The Importance Of Creative Writing

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

One of the things I feel very strongly about is writing. I like how you can say whatever you want knowing that it is your opinion. You have freedom over what you say. Some things that are written could be seen as controversial, but in the scheme of things, most of what is said is okay because at the end of the day you have the right to freedom of speech. Personally writing is an escape from life, whether it is full of pain, sadness, chaos, or just plain boredom. A few years ago my imagination was bright. It held quite a bit of good ideas, but somewhere along the way to now I lost most of that ability to think of the most random plot lines or ideas to write about. My creativity slowly burned out, kind of like a candle. Then one morning not too

“Anything that can help us find out who did this.” I said, examining the crime scene. I walked towards what used to be the glass case that held the crown, but was now a useless, shattered cube.

As Jason and Miss Golden had help reunite William and Daisy, they had walked out into the corridors happy and overwhelmed, this curse was over and not upon Jason anymore. This was not a happy ending for just William and Daisy, but also for Jason and Miss Golden, or so they thought. Going down the flights of stairs, giggling and holding hands, Jason and Miss Golden were already talking about future plans and where to eat out later. Little did you know, William did not feel like letting Jason or Miss Golden go, despite the fact that they helped William and Daisy reunite. The curse may be over, but one was cursed and will fill the pain and suffer.

Sniff* "Mommy...Sniff* Daddy..." The lupine cried out as he laid down inside the beaten up box, wishing for his parents until someone started to shake the box. "L-leave me alone..." He whimpered to the stranger until the shaking stopped and two white hands reached inside and lifted him out of the box. "Hey there... Don't fret little pup I'm a police officer. Why were you in that box? Where are your parents? A white tiger asked with a gentle voice to the frightened pup. Jade noticed the police uniform and tried hard to calm down but failed miserably. "T...T-they are....sniff* There gone! T-there with everyone and left me all alone!" The lupin cried out loud, unable to hold back his warm tears. His breaths could be seen in the cold night air.

“AAH, I must have overslept!” The Hero rushed towards the window, and he saw that Monster Zero must have been busy for at least a few hours. He gathered all his weapons, and ran towards Monster Zero, somewhere where he could not be seen. “Alright, all monsters have a weak point, so where could it be……..aha! Monster Zero’s neck isn’t covered by any scales, so I must attack there!”

Creative Writing is an unique class. The class lets students express their feelings, write them, discuss what’s there, and allow a story to flow from them. Creative Writing has allowed students to learn in a way not focused on point objectives, but on understanding and using the information taught in important ways. This has really helped emphasize the importance and impact of writing. With this, it seems possible that having more classes that use this format could improve the impact writing skills taught in school have on students. One small way to help more students become interested and impacted is by generating an Advanced c writing class.

“It most certainly is not,” retorted Phillie. “Freddie is that terrible man from those awful movies made years ago. The man who would attack children in their sleep.”

The arena was jammed packed; it's occupants attention directed straight towards the stage. They were awaiting a man. A man who would fall in their midst soon, but a man they wanted to see nonetheless. On this stage, there were two red curtains on each side and the floor was lined with redwood. The arena itself had a theater like build to it. In the suburbs of Philadelphia, a venue of this sorts carried a sort of perplex bewilderment to it. It's presence in the city was admired, but at the same time gave a peculiar feel to the residents nearby. It was a like a shining Cathedral in a poverty ridden city; like a single Skyscraper in a agricultural landscape. It didn't quite fit it.

As a student. I felt very uneasy before reading it knowing that the level of difficulty would be unimaginable. Though, within the “prequel,” I was already mesmerized by the beautiful writing and kept me captive. Read with an open mind! This Fleeting World also encourages and sets up a wide variety of debates and thought experiments. Which if read within a group of students would be very lively. Thus, audience is meant for those willing to learn big things in little time. Also adding graphics of maps, illustrations of tools and quotes that become more and more relevant the more is read. It’s even better to be able to read the chapter, look at the pictures and not be left with any questions visually. A great summer read for many. A piece made

Writing is an amazing way to communicate, express ideas, and convince others of how the writer is feeling. For some, writing might be a requirement, fun, relaxing, a chore. Whatever it may be, writing is influential, for the writer and the reader.

Ever since I remember, I have always enjoyed writing. The fact that I can be able to put together a paper and have someone get my idea just with the first paragraph is mind blowing. Sometimes I can’t express myself through speaking so writing down my thoughts on paper has always been my therapy but also an important thing in my everyday life.

At the beginning of time, there existed one realm. In it there lived happiness and anguish, joy and pain, and success and failure. These emotions and characteristics were deep and rich. From this world emerged 2 beings, Masculum and Femina, born unto opposite sides in this vast world. The man was found among valleys and mountains, in a land of physical hardship and immense trials of strength and agility. He was forced to be strong in body, and aggressive, as wild animals and plant life sought to destroy him to eradicate his superior form. The woman was born in a land among clever serpentine creatures, foraging beasts, and changing landscapes that required quick thinking. Thus, the attributes of men and women were formed.

To me, creativity is expressing your innermost thoughts into something everyone can see, hear, and/or understand. For me, I show my creative side in my personal writing and drawing. I enjoy writing my own stories for people to enjoy them. I will, on occasion, will pick up a pencil and paper and just draw an image of my liking. I understand that my artistic skills in drawing and writing may not be advanced, but I do not let other people push down my ability to express my thoughts. I have a plan for my writing. I want it to be something people will look at. I do not care whether or not the story is officially published and put into a physical book. I only care about my writing as a part of me and my life. I may be a math professor or an accountant

I was sitting in psychology class, it was such an incredibly average day, that the entire morning of it is gone from my memory. My desk sat second in the column, the fifth and furthest row from the door. The movie Sybil wrapping up on the screen off to the side of me. We all sat in the general sleepy fog as the lights switched back on, putting the room back into normal academic mode. My eyes shot around the room, spending a second to scan all the cheesy teacher posters and quotes from Freud that hung on the walls. I yawned as my eyes zoned out, hearing bits and pieces of my peers comment on the film, asking around for the open ended answers that came with the film. Students clamoring forming into a jumbled mess as I looked over the sheet