Monthly Archives: November 2015

Stop calling me lazy!!!

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So I guess as anyone would realise a massive part of taking a writing based university course is a heck of a lot of reading. Sat in bed this morning with a story I have to read up on my laptop and my mum comes into my room shouting about how I’m lazy and disgusting and spend all day lounging around. Shouting about how I’m just sat watching TV shows… Well I’m definitely reading a book and not listening to an audio book so there is no sound at all and I definitely watch TV shows with the volume ON. 

I told her, no, I’m reading for university and next I get a massive rant about how she bets I have the perfect life just sat on my ass all day, yet since I’ve been born I have never once seen a book in her hand and she always tells me she doesn’t enjoy reading, so how she thinks it’s the ‘perfect life’ I have no idea. 

I tell her maybe she should try it sometime if she thinks sitting down and reading set books for hours on end is any kind of fun at all. Thought that would shut her up but instead she tells me that I should quit university and get a ‘real job’ and stop complaining. Well, I wasn’t complaining until she came into my room and made it perfectly clear she had a problem!

I have now stopped doing any form of reading and tidied my whole room. I bet she still won’t be happy though. Next she will have a go at me for not focusing on my university course!

Prose Poetry Fail

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Now I am learning how to write Prose Poetry, I really enjoy it but seems I still don’t have the complete knack for it. Here is a ‘Prose Poem’ I wrote below:

The wrong day

Pumpkins, sweets, ghosts and ghouls. The door opened to a knock and within a blink she is past me and gone- her silver fur merging between the witches and skeletons that wait at the door with faces of makeup and buckets for treats. Hearing a bang, I look up to the sky and see the flash and shimmer of coloured blasts in the sky. Another bang and then another… purple, green, pink and blue. Bang! Bang! Bang! Do people know that they have the wrong day? Running down the street in a black corpse dress, calling out her name ‘Bluey, Bluey where are you?’ tripping down lanes, kneeling to peep in bushes calling out ‘Bluey.’ And I imagine her hiding and trembling nearby.

Turns out that it isn’t a Prose Poem at all because it wasn’t focused on a singular idea! Do not be put off if you write something similar – you now have the framework for something else. I will now be turning this into Flash Fiction!