Essays on Creative Writing
Personal Essay On Hamlet
... or stay home and
concentrate on the massive amounts of homework that have piled up. It is at
times like these when Mr. Anderson's words of advice float though my head. The
one I hear Mr. Anderson saying most often in the back of my mind is one that,
until now, I always thought he created. I say this because all of the other
morals were obvious ones that, if I had not already heard, I eventually came to
hear quite often. Until I actually went through the list of quotes at the back
of the play Hamlet, I automatically assumed that Mr. Anderson was a genius. For
I am taling about the line, "brevity is the soul of wit," in which Polonius is
talking to the King and Queen ...
Creative Story: Kid In Closet
... on the street to
dirty men, things to the degree only the grotesque mind could imagine such a
But when Wolfgang was really menacing or his dad was drunk he would tell
the story of the kid in the closet. The kid in the closet story scared Wolfgang
so much he wouldn't dare get near one.
The night had fallen and the dealers came out just after dusk, so Wolfgang
moved his toys from the corner and walked up the apartment stairs. As his little
twelve year old legs climbed the steps, he had to pass the bums that lay cold on
the steps with their bottles of liquor. Once to the top of the staircase he
passed a late dealer, and headed toward his home.
Don't Just Look In Its Eyes - A Creative Story
... a moment when the line between the hunter and the hunted
That moment when I realize I've got him and he realizes he's dead?
YES! First there's the dance, the slow teasing chase, the furtive
glances, the glimpses of your prey, and his wild frantic glances back. And
then the tug of war, of spirits, of wills, of endurance.
The wire of tension draws tight. Like and umbilical cord, the hunter
has bonded with his prey, forever, bonded by the life and death chase.
The fuse of life burns shorter, bringing the hunter closer, close, and
then the final intimacy of the kill!
Does the dumb beast know its fate? Can he guess its fa ...
Creative Writing: Jimmy Valentine The Safe Cracker
... as husband and wife
and also about the future of the shoe store.
Jimmy was so sure of himself, that the next night, he had a document
made that stated that in the event of a divorce, or the death of Jimmy, the
shoestore would be completely owned by his wife, Annabelle.
Two months later, Jimmy and Annabelle Spencer were married. That same
day, Jimmy threw all his safe cracking tools over the bridge into a small stream.
For three years everything went well. Their shoestore had great buiesness,
They had 2 children, and they bought a beautiful home in the country.
Everything was going well untill one day Annabelle woke up and her
beloved husband was missing. No ...
Personal Writing: Gifts
... an angel
because of her angelic voice. My grandmother died seven months after that
Christmas, and then the pin meant even more to me. Now I felt as if I had
two angels watching over me.
During my ninth grade year, I put the pin on my Fremont
cheerleading jacket. Sadly, during the middle of the year, I lost the pin.
I was very angry at myself for losing the pin. Every time I looked at it,
it was a reminder of my aunt and grandmother. I almost felt as if I lost
them all over again.
This year for Christmas, I received a gift-certificate from my
other grandmother to the Bible Book Center. With the gift certificate, I
bought a new Bible. It has detailed maps, and othe ...
Creative Writing: Mayor Of Casterbridge
... that he would find work in this town, simply to spite
the people who had turned him away. He also felt he owed it to himself to try
and pick up the pieces of his shattered life in case Susan should ever find him
again, despite the slim chance of that ever happening. Though he had his faults,
Henchard was strong-minded when he decided to be.
At the next several doors, Henchard was very stubborn. When he would at
first be refused, he would insist upon a chance to prove his worthiness by
performing some task for the shopkeeper. Most simply refused, but at some
places it got him in the door to speak as best he could on his own behalf. It
was near the end ...
Personal Reflection: John F. Kennedy's Assassination
... room and threw herself in front of the fuzzy black and white television. She had the day off from school and after hearing the news, did not budge until her parents made her go do the chores. After the Holstein cows were milked, she once again fixed herself in front of the noise box.
My mother was mesmerized by the disturbing set of events. In all her years, she had never experienced anything this horrible. She sat, glued to her spot in front of the television, and cried. Over and over again, she watched the replay of the shooting and would cry some more. Walter Cronkite’s voice echoed throughout her modest home, repeatedly recounting the tragedy.
Personal Writing: The Day Of Surprise
... unlike any other holiday. On Valentines Day
I felt loved by everyone. On that day, I would obtain the card that I had
picked out from my father. Classmates would give everyone Valentine cards. Some
extremely generous kids would even attach candy to the cards. It didn't matter
if you hated each other, on Valentines Day everyone put aside their differences
and even presented cards to the children nobody liked. That one day of love
seemed to unify the worst of foes through love and forgiveness. I could hardly
wait for that day to come.
As the night before Valentines Day had rolled around, anticipation had
escalated to an all time peak. Nevertheless, it was a ...
Creative Writing: A Murder On The Eighth Night Was Caused By An Old Mans "evil" Eye
... I attacked, I got one of his pillows and suffocated him, I then
dismembered his body in the bathtub so there wouldn't be any traces of
blood to be found. I then put the body parts under the planks in the
floor," explained the butler.
"When we went to the house to check out a scream a neighbor heard, the
butler opened the door and was real nice, he let us snoop around the house
to show us that nothing was wrong. He said he had a bad dream. Then when
he took us into the old man's sleeping chamber he started to get real
impatient and started to act weird that is when he confessed the murder to
us." explained a detective. "When we took off the planks we saw the
Creative Writing: The Wind In His Sail
... the best
looking, and even one of the smartest kids in school.
"Hi Julie," moaned Cobi in reply, "what are you doing here?"
A shocked, but smiling Julie answered, "Just came to see ya."
"Well visiting hours are over," Cobi uttered as he pushed past Julie and
trekked up the rocky shore to his home. His home! His home was a picturesque
array of hand-crafted pillars and intricate woodwork that beautified even the
aesthetic sandy ocean beach that encompassed it. As always, after sailing
practise, he was greeted by a honk and a wave from his father returning from
work. His father was a partner in Jones, Jefferson, and Deveau, the most