faster and faster until I began running.
The wind blew through my hair, the icy chill numbed my lips. I inhaled the piercing aroma of coffee as I exhaled the stale alcohol that consumed my mind. I ran to the rhythm of the car horns and weaved through the maze of people. By the time I arrived, my legs had lost their feeling.
I leaned my exhausted body against the smooth, polished fence. The cool metal felt refreshing between my fingertips as I left a small stain of sweat on the immaculate silver paint, just as I had done fifteen years ago. I wiped it with my sleeve to make sure I did not make the same mistake. I finally managed to lift my head and peered through the window of the house that was so familiar, yet so distant. My own eyes met with the chocolate-brown eyes that were not so innocent anymore. They were strong and independent, full of determination and resilience. But they couldn’t mask the hurt and confusion, the scar that I had left.
My cracked lips widened as I stared at my past and my newfound future. I slowly reached for the battered dandelion that I had kept in my pocket and took a deep breath. I watched the magical white seeds dance and twirl with the sun’s rays further and further away. I made a wish -  a wish to never let her go.

Your story is very difficult to critique because you've done a lot of great things here. The delicacy of which you've dealt with alcoholism is really wonderful and very authentic. My only critique about that is, I want to see a little more of the physical effects of his alcoholism throughout. Perhaps even if it was just that his head throbbed, or his throat was aching for more, whatever it is. In the beginning you do it really well, but making a connection between that state and the young girl would be most powerful. Or, at the end, if we could make a connection between reaching for dandelion's instead of reaching for alcohol, that could be very very powerful as well.

the discovery is spiritual, emotional, physical, and in some ways intellectual and creative. So you've definitely ticked a lot of boxes here which is wonderful to see.

Just be careful with your control of dialogue. Have a quick google for the correct conventions of dialogue and how we should be organising dialogue in a story (new line new speaker, punctuation inside of quotation marks, using quotation marks and not apostrophes, etc). This'll just ensure the integrity of your work is stellar!

I don't at all think the ending is too sudden, but like I said, that stronger comparison between the alcohol and the dandelion could leave a "wow" moment! On that same vein, you definitely explore the impacts of discovery and will do that even better with a slight tweaking of the ending! Happy to have you post back a finalising paragraph if you wanted feedback on the adjustment if you choose to do so! Good luck You should be proud of this one!

Thanks so much for taking the time to look at this for me! Your feedback and suggestions are incredible. I have added a bit to the ending as you suggested. I also added a line to describe how the daughter has grown up and become independent. Is there a better example of describing this than what I have done? This is my edited ending:

I leaned my exhausted body against the smooth, polished fence. The cool metal felt refreshing between my fingertips as I left a small stain of sweat on the immaculate silver paint, just as I had done twenty years ago. I wiped it with my sleeve to make sure I did not make the same mistake. I finally managed to lift my head and peered through the window of the house that was so familiar, yet so distant.
A lady was cradling her baby, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. She turned around and my eyes met with her beautiful, dark eyes that were not so innocent anymore. They were strong and independent, full of determination and resilience. But they couldn’t mask the hurt and confusion, the scar that I had left.
My cracked lips widened as I stared at my past and my newfound future. My aching legs bent down and I carefully reached for the delicate, emerging dandelion instead of the harsh, glass bottle. I took a deep breath and watched the magical white seeds dance and twirl with the sun’s rays further and further away. I made a wish -  a wish to never let her go.

[studybuddy7777]

Hey all!
This was the creative writing I wrote for my trials (partly memorised) in 40 mins, exam conds. I would appreciate some feedback, as well as some feedback on the feedback  (down below)

Disclaimer: apologies for any mistakes but I typed this with autocorrect on 
Just as a general FYI, this fills approximately 4 pages or close to it.

Thanks a heap for doing this! 6 days until Paper 1 everyone!!

Edit 1 Also could you give it a mark out of 15, purely so I can judge (yes, judge 😈) your marking and relative critique to ones already given to me.

I am also aware I need more paragraphing. Could you possibly point this out throughout? Thanks

Edit 2: Also do i need a title?

Sorry for the increasing demands just more and more things are coming to me

Spoiler

AoS creative writing- Trial HSC

At the bottom of the box lay an old dog eared photo album from a life much more happier and complete than this one. All he wanted to do was know what it was like to be happy again, but he did not know how best to go about it, who to ask first. As he flicked through the pages, crinkled through the assistance of so many tears, the photographs came alive. There he was back up on the old, wooden stage in primary school confidently reciting his leadership speech. The image flips and suddenly he is on the glossy stage of secondary school, stoked that he has topped the class in English. Another photo goes past and he is in the music ensemble, laughing and playing his guitar. It always amazed him how he used to find such trivial things such as kicking a ball or egging his least favourite teacher's car not only fun and entertaining but also daring and enthralling. He can't help but wonder if that version of him would be proud of what he'd become. It was like he had a split personality, happy and bubbly at first, then a few pages later dark, brooding and evasive. He had to stop for a minute when he saw a photo of himself unhappy, because there were too many ice shards in his ice-cream. He wanted to scream at himself "Don't you realise that this is so trivial, so minute, and does not matter at all?" A separate sleeve at the end of the album showed achievements and commendations for a boy he was sure was not him; he would never have been able to do something so valiant and brave, or caring and compassionate.

As he was putting the document back in the sleeve he heard movement and slammed the album so fast his finger instantly turned about as blue as he felt.  A moment of indecision as the intruder comes down the narrow, creaky, wooden stairs. No one ever comes down here. Not anymore. He was just about to flee when he heard a familiar voice that put him instantly at ease. He whirled around and saw it was none other than his mother's spirit. She whispered something in his ear that made him remember why he had loved her so much; able to keep calm and carry on through these tough times. He had the "keep calm and carry on" posters taped to the back of his door until he could no longer successfully meet the requirements they posed. Already his mother's spirit was receding, and he questions whether or not it was real or if he had just imagined it. His bruised finger provided enough evidence for him that it was real. It was in that exact moment that he had a strong urge to visit the park where his dad and him had played with each other. He used to ride on his shoulders and believe he was on top of the world; that he could could do anything he set his mind to. He opened the door for the first time in many years, the door hesitant to budge from lack of use and stepped outside.

Outside, the sun was blinding like a hundred flashlights burning his retinas. Outside was a bustling metropolis he was not used to. Outside, people were stressed and in such a hurry to get to some place unbeknown to him, which always puzzled him.

He finally reached the park where he had spent most of his childhood. It was fairly unchanged; the same green grass covered the space like a blanket and it was unoccupied. As he sits down, a warm breeze wraps around him like a tight hug and he comes to the realisation that he can no longer live locked up his whole life, in his self created jail cell. He needs to be outside in the elements. It is only out here where he can truly heed his mother's advice to keep calm and carry on, and for the first time in ages, he feels as though he can do anything he sets his mind to.

[NOTE: The part in italics does not flow well and I am looking to change that, just not sure how.]

Feedback:
- Good work!
- Think about strengthening the part he has the urge to go to the park?
- Maybe bring in dad earlier?
- Provide more context.

[Emerald99]

But he makes the discovery all on one day? Like he's standing their listening to his principal speak and not connecting with the what she's saying, only when he hears his other teacher saying something he realises the importance of the day, I'm not sure how to make the whole thing into diary entries/letters?

[jamonwindeyer]

Hi this is my creative that i wrote for both mid years and trials! i got a much better mark in trials but i am wondering how i can fix it and whether i should write another creative in case or stick with this one:

Hey ATAR! You'll need to get to 20 posts to get feedback on this creative, based on earlier feedback

Hey all!
This was the creative writing I wrote for my trials (partly memorised) in 40 mins, exam conds. I would appreciate some feedback, as well as some feedback on the feedback  (down below)

Oh sorry mate, you'll need more posts, it's actually a 500 posts per essay rule for HSC Moderators named studybuddy

Lol, we'll get you feedback ASAP

[elysepopplewell]

Thanks so much for taking the time to look at this for me! Your feedback and suggestions are incredible. I have added a bit to the ending as you suggested. I also added a line to describe how the daughter has grown up and become independent. Is there a better example of describing this than what I have done? This is my edited ending:

I leaned my exhausted body against the smooth, polished fence. The cool metal felt refreshing between my fingertips as I left a small stain of sweat on the immaculate silver paint, just as I had done twenty years ago. I wiped it with my sleeve to make sure I did not make the same mistake. I finally managed to lift my head and peered through the window of the house that was so familiar, yet so distant.
A lady was cradling her baby, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. She turned around and my eyes met with her beautiful, dark eyes that were not so innocent anymore. They were strong and independent, full of determination and resilience. But they couldn’t mask the hurt and confusion, the scar that I had left.
My cracked lips widened as I stared at my past and my newfound future. My aching legs bent down and I carefully reached for the delicate, emerging dandelion instead of the harsh, glass bottle. I took a deep breath and watched the magical white seeds dance and twirl with the sun’s rays further and further away. I made a wish -  a wish to never let her go.

This ending is wonderful - Especially the last few sentences. It really rounds it off wonderfully. The comparison between the dandelion and the bottle is great. You've done yourself proud!

[answerspls]

Hey, does this relate enough to discovery.

Spoiler

The path
The path, a mystical passage way through the deepest of the forests. Where the darkness walks and owls howl, where even the brave fear, and the fearless cry. Ever since the trees have been blooming around The Path, everyone who dared enter has never walked out. Ever. Do they live or do they die? Do they become ghosts or do they pass into afterlife? Every year, 4th of April, four human beings are chosen by the company to crawl into the gate that leads into the path. They are known as the ‘Ghostly four’.
“Gather around everyone, today might be the day where the gods are woken and the dead are dead” the announcements read as the crowd gathers around the gate in fear. “The four brave, fearless and the strongest will be announced shortly”. Guns, garlic, pepper spray and every weapon invented was loaded onto the truck. “Hilton Bagwell, Anna Bow, Fred Lish and lucky last…” the death list was interrupted by an unwelcome pause, “lucky last isss Rose Seff.” Tears filled the atmosphere, and the wailing could have been heard by the ghosts of the Ghostly fours. The four teens prepared to walk into the lion’s den, hoping they were the lions and not the prey.
“Are you all ready?”
The torch highlighted Hiltons face freaking everyone out.
“Keep your ears open and your eyes on”
“ON, seriously you think this is funny. I’m pissing my pants here. I already miss my parents and brother and even that chick with the weird face.” Squealed Anna.
“You should would be at the front, you squeal will scare away all the ghosts”
The two quiet peeps Rose and Fred wailed from the shadows of the sun.

After four gruesome hours of crawling over skeletons of trees and hiding from the wailing winds the Ghostly four arrived at a two way path. “One may pass, the other may die, one may fly and the other may cry.” was carved onto a tree post between the roads. “I begs passing” cried all but Fred. “That makes no sense” replied Fred staring into the wilderness of nowhere. To increase their chances of survival, if any the ghostly four became the ghostly two. Anna followed Hilton on the left while Fred followed Rose along the right path.

“Why the hell did you come with me then” yelled Hilton into the weeping eyes of Anna. “We all miss our families, shit happens OK”. The heartbroken girl was startled by a shadow in the darkness causing her to jump on Hilton. Both rolled down what felt like a steep hill. Bruised and bleeding the two stumbled onto their other half of the ghostly four. Fred and Rose lay with a spotlight hanging over them as they tried to unlock the cage. A note instructed Hilton and Anna to kill the birds in the cage to ensure their own safety and be able to continue their journey freely. The darkness had sparked a light in between the four saving the lives of two innocents.
Helping the birds escape, the friends now quickly raced as far from the thought of being captured. As Fred and Rose lead the way leaving Hilton and Anna out of breath. The distance allowed the capture of Hilton and Anna. “Who is this, why are you doing this” Rose’s panicked voice shouted through peaceful quietness. In tears the Fred and Rose tumbled onto a waterfall. A plane awaited them nearby. The ghostly two faced a decision, whether to leave their brother and sister in the forest or return to find and rescue them. Without thinking the two piloted the plane scouring the through the tree tops looking for two ants on the ground.
BOOM!! A fireball was blown into the sky right above the waterfall. “They are trying to kill us Fred” the panicky queen was back at it again. “I think Hilton and Anna just saved us again, or we would have been dead”.
“You mean dead again”
“Yep, now we definitely can’t leave them.”

Through the long branches another fireball was unleashed. The ghostly four reunited as the wheels skidded to halt. Without any concerns, they flew back over the waterfall through the dark smoke clouds. After 40 short mile a small runway requested the ghostly four landed on it. A haunted grave welcomed them as a male figure walked out the small house in the corner.
“Congratulations, you have passed the test” the old man answered the unasked questions. “A test designed to build friendships and care about each other. To show the world what path should be taken in order to survive. We must all be in this together and help each other out.”
“The cage, the plane was to see if we left them there.”  Fred cleared the atmosphere. “Leave them in the cage and we all die, take the plane and we would have blown up.”

Mod Edit: Added spoiler

[jamonwindeyer]

Hey, does this relate enough to discovery.

Spoiler

The path
The path, a mystical passage way through the deepest of the forests. Where the darkness walks and owls howl, where even the brave fear, and the fearless cry. Ever since the trees have been blooming around The Path, everyone who dared enter has never walked out. Ever. Do they live or do they die? Do they become ghosts or do they pass into afterlife? Every year, 4th of April, four human beings are chosen by the company to crawl into the gate that leads into the path. They are known as the ‘Ghostly four’.
“Gather around everyone, today might be the day where the gods are woken and the dead are dead” the announcements read as the crowd gathers around the gate in fear. “The four brave, fearless and the strongest will be announced shortly”. Guns, garlic, pepper spray and every weapon invented was loaded onto the truck. “Hilton Bagwell, Anna Bow, Fred Lish and lucky last…” the death list was interrupted by an unwelcome pause, “lucky last isss Rose Seff.” Tears filled the atmosphere, and the wailing could have been heard by the ghosts of the Ghostly fours. The four teens prepared to walk into the lion’s den, hoping they were the lions and not the prey.
“Are you all ready?”
The torch highlighted Hiltons face freaking everyone out.
“Keep your ears open and your eyes on”
“ON, seriously you think this is funny. I’m pissing my pants here. I already miss my parents and brother and even that chick with the weird face.” Squealed Anna.
“You should would be at the front, you squeal will scare away all the ghosts”
The two quiet peeps Rose and Fred wailed from the shadows of the sun.

After four gruesome hours of crawling over skeletons of trees and hiding from the wailing winds the Ghostly four arrived at a two way path. “One may pass, the other may die, one may fly and the other may cry.” was carved onto a tree post between the roads. “I begs passing” cried all but Fred. “That makes no sense” replied Fred staring into the wilderness of nowhere. To increase their chances of survival, if any the ghostly four became the ghostly two. Anna followed Hilton on the left while Fred followed Rose along the right path.

“Why the hell did you come with me then” yelled Hilton into the weeping eyes of Anna. “We all miss our families, shit happens OK”. The heartbroken girl was startled by a shadow in the darkness causing her to jump on Hilton. Both rolled down what felt like a steep hill. Bruised and bleeding the two stumbled onto their other half of the ghostly four. Fred and Rose lay with a spotlight hanging over them as they tried to unlock the cage. A note instructed Hilton and Anna to kill the birds in the cage to ensure their own safety and be able to continue their journey freely. The darkness had sparked a light in between the four saving the lives of two innocents.
Helping the birds escape, the friends now quickly raced as far from the thought of being captured. As Fred and Rose lead the way leaving Hilton and Anna out of breath. The distance allowed the capture of Hilton and Anna. “Who is this, why are you doing this” Rose’s panicked voice shouted through peaceful quietness. In tears the Fred and Rose tumbled onto a waterfall. A plane awaited them nearby. The ghostly two faced a decision, whether to leave their brother and sister in the forest or return to find and rescue them. Without thinking the two piloted the plane scouring the through the tree tops looking for two ants on the ground.
BOOM!! A fireball was blown into the sky right above the waterfall. “They are trying to kill us Fred” the panicky queen was back at it again. “I think Hilton and Anna just saved us again, or we would have been dead”.
“You mean dead again”
“Yep, now we definitely can’t leave them.”

Through the long branches another fireball was unleashed. The ghostly four reunited as the wheels skidded to halt. Without any concerns, they flew back over the waterfall through the dark smoke clouds. After 40 short mile a small runway requested the ghostly four landed on it. A haunted grave welcomed them as a male figure walked out the small house in the corner.
“Congratulations, you have passed the test” the old man answered the unasked questions. “A test designed to build friendships and care about each other. To show the world what path should be taken in order to survive. We must all be in this together and help each other out.”
“The cage, the plane was to see if we left them there.”  Fred cleared the atmosphere. “Leave them in the cage and we all die, take the plane and we would have blown up.”

Hey answerpls! Welcome to the forums!!

Thanks for posting your creative, but unfortunately you need 15 posts on ATAR Notes for every essay/creative you'd like marked! This is to ensure that the markers have time to give proper feedback to active members of the forums; one line feedback doesn't help anyone hang around the forums for a bit, ask questions and maybe answer them, and you'll build up the post count really quick!

[Blissfulmelodii]

hey 
So I wrote this for my first assessment task and used it for my trials. Each time the marking teacher has marked my discovery creative writing piece differently and has given me different opinions on it hence i am very confused at the moment (i.e. one of them called it charming and gave me full marks while the other gave me a B and said it didn't focus enough on discovery). Initially I thought doing something simple would be best to fit the word count however I'm now worried that my story is too simple and I should just write another... I would greatly appreciate if i could get some feedback on how to improve this story or whether I should just throw it away and use a different one.

Spoiler

CREATIVE PIECE
Every new school year that comes around you get a fresh batch of new faces, a fresh batch of uncontaminated and naďve minds but sometimes you get lucky. One person comes along who flips your world upside down, that reminds you why it is you do what you do.

As I walked into the room all went still. I took my seat and observed the scene before me. Natural light filtered in through the open windows all along the right side of the room, the drip, drip, drip of the tap at the back filled the empty silence, the sink stacked high with unwashed pallets and brushes and the students’ expectant gazes fell on me, instinctively wondering what this course had in store for them.

It’s always refreshing to see a group of young people enthused by art, who are completely ready to dedicate their entire lives to it. I’ve always thought of art as a means to provide opportunities for self-expression, bringing the inner world into the outer world of concrete reality, however those that do well are the ones who able to gain inspiration from their own experiences and their own inner conflict. Something these students would have to quickly learn.

As the period came to an end I quickly informed the class of their next task before they were all out the door.

xxx

As the sun set, the sky was nothing more than shades of purple and orange, there was an eerie feel in the air as a slight breeze whipped back and forth through the branches of the trees along the pathway on which I was walking. All was silent as the last of the students left campus to return to their rooms, or wherever it is they go after dark.

“So this is where you go to hide away from the world?”

“No, it’s where I go to escape into the world.”

I looked over her shoulder and peered at the sketchbook sitting snugly on her lap, her hands shook as she tightly gripped the pencil. The page was smudged with disconnected lines and scratches of words that I couldn’t quick read, the frustration clear from her posture and by her sudden sigh of defeat.

“You know, I only handed that task out today? You have two weeks to complete it.”

“I know, um I just wanted to try and get a start before I completely lose all my motivation-“ She laughed humourlessly “clearly it isn’t going well, I guess I never realised how much I relied on my sight.”

I nodded empathetically and took a seat beside her.

“The great thing about art is that it can come in many different forms, it isn’t about copying what’s already there but more being able to interpret and recreate what already exists, to give something which we all know a new meaning. So you can’t see. Find another way to interpret the world… here, give me your hand.”

Hesitantly she lifted her hand up; I placed mine over the top of hers and slowly lowered it to the ground, quietly instructing her to utilise her other senses to create an image in her mind.

I lifted my hand and placed it beside hers, following the path that she was tracing. My fingers slid across the damp ground and as it did I could feel every blade of grass slide through my fingers and each individual grain of dirt attaching itself to my hand as it continued on. I felt the hairs on my arm lift slightly as a cool breeze swept passed in that moment carrying with it fallen leaves, the smell of damp earth and a sweet tinge of some unidentifiable flower. The sound of the rustling of the branches and the distinct lack of bird calls made the late hour quite obvious. I heard my steady breathe mix in with hers as I continued to take in my surroundings. The more that I began to physically notice, the more of an image I could start to visualise, which I also hope Clarity was able to do.

A short moment passed and I opened my eyes to see Clarity digging through her backpack beside her, sketchpad and pencil long forgotten. Curiously I waited as she finally found what she was searching for; she pulled out a small block of clay from her bag and began to manipulate the substance still keeping her eyes firmly shut. I watched mesmerised by the precise movements of her hands as if they had a life of their own, as I got up quietly to leave her be I momentarily looked back to see a small smile on her face and was reminded why it is I do what I do.

Mod Edit: Added Spoiler

[jamonwindeyer]

hey 
So I wrote this for my first assessment task and used it for my trials. Each time the marking teacher has marked my discovery creative writing piece differently and has given me different opinions on it hence i am very confused at the moment (i.e. one of them called it charming and gave me full marks while the other gave me a B and said it didn't focus enough on discovery). Initially I thought doing something simple would be best to fit the word count however I'm now worried that my story is too simple and I should just write another... I would greatly appreciate if i could get some feedback on how to improve this story or whether I should just throw it away and use a different one.

Hey blissful! Thanks for posting your creative, but unfortunately you need 15 posts on ATAR Notes for every essay/creative you'd like marked! This is to ensure that the markers have time to give proper feedback to active members of the forums; one line feedback doesn't help anyone hang around the forums for a bit, ask questions and maybe answer them, and you'll build up the post count really quick!

On the mark discrepancy though, that's pretty common for Creatives. It is very interpretive, and marks can range by 2-3. You should consider your actual mark as somewhere in the middle, most probably remember, your Creative pieces are double marked, so no stress!! I personally think working with this will work best this close to the exam, if it is already high B (at minimum), definitely no worries getting to an A

Let us know when you reach post count!!

[sarah.murphy]

Hi, sorry i didn't realise there was an AOS creative writing marking page.
But, i haven't looked at my creative in sometime, and i need improvements on it, but just don't know where to start... can someone please help me out?
Thank you in advance

Spoiler

Creative Writing (Discovery)
Peace rings all around the house, its 10pm and finally I can head to my room without being asked to do anything. The floorboards moan as I move to my room. Finally shutting the door and I am done for the day. With a weight on my neck I am horrified by half chewed food on my shirt that my baby brothers spat at me.
Don’t be mistaken, I love them to bits but at times they can be quite a handful, especially when she isn’t around, which is happening even more so when she is in love.
Things got a bit hazy after my dad left. But after a while we could see again and that’s when mum’s eyes were opened to Trevor.

The two love birds have shared a couple of valentines together, with many more to come. Trevor looks the same every day, in a plain light grey suit and white shirt with a tie to match. Every morning he puts on a clean and ironed shirt. One by one he buttons it up and then wraps his tie around his neck and folds it many ways until its tightly around his neck and hanging down his shirt. Each morning I look at him with high aspirations for my dreams. He has opened me to so many paths these last two years, he has showed me the wrongs and rights, but I can always feel this pit in the bottom of my stomach as I know my dad should be doing all of this.

My last memory of dad was his empty, lifeless face that I could see from the back window as mum drove off with a broken family. He wasn’t a family man. One time I asked him to kick a ball outside with me, I know he didn’t want to but I still asked, but it was the reply that killed me inside; I would but you know I would kick further and better and I don’t want to see you hurt. My insides were shattered. It was like my heart was frozen and smashed all over the ground into a thousand of pieces, and I had to try and mend it without cutting my fingers on the sharp edges.  All of this because I just wanted some father son time.

A smash interrupts my thoughts; it has come from Mum and Trevor’s room. With my heart starting to pound at an irregular beat I sprint down the hallway, the floorboards are quiet. Mum’s head is squeezed within a dent of the mirror; the glass edges are sharp and are piercing through mum’s head, her hair is no barrier. Almost pulling the bathroom door off its hinges, mum always tells me not to do that, I get some white towels to help the everlasting gush of blood coming from her head. Trevor is just standing; his face looks familiar to my memory of dad’s face, lifeless and incoherent. My stomach starts churning as I take a quick analysis of what is happened, it feels like a crime scene I have seen on tv. This had to be Trevor, but how. He was so good, he did everything right for our family, he was there, physically and emotionally for our broken family.

With both eyes staring into the soul of Trevor, I get my phone and dial triple 0. It’s a new experience, I’ve never done this before. Flooding the receiver with everything I know from the last five minutes, she tells me that someone is on their way and to just wait.

In the meantime of ‘waiting’ I go and check on my brothers, I had completely forgotten about them. Screeching the door open, they are both still sound asleep, with beautiful happy images of their dreams in the head; I wish I was them.

I open and the door and run outside to the flashing red and blue lights and loud sirens. The lights of my neighbours have also come on. The police officers rush inside and it takes them 2 seconds to see Trevor. They all make awkward eye contact at each other, am I the only person in the room looking at the lady with her head through the mirror. The police call in a ‘312’ and put Trevor in handcuffs. One officer comes over to me and asks if he can use the kitchen to take substance test on Trevor and to let me know that there is someone coming for my mum. I let him know that I have two baby brothers who are finally sound asleep in the other room and ask what I should do with them. He instructs to pack a bag for them and call someone to pick us all up.

As I am fumbling things into a bag in the dark black room of my brothers, trying not to wake them by dropping anything, I realise that I’m going to call my dad to get us away from here. Leaving the dark and back into the scene of the accident I call dad, he is

thrilled to hear from me, but that quickly shifts as I start to relive what has just happened.  He said he is on his way and will see me shortly.
I take this opportunity to go into the kitchen and see what’s happening to Trevor. He is having to breathe into a tube and count to ten, but he stops when I walk into the room, everyone looks directly at me. At once I have 8 peering eyes looking into my eyes and into my soul of distress and complete darkness. An officer takes me out of misery and into the tv room to have a chat. He lets me know that Trevor has had a past of domestic violence and mum’s condition is the minimal. My head starts turning again, domestic violence, domestic violence, but why. Trevor was good on the outside, he did everything right, but why this. I am once again distracted by my thoughts to the paramedics coming in, another police officer escorts them to my mum. The friendly officer sitting next to me lets me know that I don’t have to worry about Trevor as he is going to jail for some time and then into a mental rehab facility.
As my dad storms through the front door he meets me and the officer, I need him. I wrap my hands tight around his waist, I miss him and I start crying into his body. With every tear is a relief let off my shoulders.
We both go and get my brothers, dad picks them up with soft hands, trying not to wake them, I give him mum’s car keys from the wall and he walks them to the car and into their car seats. I am following his every step behind him; he walks straight to mum’s car. I lose track and detour to the kitchen. Trevor is looking into my heart; he is trying to find something with his lifeless eyes. He has nothing. I am all that is left and I’m leaving. With a refocused sight I keep walking to the car. Climbing in, one foot then the next, I take a breath of relief as dad drives off away from the house I once felt confident in.

Mod Edit: Added spoiler

[tahmina]

can someone please look at my creative, not sure if the discovery component is strong!

[jamonwindeyer]

can someone please look at my creative, not sure if the discovery component is strong!

Hey Tahmina! My records show that you need to hit 60 posts to qualify for this creative to be marked!! let us know when you get there (I've deleted the copy of this you posted in the essay marking thread)

[Lottie99]

Hey there,
Any chance that I could get some feedback and a hypothetical mark on this creative writing?
Mainly just around whether the discovery is clear enough and whether it could be adapted.

[tahmina]

hey jam on, i reached 60

[jamonwindeyer]

hey jam on, i reached 60

Your post count only says 57 on the left there!