Free AOS Creative Writing Marking!

[elysepopplewell]

Hey. Thanks so much for the feedback! The discovery is that ultimately she realises how serious her life is, and she longs for her childhood. For instance, when shes tired, its meant to be symbolic of how shes tired of her life and the responsibilities she has. For the swimming, her and her brother swam as they found it fun when they were younger but as they grew, it seemed more like something they had to do for others as their mum pushes them to do well. Do you think if I work on your creative and work on the discovery I could at least get 12? Or do you guys not give marks?

By the way, for the creative I read your feedback and I feel that the converstaion with her friend doesn't add meaning [does it?]. SO would it be smart to have her swimming and have the flashbacks to her childhood, that she realises she yearns because of the freedom and joy it filled her with in contrast to her reality.

Thanks so much!!

Okay! I'm following your mind set a bit more here. I do think that there still needs to be some structural adjustments made to emphasise the discovery. Currently, I'm reading this: She's swimming to train for a competition, her brother and her used to swim a lot, she meets an old friend who can't believe she's still swimming after all this time, she suddenly has her brother's goggles on, she's swimming, feeling tired again because she wants to go back to when she was young.

I think there are two main areas for improvement in the structure: Describing the younger days more, and giving her a very intense purposeful awakening towards the end.

You're explaining to me that the younger days were full of freedom, but that doesn't come through to me in the story. In the story I'm seeing that the brother and sister used to swim together, but I don't really know why - I don't know if it was playful in a backyard, at the beach, or was it swimming laps with an instructor? I can't connect to that time before because I don't know enough about it, which is stopping me from appreciating the discovery at the end.

As for the second suggestion - I think at the end she needs to have an awakening that is very clear. The "just keep swimming" (reminds me of Dory) doesn't elucidate a big shift in mindset, it actually suggests continuing the mindset. I'll throw some suggestions out, but of course you should only take what you think is useful. So, she could get to the end and realise that she's only swimming because she's good at it, it's part of her identity, and because people expect it of her...and when she meets her old friend she realises how stagnant she is even though everyone else has changed. To me, this idea of changing all but her would be emphasised better with the adjustment at the start of the story to kind of fertilise the discovery.

I see what you're doing with your story, I just don't think that it's all adding up coherently. Your story is on the verge of getting another layer of meaning, which is exciting. At present, the discovery is a bit weak, but simply by tweaking what you have, rather than changing it all together, we can manipulate new meaning.

[SSSS]

You do not understand how amazing your feedback was!! I wish a teacher would break it down the way you did. I am going to work on my creative based on your feedback, it all makes sense. When you split the story into sections, it made sense that it is not cohesive. So I will work on that, thanks so much!!

[elysepopplewell]

You do not understand how amazing your feedback was!! I wish a teacher would break it down the way you did. I am going to work on my creative based on your feedback, it all makes sense. When you split the story into sections, it made sense that it is not cohesive. So I will work on that, thanks so much!!

Woohoo! So glad to hear this. I'm glad it makes sense Feel free to drop back any time if you have questions. Go well, good luck! 

[SSSS]

Hey! So my creative is due on thursday! Anyways, I wanted to ask that with my narrative, I feel like I have fixed the main issues that you have highlighted and the discovery has improved. Yet I don't think the creative is strong. But the problem is when I try to edit, I am not doing much. What should I do?

[jamonwindeyer]

Hey! So my creative is due on thursday! Anyways, I wanted to ask that with my narrative, I feel like I have fixed the main issues that you have highlighted and the discovery has improved. Yet I don't think the creative is strong. But the problem is when I try to edit, I am not doing much. What should I do?

A bit of a crazy idea, write it again! Meaning put your current draft aside and write the story again on the spot!! Try not to just rewrite your current draft either

The reason I suggest this is that it will force you to break the cyclic pattern of changing a word here, a phrase there, etc. It will generate new ideas, and ultimately get you to look at things in a different light, perhaps figure out why you aren't quite liking your current version you might do something in the new one you love and you can integrate it!

The point being, try to get yourself away from your current version, generate some new ideas, look at things a little differently!

[SSSS]

Hey!! SO I took tour advice and wrote it again, and there is a major difference in my creative!! Thanks so much!! I would really like some feedback onto it, as today is the last time I can work on it before handing it in. Thanks guys for the advice and feedback whenever I'm stuck, much appreciated ! 

Her hand raised from behind her, soaring through the icy air before splashing back into the water. Her other arm followed, while her face remained underwater blowing infinite bubbles. After a few strokes, Emma’s head would turn towards a random side, leaning her head onto her arm for a brief moment, attempting to grasp the air back into her empty lungs. Reluctantly, she would place her head back into the water, forcing her arms on either side to move.

Reaching the edge of the pool, Emma leaned her back onto the cold wall. Closing her eyes, Emma focused onto her breathing. She felt small movements of the water edging towards her, because of the other swimmers reaching the end of the lane.

The image of the crashing waves onto the glossy shore filled Emma’s mind.

Home.

Emma recalled the small beach shack she had lived in every summer. It was so close to the beach, that the scent of the salty water would make her brothers eyes sting. A rich chuckle would erupt from her mother’s small frame every morning at the sight of her brothers red eyes. Apparently it reminded her of her father and how sensitive he was to anything.

“Emma!” turning towards the other side, Emma noticed James, a past friend from years ago.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Still hitting the pools, are you?” his emerald eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights, while his dried lips tugged at the end of his face. 

“Yeah, like the old days,” Emma’s lips slightly turned at the words she had uttered.

“Oh yeah, I remember. How’s it been?” Emma nodded in response.

“Well, while you compete with your razor arms spiralling against the water, I’ll be in the outdoor pools with my mates having fun. I’d tell you to come but I’m assuming your busy,” James innocent smirk began to seem like a smile plastered onto his face, as he wiped his sweaty hands onto his board shorts.

“Oh, you know me so well. See you,” Emma looked towards James, who gave a half smile before exiting the indoor pool with his head rolled forward.

Emma’s lips etched onto the sides of her face, her eyes sparkling at the presence of an old friend. Emma pushed herself through the water, her thoughts pondering onto the memories she had shared with James.

At a young age, Emma and her brother, along with their mother, would be at the beach on a regular basis with other friends including James. The beach was a place that was special for each one of them. The children would giggle over the continuous waves splashing onto the shore, while the parents relaxed under the illuminating sunlight and soft sand under their feet.

Emma turned towards her right, she inhaled with her moth wide open before placing her head back into the water. She attempted to focus onto her task, but the faint memory of her with James and her brother distracted her.

Emma recollected her memories of that one day, where it was only Emma’s family along with James who had went to the beach in order to escape the heat. The moment they were at the beach, Emma, her brother and James ran towards the shore with Emma’s mum treading behind them.

Looking towards each other, they would place their toes into the water, jerking back with a scream as the iciness of the water reached them.

Yet nothing would stop them. They would eagerly walk further into the ocean, where their feet were wet, followed by their knees, till their whole bodies were soaked with their smiles still painted onto their youthful faces.

Touching the cold wall at the end of the lane, Emma waddled in the pool. She pondered onto her conversation with James, that evoked an uneasy feeling within her.

Pinpointing what it was, her eyes widened. The way James shoulders swayed along with his smirk onto his face, reminded Emma of the passion he had towards swimming blurred where his social life seemed more interesting. Her brother had also stopped a while ago, Emma realised. He had begun to focus onto other things in his life.

Emma’s arms crossed over each other, wrapping themselves in a defensive manner. Her thoughts spiralled in her mind. She thought about James and her brother, and the changes they had gone through. Unable to grasp with her realisation, her trembling hands attempted to wipe away the blonde, baby hairs nearing her face. Her wide eyes looked into the distance. With her blue lips parted, all that went through her head was the world around her.

Yet, she questioned herself, why am I swimming? 
 
It didn’t provide her with anything. Her arms yelled in agony, completing the forceful acts of stroking through the water day after day.

But Emma knew. Swimming was something that she had since she was young. Her life had spiralled around her, from different people, homes and schools. 

And as she had clinged onto something she didn’t want, Emma realised. Everyone had moved on. Everyone, but her.

[elysepopplewell]

Hey!! SO I took tour advice and wrote it again, and there is a major difference in my creative!! Thanks so much!! I would really like some feedback onto it, as today is the last time I can work on it before handing it in. Thanks guys for the advice and feedback whenever I'm stuck, much appreciated ! 

Hey! So glad that you're seeing a difference! Sorry that I didn't see this earlier today, but hopefully you've still got some time this afternoon

Spoiler

Her hand raised from behind her, soaring through the icy air before splashing back into the water. Her other arm followed, while her face remained underwater blowing infinite bubbles. After a few strokes, Emma’s head would turn towards a random side, leaning her head onto her arm for a brief moment, attempting to grasp the air back into her empty lungs. Reluctantly, she would place her head back into the water, forcing her arms on either side to move. Nice!

Reaching the edge of the pool, Emma leaned her back onto the cold wall. Closing her eyes, Emma she focused onto her breathing. She felt small movements of the water edging towards her, because of the other swimmers reaching the end of the lane.

The image of the crashing waves onto the glossy shore filled Emma’s mind.

Home.

Emma recalled the small beach shack she had lived in every summer. It was so close to the beach, that the scent of the salty water would make her brothers eyes sting. A rich chuckle would erupt from her mother’s small frame every morning at the sight of her brothers red eyes. Apparently it reminded her of her father and how sensitive he was to anything. I really like this, it gives more depth! Something for a reader to look at with fondness.

“Emma!” turning towards the other side, Emma noticed James, a past friend from years ago. He crouched down at the pool's edge with a grin while Emma swam over. <<Something like this just puts the pieces back together again after the flashback.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Still hitting the pools, are you?” his emerald eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights, I just realised that I assumed she was outside doing laps this entire time. I think you should establish where the pool is earlier, only because we talk about the beach as well and it makes for some confusing imagery. If it's indoors, I don't think you can avoid talking about the smell of chlorine, if it's anything like my local pool.while his dried lips tugged at the end of his face. 

“Yeah, like the old days,” Emma’s lips slightly turned at the words she had uttered.

“Oh yeah, I remember. How’s it been?” Emma nodded in response.

“Well, while you compete with your razor arms spiralling against the water, I’ll be in the outdoor pools with my mates having fun. I’d tell you to come but I’m assuming your busy,” This comes across as a little salty from James, is this your intention? "You're more than welcome to come, but I'm sure you're busy" is less condescending in tone, if you'd prefer to make James like that, but it's up to you! James innocent smirk began to seem like a smile plastered onto his face, as he wiped his sweaty hands onto his board shorts. This bit is super important though - James has so much more importance now in the story, he's now become an integral piece, whereas previously he was a mysterious floating character.

“Oh, you know me so well. See you,” Emma looked towards James, who gave a half smile before exiting the indoor pool with his head rolled forward.

Emma’s lips etched onto the sides of her face, her eyes sparkling at the presence of an old friend. Emma pushed herself through the water, her thoughts pondering onto the memories she had shared with James.

At a young age, Emma and her brother, along with their mother, would be at the beach on a regular basis with other friends including James. The beach was a place that was special for each one of them. The children would giggle over the continuous waves splashing onto the shore, while the parents relaxed under the illuminating sunlight and soft sand under their feet.

Emma turned towards her right, she inhaled with her moth wide open before placing plunging...I don't know why but I feel like plunging works best here. Placing is a bit too graceful, when I think plunging represents some kind of heaviness of her situation as the discovery sets in early. her head back into the water. She attempted to focus onto her task, stroke? but the faint memory of her with James and her brother distracted her.

Emma recollected her memories of that one day, where it was only Emma’s family along with James who had went to the beach in order to escape the heat. The moment they were at the beach, Emma, her brother and James ran towards the shore with Emma’s mum treading behind them.

Looking towards each other, they would place their toes into the water, jerking back with a scream as the iciness of the water reached them.

Yet nothing would stop them. They would eagerly walk further into the ocean, where their feet were wet, followed by their knees, till their whole bodies were soaked with their smiles still painted onto their youthful faces.

Touching the cold wall at the end of the lane, Emma waddled in the pool. She pondered onto her conversation with James, that evoked an uneasy feeling within her.

Pinpointing what it was, her eyes widened. I can't imagine eyes widening without chlorine getting all up in there...maybe this is a spot for a tiny bit of imagery? The way James shoulders swayed along with his smirk onto his face, reminded Emma of the passion he had towards swimming blurred where his social life seemed more interesting. Her brother had also stopped a while ago, Emma realised. He had begun to focus onto other things in his life.

Emma’s arms crossed over each other, wrapping themselves in a defensive manner. Her thoughts spiralled in her mind. She thought about James and her brother, and the changes they had gone through. Unable to grasp with her realisation, her trembling hands attempted to wipe away the blonde, baby hairs nearing her face. Her wide eyes looked into the distance. With her blue lips parted, all that went through her head was the world around her.

Yet, she questioned herself, why am I swimming? 
 
It didn’t provide her with anything. Her arms yelled in agony, completing the forceful acts of stroking through the water day after day.

But Emma knew. Swimming was something that she had since she was young. Her life had spiralled around her, from different people, homes and schools. 

And as she had clinged onto something she didn’t want, Emma realised. Everyone had moved on. Everyone, but her.

Bravo! Wonderfullllll! The ending is so much more wholesome now, it all feels tied together wonderfully! The discovery is so much clearer. I think that you've set yourself in a brilliant position to keep coming back to this story and tweaking it as new ideas come about. Right now, there's not a lot of feedback from me, but I'm really keen to know what your teacher thinks! Then we can go from there, a new perspective to consider, and then we can keep developing the story before half yearlies, trials, and eventually, HSC! You're in a really good spot here because so many students won't have a good creative until half yearlies, but you've got a good one now, and it's just a matter of small tweaks to keep updating it as you get more ideas...more perspective...etc You should be proud of this, you've worked so hard on it!

[SSSS]

Hey! So glad that you're seeing a difference! Sorry that I didn't see this earlier today, but hopefully you've still got some time this afternoon

Spoiler

Her hand raised from behind her, soaring through the icy air before splashing back into the water. Her other arm followed, while her face remained underwater blowing infinite bubbles. After a few strokes, Emma’s head would turn towards a random side, leaning her head onto her arm for a brief moment, attempting to grasp the air back into her empty lungs. Reluctantly, she would place her head back into the water, forcing her arms on either side to move. Nice!

Reaching the edge of the pool, Emma leaned her back onto the cold wall. Closing her eyes, Emma she focused onto her breathing. She felt small movements of the water edging towards her, because of the other swimmers reaching the end of the lane.

The image of the crashing waves onto the glossy shore filled Emma’s mind.

Home.

Emma recalled the small beach shack she had lived in every summer. It was so close to the beach, that the scent of the salty water would make her brothers eyes sting. A rich chuckle would erupt from her mother’s small frame every morning at the sight of her brothers red eyes. Apparently it reminded her of her father and how sensitive he was to anything. I really like this, it gives more depth! Something for a reader to look at with fondness.

“Emma!” turning towards the other side, Emma noticed James, a past friend from years ago. He crouched down at the pool's edge with a grin while Emma swam over. <<Something like this just puts the pieces back together again after the flashback.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Still hitting the pools, are you?” his emerald eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights, I just realised that I assumed she was outside doing laps this entire time. I think you should establish where the pool is earlier, only because we talk about the beach as well and it makes for some confusing imagery. If it's indoors, I don't think you can avoid talking about the smell of chlorine, if it's anything like my local pool.while his dried lips tugged at the end of his face. 

“Yeah, like the old days,” Emma’s lips slightly turned at the words she had uttered.

“Oh yeah, I remember. How’s it been?” Emma nodded in response.

“Well, while you compete with your razor arms spiralling against the water, I’ll be in the outdoor pools with my mates having fun. I’d tell you to come but I’m assuming your busy,” This comes across as a little salty from James, is this your intention? "You're more than welcome to come, but I'm sure you're busy" is less condescending in tone, if you'd prefer to make James like that, but it's up to you! James innocent smirk began to seem like a smile plastered onto his face, as he wiped his sweaty hands onto his board shorts. This bit is super important though - James has so much more importance now in the story, he's now become an integral piece, whereas previously he was a mysterious floating character.

“Oh, you know me so well. See you,” Emma looked towards James, who gave a half smile before exiting the indoor pool with his head rolled forward.

Emma’s lips etched onto the sides of her face, her eyes sparkling at the presence of an old friend. Emma pushed herself through the water, her thoughts pondering onto the memories she had shared with James.

At a young age, Emma and her brother, along with their mother, would be at the beach on a regular basis with other friends including James. The beach was a place that was special for each one of them. The children would giggle over the continuous waves splashing onto the shore, while the parents relaxed under the illuminating sunlight and soft sand under their feet.

Emma turned towards her right, she inhaled with her moth wide open before placing plunging...I don't know why but I feel like plunging works best here. Placing is a bit too graceful, when I think plunging represents some kind of heaviness of her situation as the discovery sets in early. her head back into the water. She attempted to focus onto her task, stroke? but the faint memory of her with James and her brother distracted her.

Emma recollected her memories of that one day, where it was only Emma’s family along with James who had went to the beach in order to escape the heat. The moment they were at the beach, Emma, her brother and James ran towards the shore with Emma’s mum treading behind them.

Looking towards each other, they would place their toes into the water, jerking back with a scream as the iciness of the water reached them.

Yet nothing would stop them. They would eagerly walk further into the ocean, where their feet were wet, followed by their knees, till their whole bodies were soaked with their smiles still painted onto their youthful faces.

Touching the cold wall at the end of the lane, Emma waddled in the pool. She pondered onto her conversation with James, that evoked an uneasy feeling within her.

Pinpointing what it was, her eyes widened. I can't imagine eyes widening without chlorine getting all up in there...maybe this is a spot for a tiny bit of imagery? The way James shoulders swayed along with his smirk onto his face, reminded Emma of the passion he had towards swimming blurred where his social life seemed more interesting. Her brother had also stopped a while ago, Emma realised. He had begun to focus onto other things in his life.

Emma’s arms crossed over each other, wrapping themselves in a defensive manner. Her thoughts spiralled in her mind. She thought about James and her brother, and the changes they had gone through. Unable to grasp with her realisation, her trembling hands attempted to wipe away the blonde, baby hairs nearing her face. Her wide eyes looked into the distance. With her blue lips parted, all that went through her head was the world around her.

Yet, she questioned herself, why am I swimming? 
 
It didn’t provide her with anything. Her arms yelled in agony, completing the forceful acts of stroking through the water day after day.

But Emma knew. Swimming was something that she had since she was young. Her life had spiralled around her, from different people, homes and schools. 

And as she had clinged onto something she didn’t want, Emma realised. Everyone had moved on. Everyone, but her.

Bravo! Wonderfullllll! The ending is so much more wholesome now, it all feels tied together wonderfully! The discovery is so much clearer. I think that you've set yourself in a brilliant position to keep coming back to this story and tweaking it as new ideas come about. Right now, there's not a lot of feedback from me, but I'm really keen to know what your teacher thinks! Then we can go from there, a new perspective to consider, and then we can keep developing the story before half yearlies, trials, and eventually, HSC! You're in a really good spot here because so many students won't have a good creative until half yearlies, but you've got a good one now, and it's just a matter of small tweaks to keep updating it as you get more ideas...more perspective...etc You should be proud of this, you've worked so hard on it!

Oh my god!! I was jumping because of your feedback!! I was stressing but now I am more relaxed as I didn't think it was good. Thank you SO MUCH for the continious feedback as my creative wouldn't be what it was without your incredible help! I'll work on the feedback and print off for tomorrow!! THANK YOU!

[elysepopplewell]

Oh my god!! I was jumping because of your feedback!! I was stressing but now I am more relaxed as I didn't think it was good. Thank you SO MUCH for the continious feedback as my creative wouldn't be what it was without your incredible help! I'll work on the feedback and print off for tomorrow!! THANK YOU!

Woohoo! I'm so glad I could help I'm really keen to know what your teacher thinks of it! Again...it's early days. Which is what makes this so good, if this is just the beginning, it's going to go great places! 

[deanna.chamanaev]

Hey Hey can you please check if it makes sense?? I have had no feedback from my teacher please help a girl out. Thankyou so much!!

Creative

“I’m sorry, the results indicate you won’t be able to have a child.”
You would expect in this moment some heartbreaking emotional display right? Whether that be the classic ‘waterfall’ of tears, as the doctor tries to calm your blubbering with the prepared offer of Aloe Vera infused tissues. Or perhaps the stuttering of speech as you try to grasp what you just heard, hoping its just a very sick sense of humour. However it wasn’t my face that held a look of surprise and bewilderment that fine day, but instead Doctor Williams’, the poor man not knowing what to do with his newly bought box of tissues.
For the sound that filled that canary-coloured room, was laughter.
~~~~
I remember my seventh birthday party. I remember the array of coloured balloons strewn across the backyard. I remember the bedazzled crown I got to wear as I smiled a proud smile though my two front teeth were missing. I remember the sprinkled fairy bread I ate and the marshmallows that charred over the fire pit and the squeaky boing the trampoline made when it was given attention. But mostly I remember the amount of dolls I got gifted. From the modern Malibu Barbie in her pink beach attire to a vintage Victorian doll dressed in white satin and a lace bonnet to cover her brunette curls. And while young me was grateful for these new possessions, I hadn’t a clue to what they were for. I couldn't fathom how they could bring anyone entertainment until I let our Rottweiler Pup use Barbie as a chew toy. I was later told these dolls were supposed to be my children and me their mother that would care and lavish them with a variety of garments. Unfortunately for my plastic children, their dresses didn't quite fit their gnawed figures.
~~~~
In high school, I used to waste the sweltering summer days consumed with thoughts of my future. My friend, Mary, would drag me to the park where we would lay with our backs on a blanket of grass and our eyes transfixed to the subtle movement of the clouds, planning out the entire life of our hypothetical children. From their favourite snacks for a Saturday soccer game to their choice of hairstyle as they went through their rebellious years. There was one day, where the shade had provided little comfort against the hot wind and the clouds had whittled away along with the desire to be outside, that the playing of this game became as unwanted as lukewarm water. Yet I endured, the grass like itchy wool to bare limbs, throwing out names and bedroom colours and outfits while other kids my age threw their Frisbees and run around and lived out the punk phase of my imaginary teens. I became so engrossed in this game of pretend I forget about home, meaning by the time I sprinted through the maze of shortcuts and climbed the mini Everest’s to the withered rose garden of my secluded house, the Sun’s dial had turned down a notch to ‘Slight Sauna Sensation’, but I was already toast. The frustrated gruffs from my mother as she attempted to keep the gas stove on without faltering indicated a lengthy lecture ahead of me. The rose print tea towel and ladle became an extension of her gestures, for dramatic flair of course, while her fierce eyes dared me to answer the accusations of my whereabouts. It was as if she on stage, her character melodiously and melodramatically venting to character two: The Uncooked Chicken. And there, in the final scene of mother’s pointed attack and the daunting question ‘what are you doing with your life’, I could only think of my plan to start a Tambourine trio with my hypothetical triplets.
~~~~
We were strolling along the paved pathways of the park towards the pop up stalls, when I begun to quicken my pace as soon as Mother brought up the topic. Hoping some sugary strawberry sweetness would curb her mind’s curious appetite; I blurted out an order for two Ice-cream Dreams, my panting breath warranting an exasperated sigh from her. The stall lady with a spirited smile, created soft swirls that towered greater than an ice cream cone was designed for. And as much as I tried to prolong the ice-cream licking process, nature was not in my favour as the heat left little sticky trails of vanilla all over my hands, the drizzle venturing from my gold ring to the tips of my fingers. It was once we were sitting on bench, the ice creams gone, that the rapid-fire interrogation began. And her question ‘when are you going to give me grandchildren’ loomed over me, for I wasn’t sure what to reply.
~~~~
“Mrs Childs, are you sure you’re okay?”
A genuine smile rose across my face. That simple piece of news from Doctor Williams confirmed my doubts about wanting children that I held all along. In that moment it seemed ridiculous I considered it in the first place, the thought of some kind of Brady Bunch life. The severity of his tone was hysterical when to me, motherhood was always just a game.
My life’s purpose is not to conceive more life. I am all the life I will need. I am Julia Childs without a child.
But you can just call me Julia.

Mod Edit: Added spoiler

[jamonwindeyer]

Hey Hey can you please check if it makes sense?? I have had no feedback from my teacher please help a girl out. Thankyou so much!!

Hey Deanna! Welcome to the forums! super happy to have you around

So to get detailed feedback on your creative, you need 15 posts on ATAR Notes for every essay. This is to ensure that the service remains attainable for the markers, and that it doesn't become too clogged. So if you hang around the site for a bit and ask a few questions, you will get those really quick

That said, I did have a skim of your creative last night (I went to Coldplay and couldn't sleep, haha!) and I really really like it. You've got a great tone in your writing and some excellent use of literary technique. The story idea is fantastic and I love the way you've started at the end and then backtracked, that sets up a sense of intrigue expertly and that interest carries through the piece. Simply wonderful, definitely makes sense

One note, is the name Julia Child supposed to be a reference to the famous chef? Any reason for it?

On that read, I think the one big piece of feedback I'd offer is to not use techniques just for the sake of using them. In places there were techniques that felt out of place, weird word choices that seemed to be for the purposes of including alliteration/assonance, and verbose language that didn't really suit. Places felt awkward, and I think that is coming from being over-active in your use of techniques (or maybe not). It should just be natural; include similes/analogies when it is natural to do so!

Basically, tone back on the techniques/verbosity in some places, just a tad, it reads like you are trying a bit too hard that said, excellent work! As I said, if you hang around and rack up those 15 posts, I'd be happy to give some detailed feedback

[kb123]

Hi! I got 14/15 for this piece of creative writing - I lost a mark for the fact that the story's "ending does not satisfy the reader" / "no resolution".....

Any tips for a more solid ending? Any other feedback in general?

Carefully placing the fluorescent lamp onto the rocky earth of the 6.5-million-ton Egyptian pyramid, Vitaly slipped his back pack full of tools off his tense shoulders. His muscles let out a cry of relief as they relaxed.  However, his lungs did not cooperate with the hot, humid air around him and his back screamed in protest to the metre-high limestone tunnel he had squirmed through in order to reach his destination. Thank God he wasn’t a tall man, his spine would have suffered from the constant strain. His clothes and hazel hair were ruffled and the airborne dust mixed with the sticky sweat on his skin, painting his face a light brown. But it didn’t bother Vitaly - his many months of planning were at last being put into action. He could now uncover what lay underneath the pyramid that had stood still, unchanged for thousands of years.

Taking out a small chisel, he commenced cautiously chipping away at the wall in front of him. The stone crumbled away like dry cookies, building up small mountains of sand granules near his booted feet. It pained him to hurt the pyramid like this, breaking apart the stone that had stood unaltered for eons, but nevertheless, Vitaly felt at peace – he was away from the University auditorium, away from the foolish Head of the History Department Mr Stiff (what Vitaly liked to call him), who ignored his opinion towards the true purpose of the pyramids, rooted in the century-old view of them as tombs. Every time Vitaly brought it up, Stiff told him to just give up, that nobody would ever believe him without decisive evidence…

He could taste anger starting to form on his tongue.

Evidence! Egyptians used their pyramids as observatories? You and your crazy ideas…

“Just you wait until I come back with the proof.” Vitaly hissed under his breath, slamming the tool into the wall with all his strength. 

He had stopped arguing with his boss long ago – the man would only have dragged Vitaly down to his level. Stiff was only a historian – he didn’t have a PhD in astronomy like Vitaly. He couldn’t comprehend his extraordinary theories.
Continuing to hammer at the rock, Vitaly struggled to avoid inhaling the particles of dust that scratched at his throat, yet the fact that he was breathing in the pyramid, gaining its power of resistance he worshipped like a god, made it bearable. The fury soon drained out of him as the sound of metal grinding against the stone filled his ears.

Krrrgh… Krrgh… Krrgh-
Ching!

The unusual chime knocked his breath out of him as a waterfall of adrenalin flooded his body. He observed the area he had just hit - a transparent lense-like object was embedded within the rock. Vitaly leaned close, bringing his eye right against the circular glass.
His vision was instantly enveloped with an artistic display of sparkling silver studs against a pitch black backdrop. He stumbled onto his back, astounded by what he had just seen.
This was it! He had found it! The evidence he needed to prove his theory that the pyramids were observatories. It was unquestionable!
“YES!” he yelled, his voice sending echoes through the tunnel. “Finally!”
At double the speed, he chiselled the rock away, uncovering a thick, metallic tube that pointed upwards, as though it was connected to outer space.
“Here’s your evidence, bastard.” Vitaly snorted, the sides of his mouth creeping up his cheeks as he took a myriad of photos. Haha Mr Stiff! You think you are so omnipotent that you can’t even consider that Egyptians could have technology such as this. But then he guessed it’s easier to quote the history books, than have the courage to say something original. His revelation was going to challenge Stiff’s views towards the pyramids in a deadly duel. Vitaly visualised himself stuffing the pictures of his excavation into the man’s dumbfounded face.

Packing his things up, Vitaly said his goodbyes to the pyramid that would stand its ground for millennia to come. (if time: the pyramid that would make him famous)

***

“Hmmm…” questioned Stiff as he skimmed through the photos on Vitaly’s camera, his large face scrunched up into a sarcastic expression. Dressed in a wrinkled suit, he sat slumped at an archaic mahogany desk. The office was bordered with shelves upon shelves of antique history books and an owl resided in a filthy, rusted cage adjacent to the desk, its immense eyes rimmed with glistening sadness.

“You think your extraordinary discovery challenges current views on what the pyramids were used for?” Stiff threw his arms up towards the Ancient Egyptian History textbooks covering the walls of the room. “Nice try, but I don’t think the greatest historians on Earth were complete idiots!” The man’s widened eyes mocked Vitaly. “What did I tell you?! Just give up already!”

Vitaly’s teeth grinded against each other, creating a repulsive screech. His cheeks burning with rage, he stomped out of the office.

He wouldn’t believe it…
Then it hit Vitaly like a vigorous punch to his face. His concepts, if developed, would threaten all present understandings of history - who would want that? It’s too hard for people to even consider that everything they trust could be one big fallacy - the apprehension had soaked into his brain like water through a sponge.
Vitaly let out a sigh of disgust. It infuriated him to learn that Stiff wouldn’t even acknowledge the potential of his ideas, sweeping them away like dust under a carpet. He clenched his fist until his veins started to throb.

WE ARE NOT PYRAMIDS!!! Immutability is not an asset for us!!! We must evolve our ideas to advance… We must change our views in order to develop!!!
Vitaly felt like a pebble travelling with the forceful current of the river of thought, unable to alter its direction.
He felt a sudden empathy towards Stiff… Maybe the man had given up on his own dreams in the overwhelming brightness of his own voicelessness.
He glanced back at his boss in the office: his head was in his hands, his tired eyes staring into the emptiness of his desk.

996 words

[deanna.chamanaev]

Thank you so much!!! I didn't make any reference to the chef that's just a coincidence ahaha. And honestly when it comes to English I am always trying to hard ahahaha thanks

[jamonwindeyer]

Thank you so much!!! I didn't make any reference to the chef that's just a coincidence ahaha. And honestly when it comes to English I am always trying to hard ahahaha thanks

Ahaha how funny! I was reading it and I'm like, I knew I had heard this name before!! seriously a great piece, well done, as the year goes on you should pick away at it, add little bits of cut and polish, but if this is what you are starting with then I'm seriously excited to see it progress

[elysepopplewell]

Hi! I got 14/15 for this piece of creative writing - I lost a mark for the fact that the story's "ending does not satisfy the reader" / "no resolution".....

Any tips for a more solid ending? Any other feedback in general?

Hello! Thanks for posting I'll give special consideration to the ending... but my thoughts are in bold throughout

Spoiler

Carefully placing the fluorescent lamp onto the rocky earth of the 6.5-million-ton Egyptian pyramid, Vitaly slipped his back pack full of tools off his tense shoulders. His muscles let out a cry of relief as they relaxed.  However, his lungs did not cooperate with the hot, humid air around him and his back screamed in protest to the metre-high limestone tunnel he had squirmed through in order to reach his destination. Thank God he wasn’t a tall man, his spine would have suffered from the constant strain. His clothes and hazel hair were ruffled and the airborne dust mixed with the sticky sweat on his skin, painting his face a light brown. But it didn’t bother Vitaly - his many months of planning were at last being put into action. He could now uncover what lay underneath the pyramid that had stood still, unchanged for thousands of years. I like everything about this paragraph except the first sentence - I just wish it was a little more crisp and less wordy. There's so much great imagery here!

Taking out a small chisel, Small chisel - this is the perfect kind of crispness I love to read. he commenced cautiously chipping away at the wall in front of him. The stone crumbled away like dry cookies, building up small mountains of sand granules near his booted feet. It pained him to hurt the pyramid like this, breaking apart the stone that had stood unaltered for eons, but nevertheless, Vitaly felt at peace – he was away from the University auditorium, away from the foolish Head of the History Department Mr Stiff (what Vitaly liked to call him), who ignored his opinion towards the true purpose of the pyramids, rooted in the century-old view of them as tombs. Every time Vitaly brought it up in conversation, Stiff told him to just give up, that nobody would ever believe him without decisive evidence…

He could taste anger starting to form on his tongue.

Evidence! Egyptians used their pyramids as observatories? You and your crazy ideas…

“Just you wait until I come back with the proof.” Vitaly hissed under his breath, slamming the tool into the wall with all his strength. 

He had stopped arguing with his boss long ago – the man would only have dragged Vitaly down to his level. Stiff was only a historian – he didn’t have a PhD in astronomy like Vitaly. He couldn’t comprehend his extraordinary theories.
Continuing to hammer at the rock, Vitaly struggled to avoid inhaling the particles of dust that scratched at his throat, yet the fact that he was breathing in the pyramid, gaining its power of resistance he worshipped like a god, made it bearable. The fury soon drained out of him as the sound of metal grinding against the stone filled his ears. Yes...I love that he's breathing in the marvel!

Krrrgh… Krrgh… Krrgh-
Ching!

The unusual chime knocked his breath out of him as a waterfall of adrenalin flooded his body. He observed the area he had just hit - a transparent lense-like object was embedded within the rock. Vitaly leaned close, bringing his eye right against the circular glass.
His vision was instantly enveloped with an artistic display of sparkling silver studs against a pitch black backdrop. He stumbled onto his back, astounded by what he had just seen.
This was it! He had found it! The evidence he needed to prove his theory that the pyramids were observatories. It was unquestionable!
“YES!” he yelled, his voice sending echoes through the tunnel. “Finally!”
At double the speed, he chiselled the rock away, uncovering a thick, metallic tube that pointed upwards, as though it was connected to outer space.
“Here’s your evidence, bastard.” Vitaly snorted, the sides of his mouth creeping up his cheeks as he took a myriad of photos. Haha Mr Stiff! You think you are so omnipotent that you can’t even consider that Egyptians could have technology such as this. This is a funny little swap in narrator - suddenly we have "you" but it isn't in quotation. Then we slip back into third person. I think consistency is key here. But then he guessed it’s easier to quote the history books, than have the courage to say something original. His revelation was going to challenge Stiff’s views towards the pyramids in a deadly duel. Vitaly visualised himself stuffing the pictures of his excavation into the man’s dumbfounded face.

Packing his things up, Vitaly said his goodbyes to the pyramid that would stand its ground for millennia to come. (if time: the pyramid that would make him famous)

***

“Hmmm…” questioned Stiff as he skimmed through the photos on Vitaly’s camera, his large face scrunched up into a sarcastic expression. Dressed in a wrinkled suit, he sat slumped at an archaic mahogany desk. The office was bordered with shelves upon shelves of antique history books and an owl resided in a filthy, rusted cage adjacent to the desk, its immense eyes rimmed with glistening sadness.

“You think your extraordinary discovery challenges current views on what the pyramids were used for?” Stiff threw his arms up towards the Ancient Egyptian History textbooks covering the walls of the room. “Nice try, but I don’t think the greatest historians on Earth were complete idiots!” The man’s widened eyes mocked Vitaly. “What did I tell you?! Just give up already!”

Vitaly’s teeth grinded against each other, creating a repulsive screech. His cheeks burning with rage, he stomped out of the office.

He wouldn’t believe it…
Then it hit Vitaly like a vigorous punch to his face. His concepts, if developed, would threaten all present understandings of history - who would want that? It’s too hard for people to even consider that everything they trust could be one big fallacy - the apprehension had soaked into his brain like water through a sponge.
Vitaly let out a sigh of disgust. It infuriated him to learn that Stiff wouldn’t even acknowledge the potential of his ideas, sweeping them away like dust under a carpet. He clenched his fist until his veins started to throb.

WE ARE NOT PYRAMIDS!!! Immutability is not an asset for us!!! I think the capital letters, the exclamation marks, all in the third person narration, is a touch too personal and changes the voice of the story. We must evolve our ideas to advance… We must change our views in order to develop!!!
Vitaly felt like a pebble travelling with the forceful current of the river of thought, unable to alter its direction.
He felt a sudden empathy towards Stiff… Maybe the man had given up on his own dreams in the overwhelming brightness of his own voicelessness.
He glanced back at his boss in the office: his head was in his hands, his tired eyes staring into the emptiness of his desk.

I think that something that stops me from loving the ending is the inconsistency in sequence and narration. We discover that people do not want to change, then we still feel anger. I would have thought that because he felt anger before the discovery, that the discovery of the concept of humanity would lead him to feel a different way, we need to see a shift in perspective. This kind of shift takes the reader on a journey rather than leaving us on the outside as we watch Vitaly tear his hair out. I think we could tease out the idea of the discovery a bit more as well. Maybe Vitaly could have vivid memories of the thousands of books he's read in his time, and the hundreds of papers he's written, and the livelihood of everyone in Ancient history, and then realise that this discovery would rock ripples through the entire world, and people don't like that change. Which is when we should bring in the idea about people and pyramids being the same but different (which is a great idea). This kind of reflective process without the anger makes it more meaningful, so that we can see a clear shift.

I love that there is a physical, emotional, intellectual, creative, and somewhat spiritual discovery. It's just about giving each their own space, and the ending needs a little work. I would just adjust the ending there by focusing on the clarity of the voice, the sequence of the revelation, and then just twisting and tweaking them to fit each other beautifully. Your writing style is super clear, and I think that just kneading the ending around a little bit will bring out that last, unquestionable discovery.