Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!

[jamonwindeyer]

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

Hey Sarah! 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!

[sarah.murphy]

Hey Sarah! 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!

Hey Sarah! 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!

Oh, i had no idea. Thanks for letting me know, i will do so now 

[jamonwindeyer]

Hi everyone! So exams are right around the corner, and unsurprisingly, there are a HEAP of people wanting feedback on essays/creatives. Given that demand is really high, it is only natural that we will need to increase the post requirement for the coming days, to make sure that our feedback remains of the highest possible quality. Thus, for all essays posted between now (this post) and this time next week, you will need 30 posts for every creative you would like marked. Note that this does not apply to things posted before this point, meaning no one is in post debt. It just means that creatives 'cost more' for the next week. We appreciate your understanding


Note: We will be very harsh on our posting rules over the coming days. Posting in old threads, multi-posting, shit-posting and spamming (etc) to access essay marking won't work. Immediate 48 hour posting bans will be applied in all circumstances

[onepunchboy]

Could you please mark my creative writing piece and give me feedback on it?  Would this story be suitable to tackle a wide variety of stimuli? I was told by a friend that my structure is pretty rigid so it will be hard to adapt this story to a variety of different discovery stimuli. If it is rigid, is there anything that I could fix to make it more open to adaptation? Thankyou very much!

[jamonwindeyer]

Could you please mark my creative writing piece and give me feedback on it?  Would this story be suitable to tackle a wide variety of stimuli? I was told by a friend that my structure is pretty rigid so it will be hard to adapt this story to a variety of different discovery stimuli. If it is rigid, is there anything that I could fix to make it more open to adaptation? Thankyou very much!

Hey hey! Under the current post requirements, you'll need to have 45 posts on the forums to get this marked. Hang around the site for a bit over the weekend! I bet you'll get there real quick!

[Neutron]

Alright well I feel like I really haven't got much to lose (I was scared to post before cause my school would put it through turn it in and I didn't want it to come up and go through the hassle of explaining etc etc) and I value Jamon's advice so here goes nothing! If you guys have time and can have a read of this, that would be great! I understand that it's like 1200 words but tbh my narrative stopped after "To hell with the shareholders, I'm doing this for me" but I tried to extend it a bit more to encompass the impact part of discoveries. I still think I'm not covering enough rubric points though so any feedback would be highly appreciated!

Neutron

[massive]

Guys if a creative writing question asks you to write an imaginative piece on the process of discovery, you can't write about a story that is sudden and unexpected, can you? Also how do even show the process of discovery in a story?

Thanks!

[jamonwindeyer]

Guys if a creative writing question asks you to write an imaginative piece on the process of discovery, you can't write about a story that is sudden and unexpected, can you? Also how do even show the process of discovery in a story?

Thanks!

You could show an unexpected event that triggers a process of Discovery! That works well, you can pretty much make any sort of scenario work so long as you frame it right

There is no one way to 'show' the process of Discovery, it would simply be a matter of a Creative which highlights aspects of a Discovery, perhaps its aftereffects? Take a peek at some of the responses above for some ideas on this

[studybuddy7777]

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

Hahaha Im sure elyse would have more valuable feedback for me anyway 

Actually I'm kidding Jamon, you are the absolute bees knees and you abuse your priviledges and power of a nat mod!

[elysepopplewell]

Oh sorry thank you!

HEY THERE! Sorry this took a few days. Things have been a bit crazy!
The feedback is in the spoiler here:

Spoiler

The ectopic rhythm of the heartbeats pounding through my chest can be heard all the way from earth.
Preparing myself, I move cautiously towards the rack by the door. I pull down the helmet at the top, feeling the rough material strewn across the neckline with my fingers. Placing the helmet over my head was always slightly claustrophobic, as if I was choosing to limit my life force to a pipe filled with a finite amount of oxygen on my back. Although I see what you're doing here - writing "as if I was choosing..." and I kind of think - that is what you are literally choosing? So perhaps just rewrite this so that perhaps the protagonist actually acknowledges the perhaps irony of limiting himself to a helmet, despite extending himself beyond Earth? I twist the helmet side to side, searching for the click which told me it was fastened. I'd go for somethign more like, "waiting for the fastening click." I think it just tidies it up a little bit A moment of suffocation follows, before a gush of air fills the sphere around my eyes. I choke for a second, unaccustomed to the large quantity of air, before calming myself with deep breaths. nice!
Initiating the anxious process, I pull the main lever and begin to input the codes; red, blue, green. I reach for each button in turn, missing at first, before steadying my hand and continuing.  Finally, I place my shaking fingers on the tactically tightened latch, and cautiously start to turn it. A nerve-wracking creak betrays a small sigh of oxygen breaching the seal between mankind and outer space.

Tightly shutting my eyes, I anticipate the worst outcome. I gasp for air, not having realised that I was holding my breath. Leaning onto an uncovered button, the ship releases a mechanical noise as numerous steel steps dispense in front of me like a flower’s blossoming petals.
Slowly.
Purposefully. 
My languid legs lead the original pathway. I am the first person.
Fearful to experience the untouched surface we have landed on.
The rough terrain meets my weary eyes. Ancient, dirt covered gorges, deep enough to avoid exploration, edges steep as Mount Everest, radiate a vibrant colour matching the neighbouring sun. Lining their banks, oceans of sharp jagged edged rocks tell stories of elongated years of endurance on this planet of isolation through their layers of sediment. They glisten with the orange, toxic gas that marks the earth of this planet - beautiful obstacles for my time-limited mission.
As I walk, the white Kevlar fabric encasing my swollen feet sprinkles with the flame coloured soil, irreversibly staining them. The craggy highland towers on the horizon, swimming in the white blanket of fog that covers the rest of the planet. Its peaks are jagged towards the top, covered with obtuse shapes that glisten in the sunless light. Below, steep, dusty slopes cascade towards the serrated earth.
The sly mist hugs my ankles with every stride I take towards it. It wraps me in its cold embrace, sweeping me along to the edge of the planet where I could fall off and swim among the stars.
In the peripheral of my eye, I see it. The ingeniously built piece of metal rolls towards me using the thinly sliced rubber circles attached gently to the metallic undergarments of the machine. Its head composed of a high definition camera along with the extended clamps secured to its front giving it a stereotypically childish appearance.
“The rob…rob…robot”
The anxious voice coming from my protective apparel interrupts my prolonged gaze and reminds me of my mission: delivering the vehicle to the mountains with their opaque flag of mist. I'm wondering if they would actually be identifying the robot in shaky terms if it were a real astronaut. I'm only being critical of your work because there's very else little to comment on because it's all flowing nicely! But, I think if the astronaut were alone, they wouldn't be identifying the obvious like that to themselves. I'd be more inclined to just put it out of dialogue, because you're in the first person narration anyway
My feet suddenly feel the toughness of the minerals covering the ground. I look down and am met with an explanation. I have arrived. My field of vision is too minuscule to absorb the enormous alp standing in front of me and yet I push forward.
I trek with measured steps, up the slope. Left. Right. Left. Right. The steady rocks perfectly aligned for my grip over the crumbling dirt.
Looking down behind me, the distant fog still blocks the view, yet the ground is visible. My exhaustion is clinging to my back. The endless training I endured feels non-beneficial as my contracted muscles threaten to tear my cracked skin with every small step I take.
I take my dilated eyes off the treacherous ground and look up to see the cloudy obstruction to my sight vanishing. My feet begin to fumble, and suddenly, a close-up view of the crusty floor meets my eyes. I stay down - a chance to examine the foreign land. My pupils turn slowly, careful to not miss a speck of treasure.
A rusty circular object flashes in the peripheral of my vision.
Moving closer, its dented edges and scratch-filled skin become visible. The black, rippled plastic coats majority of the device, with silver buttons joined to the top, and specks of aged, glimmering gold within the edges. As if a fossil, the ground sheathes it, outlining the letters “f.l.a.s.h.” on one of the main buttons and “on/off” on the other. I turn my head slightly to see on the side in big, slanted font: “Nikon 1935”.
Its decayed state doesn’t stop my confused expression from reflecting in the blemished, glass-plated mirror attached to the outer front of the contraption.
What seems to be a golden-plated emblem on the right hand corner shines, as if brand new, with four letters engraved on it: MARS.

I think a physical discovery is there, absolutely and clearly. And the story is written really well in that I can follow it without being distracted or confused. Where it lacks is complexity. Because it has one linear story structure, it doesn't give much room to explore other notions of discovery without some serious adjustment, and it does leave the storyline missing that "engaging" section. I am engaged because it is well written and fluid to read, but I'm not engaged because of the simplicity. Perhaps what you need is a metaphor or motive. By embedding a motif or metaphor early on, you thread some complexity throughout. Alternatively, giving the character a PURPOSE will give the story more direction. Are they doing it for their daughter? For huamnkind? For USA? To finalise their years of research? Whatever it may be, you need to jump at the opportunity to make a small change like adding a motive at the beginning and end, just to add that extra level of personality so that your character is more identifiable to a marker. I hope this makes sense, let me know if you have questions

[elysepopplewell]

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

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.

Heya! You've noted a part in italics, but the italics haven't copied over to the thread here - so I can't comment on it because I can't see it! No you don't need a title - it has never been a criticism or praise from the marking centre. And I usually feel uncomfortable giving a mark out of 15 because I'm not an official marker, I'm just a reader of the mark, so I give feedback based on the audience's experience I'll give it a crack, though! But don't take my mark as anything definitive.

Spoiler

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 I'm just not sure this is the right word? Tears assisted him? 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. I'd put a new paragraph here 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. I like the "a few pages later" - it emphasises the importance of the photo album. 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?" This is a bit random - it increases the understanding of some kind of bipolar-like experience, but it doesn't detail it enough to create an emotion from the reader I think. If you haven't experienced something like this yourself, I'd do some quick googling to get some accounts of people who have suffered something similar, just so that you can add an extra sentence or two on top of the ice cream sentence and really flesh out the battle in two minds, in the same head. I think that's a really important entry point for a marker to relate to the work. 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. Do you mean blue as in down/sad or blue as in angry? I think it's too ambiguous. There's the expression "I'm feeling blue" and there's also the expression "I'm so angry I could argue this until I'm blue in the face" which is why I'm not sure how you want it to be interpreted. 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. New paragraph.He whirled around and saw not sure about this word - saw indicates that he visually spotted the spirit. I think that this creates the idea that the protagonist is a medium, rather than just someone experiencing a very touching time. Feeling the spirit is more relatable than seeing it. If you want to make it so that he saw the spirit, then I'd be putting that questioning about whether or not he saw it or if his mind just painted her in front of him soon, but not yet. 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 this is just a little too clinical. and stepped outside.  He opened the door for the first time in many years. It scraped the frame it has hugged for years, and dust platooned form the tight seal. << This indicates the same thing, but it shows and doesn't tell.

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. Perhaps flesh out this battle a bit more? What did he go through physically and mentally to get to the park? We've got the trio of "outside" sentences above, but I think here you could talk about the times you wanted to turn around, the times you wanted to just run to the park to get it over with, etc. Just something little, but I think we just make a bit of a jump and its a missed opportunity to engage the marker. 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 loooove this and he comes to the realisation that he can no longer live locked up his whole life, in his self created jail cell. I'd be more inclined to take the imagery away from a jail cell because that connotes punishment, and instead, talk about it like a swaddle. Something that's protective and tight. Because to him, the house is that safe place, not a punishment. But now, outside, he is realising that he can also feel safe and protected outside. The presence of his mother is what provides the safety and support. /b]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, probably a bit too colloquial - perhaps "for the first time since the..." and choose however you want to phrase it. he feels as though he can do anything he sets his mind to.  The change in tense here is really nice.

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

Contextually - I'm wondering how this person got such a complex about their mum's protection and presence. But, the story works without it. It could be a potential opportunity to raise ethos for the character by providing the trauma that caused this, but you could also fall into the trap of being a cliche trauma. So if you do pursue this, you'd need to be careful. But, it is something that you can add for very little effort and potentially great results. I don't feel the need to know about the dad - I think it's not relevant. I don't assume people have ever lived with both parents, so it wasn't a big question mark where I was wondering about the dad.

Otherwise, I think this is great. My only suggestions are throughout where I've suggested ways to enhance the plot with a few extra sentences. I'd put this as a band 5 because the story line is original, the discovery is meaningful, transformative, physical, spiritual, emotional, intellectual, etc. But, I think it is missing a few opportunities to lift the ethos of the protagonist, and also a tiny tiny bit more complexity in the character's life.

Hope this helps! Good luck!

[lha]

HEY THERE! Sorry this took a few days. Things have been a bit crazy!
The feedback is in the spoiler here:

Spoiler

The ectopic rhythm of the heartbeats pounding through my chest can be heard all the way from earth.
Preparing myself, I move cautiously towards the rack by the door. I pull down the helmet at the top, feeling the rough material strewn across the neckline with my fingers. Placing the helmet over my head was always slightly claustrophobic, as if I was choosing to limit my life force to a pipe filled with a finite amount of oxygen on my back. Although I see what you're doing here - writing "as if I was choosing..." and I kind of think - that is what you are literally choosing? So perhaps just rewrite this so that perhaps the protagonist actually acknowledges the perhaps irony of limiting himself to a helmet, despite extending himself beyond Earth? I twist the helmet side to side, searching for the click which told me it was fastened. I'd go for somethign more like, "waiting for the fastening click." I think it just tidies it up a little bit A moment of suffocation follows, before a gush of air fills the sphere around my eyes. I choke for a second, unaccustomed to the large quantity of air, before calming myself with deep breaths. nice!
Initiating the anxious process, I pull the main lever and begin to input the codes; red, blue, green. I reach for each button in turn, missing at first, before steadying my hand and continuing.  Finally, I place my shaking fingers on the tactically tightened latch, and cautiously start to turn it. A nerve-wracking creak betrays a small sigh of oxygen breaching the seal between mankind and outer space.

Tightly shutting my eyes, I anticipate the worst outcome. I gasp for air, not having realised that I was holding my breath. Leaning onto an uncovered button, the ship releases a mechanical noise as numerous steel steps dispense in front of me like a flower’s blossoming petals.
Slowly.
Purposefully. 
My languid legs lead the original pathway. I am the first person.
Fearful to experience the untouched surface we have landed on.
The rough terrain meets my weary eyes. Ancient, dirt covered gorges, deep enough to avoid exploration, edges steep as Mount Everest, radiate a vibrant colour matching the neighbouring sun. Lining their banks, oceans of sharp jagged edged rocks tell stories of elongated years of endurance on this planet of isolation through their layers of sediment. They glisten with the orange, toxic gas that marks the earth of this planet - beautiful obstacles for my time-limited mission.
As I walk, the white Kevlar fabric encasing my swollen feet sprinkles with the flame coloured soil, irreversibly staining them. The craggy highland towers on the horizon, swimming in the white blanket of fog that covers the rest of the planet. Its peaks are jagged towards the top, covered with obtuse shapes that glisten in the sunless light. Below, steep, dusty slopes cascade towards the serrated earth.
The sly mist hugs my ankles with every stride I take towards it. It wraps me in its cold embrace, sweeping me along to the edge of the planet where I could fall off and swim among the stars.
In the peripheral of my eye, I see it. The ingeniously built piece of metal rolls towards me using the thinly sliced rubber circles attached gently to the metallic undergarments of the machine. Its head composed of a high definition camera along with the extended clamps secured to its front giving it a stereotypically childish appearance.
“The rob…rob…robot”
The anxious voice coming from my protective apparel interrupts my prolonged gaze and reminds me of my mission: delivering the vehicle to the mountains with their opaque flag of mist. I'm wondering if they would actually be identifying the robot in shaky terms if it were a real astronaut. I'm only being critical of your work because there's very else little to comment on because it's all flowing nicely! But, I think if the astronaut were alone, they wouldn't be identifying the obvious like that to themselves. I'd be more inclined to just put it out of dialogue, because you're in the first person narration anyway
My feet suddenly feel the toughness of the minerals covering the ground. I look down and am met with an explanation. I have arrived. My field of vision is too minuscule to absorb the enormous alp standing in front of me and yet I push forward.
I trek with measured steps, up the slope. Left. Right. Left. Right. The steady rocks perfectly aligned for my grip over the crumbling dirt.
Looking down behind me, the distant fog still blocks the view, yet the ground is visible. My exhaustion is clinging to my back. The endless training I endured feels non-beneficial as my contracted muscles threaten to tear my cracked skin with every small step I take.
I take my dilated eyes off the treacherous ground and look up to see the cloudy obstruction to my sight vanishing. My feet begin to fumble, and suddenly, a close-up view of the crusty floor meets my eyes. I stay down - a chance to examine the foreign land. My pupils turn slowly, careful to not miss a speck of treasure.
A rusty circular object flashes in the peripheral of my vision.
Moving closer, its dented edges and scratch-filled skin become visible. The black, rippled plastic coats majority of the device, with silver buttons joined to the top, and specks of aged, glimmering gold within the edges. As if a fossil, the ground sheathes it, outlining the letters “f.l.a.s.h.” on one of the main buttons and “on/off” on the other. I turn my head slightly to see on the side in big, slanted font: “Nikon 1935”.
Its decayed state doesn’t stop my confused expression from reflecting in the blemished, glass-plated mirror attached to the outer front of the contraption.
What seems to be a golden-plated emblem on the right hand corner shines, as if brand new, with four letters engraved on it: MARS.

I think a physical discovery is there, absolutely and clearly. And the story is written really well in that I can follow it without being distracted or confused. Where it lacks is complexity. Because it has one linear story structure, it doesn't give much room to explore other notions of discovery without some serious adjustment, and it does leave the storyline missing that "engaging" section. I am engaged because it is well written and fluid to read, but I'm not engaged because of the simplicity. Perhaps what you need is a metaphor or motive. By embedding a motif or metaphor early on, you thread some complexity throughout. Alternatively, giving the character a PURPOSE will give the story more direction. Are they doing it for their daughter? For huamnkind? For USA? To finalise their years of research? Whatever it may be, you need to jump at the opportunity to make a small change like adding a motive at the beginning and end, just to add that extra level of personality so that your character is more identifiable to a marker. I hope this makes sense, let me know if you have questions

Do you have any ideas about how i can introduce the characters purpose? Also, can you tell me a range of what mark i might get? Band 5 or 6? Or band 4 and lower?

[elysepopplewell]

Do you have any ideas about how i can introduce the characters purpose? Also, can you tell me a range of what mark i might get? Band 5 or 6? Or band 4 and lower?

First of all you need to identify what the character's purpose is. You get to make it up! Like I suggested in the original post, it could be deeply personal relating to family. Perhaps it could be about proving people wrong! It could be about doing it for their country, or all in the name of science! I'd start to weave in the purpose early on, put it into their thinking when they are putting on the helmet. Then perhaps a reminder of the motive as they move through the story. Most importantly is that it is rounded off at the end to create that "wow" moment and the extra purpose for discovery! It is also an idea that they could make a personal discovery - where they realise they push their own limits and have extended themselves to places they have never thought they would make it to! So when you say earlier on how this is for mankind, maybe at the end contrast that and say but most importantly, it's for himself, or for his country, or for his colleagues, or his science, etc.

What purpose speaks to you most? Currently, I think it is sitting on a borderline band 5. With the extra purpose, it'll be more engaging for a reader and you'll be in a band 5! I'm not an official HSC marker, of course, I'm better at suggesting things that I am at quantifying an exact mark. But, the purpose will add that little bit more complexity and engagement!

[massive]

You could show an unexpected event that triggers a process of Discovery! That works well, you can pretty much make any sort of scenario work so long as you frame it right

There is no one way to 'show' the process of Discovery, it would simply be a matter of a Creative which highlights aspects of a Discovery, perhaps its aftereffects? Take a peek at some of the responses above for some ideas on this

What does the process of discovery mean? :S

[elysepopplewell]

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.

Hi there! I'll give you an opinion on which band I think it belongs in

Spoiler

Ode to Joy                     Vienna, 18th June 1824

The sun was about to begin her descent, ready to slide down the white-speckled sky. Her arms touched everything, lengthening each shadow. He stood on the wrought iron balcony overlooking the streets of Vienna, hidden in the shadow of the gargoyle that jutted out from the Theatre am Kaerntnertor. Ludwig’s fingers tapped against the warm metal, drawing black dust from it with every motion, and building a crescendo to match the melodies that ran unceasingly through him. 

Below the balcony, people trailed across the cobbled square, lines of movement intersecting like steps to a dance. His eyes drifted to a corner where a dog tied to a post pulled and strained on his leash, teeth glinting in the sun as his mouth snapped against the wind. Standing in the shadow, the barks and snarls were lost on Ludwig - but how he yearned for them. You've done an incredible job so far. I'm engaged, the writing is a pleasure to read, and I'm excited to know where we are going next.

The dog’s face contorted and it pulled back, ready to pounce, launching an attack on all those who came near. The rhythm. That was clear to Ludwig. It was sporadic, snarls that followed no pattern, but his own re-creation of it lacked pitch and timbre. He tried to match the movements to his memories of what the sounds had been. Ludwig imagined those noises, rumbling growls that shook the dog’s body as his own face contorted, trying to mimic the guttural sounds that were now so blatantly hidden from him. Uhhhh, incredible.

In his head all sounds were pure, no clashing voices. But the sounds lacked grit, lacked coarseness and the surprise of the unexpected. The world around him was silent. All Ludwig ever heard were those perfect sounds that he created and tried to desperately communicate on to leafs of paper. It had been twenty years. Twenty years since Ludwig had last performed, and twelve since he last heard.

Shut tight behind Ludwig were gilded wooden doors. Behind them, an empty concert hall, and soon it would fill.
…
As the concert began, Ludwig stood before the musicians, arms weaving, waving, pulling on invisible, inaudible strings. Those that witnessed it would later tell of the times he rose, shrinking at other times to the ground, and moving as if he himself wanted to play all the instruments and sing for the whole chorus.  His body moved, consumed by the music. The air was filled with static and although he could not hear the instruments around him, their vibrations and harmonies resounded within him with the utmost clarity.

For a while he joined their dance; conductor, musicians and instruments one. Swelling, rising, and falling as the chorus heightened - Freude, schoener Goetterfunken- Oh joy, beautiful spark of the Gods.  Beautiful. I love the swelling, rising and falling.

The piece finished, he had turned the last page and the remnants of the melody faded away. Ludwig stood with his shoulders pushed back and his head raised. He saw the exhaustion in the faces of the musicians, spent from their dance. The air became still. Expectant. Vulnerable.
He felt his legs shaking. For a brief, eternal instant nothing made sense. Then he realised it was the floor shaking his legs. The floor was vibrating, rumbling.
Behind Ludwig the thousands rose to their feet in celebration. The theatre shook as feet drummed on the wooden floors. He turned to face the audience. Ludwig watched as handkerchiefs were thrown in the air, hats were raised and arms waved as the audience, tears in their eyes, desperately tried to make their joy known to the deaf composer who stood desolate before them.
…
The party began late and as the room upstairs became crowded with people, Ludwig stepped out of the crowd behind him and onto the balcony. It was still warm; the sun dipping below the horizon, reaching past the houses and theatres with roofs gilding them with her last light. Reaching out towards the metal frame, Ludwig braced himself against it. The last of the sun lit his face, as he looked towards it, the horizon dusty in the evening light.

When he closed his eyes he now saw those white cloths flying and the masses of people, frantic in their excitement. Ludwig turned away from the sun, letting it fall onto his back, leaning against the metal frame of the balcony. Inside those gilded wooden doors that now stood open, people danced. How they moved easily between each other, fluid arms wrapped around shoulders.
The rhythm between the people inside was almost tangible. Their movements hinted at the sounds and music that surrounded them. In each corner there was a hand keeping time or a slight pause in movement each time a crescendo peaked.

On that simple threshold between the dance of the people, inside in the golden light and the now darkening open balcony, Ludwig stood floundering in silence. He reached to the metal bar behind him, tightly clinging to it with one hand as he began to keep time, light taps that mimicked the movements and music on the other side of that door. He kept time easily, not watching the faces but the movements and patterns of the people.

 He had found joy but no way to bridge his world of silence to theirs of joy. He had found divine unity, yet never been so utterly alone. The composer turned away from the crowd of people and their golden light and waited until the last light of the day slipped away with the setting of the sun.

I have no criticism. I'm sorry. Not even a little tiny bit. This is just wonderful. I couldn't stop reading, I probably read it faster than I've ever read a creative. It just flowed through so smoothly. I would undoubtedly give this a band 6. The greatest strength of your work is your ability to articulate clearly and aesthetically. Your second greatest asset is the way you've twisted context and content together to create a really authentic experience. You've done an amazing job, and I'm genuinely trying to find something to critique and I can't. Are there any doubts you have about your work? Perhaps I can address them if I know them. But, from a person who has never read your work, I was truly taken on a journey - and that's your aim! The only problem I see is that it is so wonderful, I wonder how you would go with adapting it? If your writing is naturally this wonderful, I presume that this would be fine. If it has taken a long time to get your writing to this standard, perhaps it's time to look at some past stimulus options and work out how you would authentically embed it into your work. You should be so proud and pleased!