the figmental progress....

Hello, My adoring zombie slaves. So, guess what? I took it into my responsibility to create a ghs creative writing group on figment!!!! I figured we could discuss sharing things, have people read stuff they might have missed during a meeting, discuss future parties, our poetry smash, and put prompts up. I guess I'm going to be a moderator since I'm kinda taking care of the group using my personal account and the group account. But, if I didn't leave you a comment on your wall to join, get to it! It's the ghs creative writing GROUP. So.... do it.

Lets not end this wonderful internet thingy.

Hello my dear friends. It is Saturday night and I am...blogging alone in my room. Well....anyways....I just wanted to let you guys know that I just finished Pretties by Scott Westerfeld. It was the sequel to Uglies and both books are excellent! I haven't posted in a long time, so I just wanted to say hi and see how things were going. Well, we haven't blogged in a long time, and it seems like Catherine and Invader Pink and a few others are the only ones that blog. So lets blog! Well, see you all on Monday!

Megan W.

FIGMENT!

Hello, my adoring zombie slaves. So, I'm the one who likes to do reposts from figment, but no repost today... (awwwwww.....) Instead, I created a figment soley dedicated to CWC. This means we can finally create a group piece without falling apart. Like how we planned with 7 or whatever it was. I think it was 8 actually, but in either case, it died. Maybe it needs to rise from the dead and be zombified. Or maybe something new will take it's place. NOTE: This is not for promotion/free hearts... CATHERINE*coughcough*. But, if you really are that proud of something, you can use the CWC account for bringing up one of your pieces in the forums. There's a forum for good stuff on figment, so I'll give you that confidence boost of pretending you're a devoted fan to, uh, yourself? To log on to the figment account is the same for logging onto our gmail account. You type in the email/password and our username is Greenhill MS CWC. Tinker with it if you please. You can thank me tomorrow. or now. either one is acceptable.

Angelic.... not.

Hello, my adoring zombie slaves. So, it's official, I'm hooked on angel paranormal-romances. In all defense they are amazing. Like, more amazing than your book. By 3,000. And 4. I just happened to wrap up an angelic book about 45 minutes ago (I got it first period today...) Unearthly by Cynthia Hand. Read it. Today. If you like that book, then you must read Fallen by Lauren Kate. That book (and the second of the series) gives me pangs of adoration. Majorly. I also read a book about a guardian angel who fell in love with the girl he watches over and then she turns into a vampire and he's supposed to kill her, but duh, he can't 'cause he loves her. It was pretty good. It was called Eternal, I think... by the same author as Tantalize (vampire/werewolf book.... Agh. Never travel down that path again.) I read all those. I've also read a book called The Eternal Ones, which isn't about angels, but very much like Fallen (minus the angels.)...or does it have angels... do I remeber???

Wow, I'm such a loser... All I read about are angels, werewolves, vampires (only sometimes though and never EVER w/ werewolves involved... blech.), ghosts, casters/life on loops, and the ocassional zombies (Daniel Waters FTW!) or necromancers. You know, like any other sweet innocent girl. Ha.

Ignoring CWC (not really though cuz that would be really bad)

Hello, today is Thursday. You know what that means????!?!? CREATIVE WRITING CLUB! Yay! But, I didn't go today because I felt sick :(. I also feel like I've kind of been ignoring this blog, but only because I forgot the username and password. No worries though, I remembered and here I am, providing wonderful blogginess for all of you guys. Please check out my figment (Rayne posted a link to it a few posts below).








keep smiling!

Om Nom Nom

Hello, my adoring zombie slaves! So, its about 12:22 so CWC started about 12  minutes ago. Today there will only be seventh graders since the eighth grade gets the day off. WOOO! I'm still tired. Anyways, I've been updating some unfinished pieces on figment so I'll be ready. We are starting a new trend for this year. The sevies will go first to read. You know, youngest goes first..like CANDYLAND. But, you need skill to write... Oh well. Either way I want to be Princess Lolly. Who doesn't want purple hair and a little yellow party dress? Weirdos, that's who. I have to type FAST since I want to finish before creative writing club is over. Technically, I'm not there since I get the day off, but I'm here in the form of blog. Maybe I'll end up reading this! It's interesting to juggle two blogs. Urgh. CWC will be over soon. Its 12:26! Actually, lunch ends at 12:40 for eighth graders but it ends like ten minutes sooner for seventh graders since they start around ten minutes before us. Or maybe it's five... Whatevs, I've got to minutes till 12:30, so I'll keep going. I wonder what they're reading... I'll use my mind powers... URGHURGHURGHURGH*wigglewigglewigglenosenosenose* I've got nothing. But, I bet Getty will read stuff since he always does. Pretty soon we will pass the torch of the blog to the seventh graders... Good thing I made it pretty for them!!! Okay, It's 12:30, so now I'm done. Awwww. Oh well. bye bye!
xoxo Alexandria

It's BACK!!!

Hello, my adoring zombie slaves. I'm back and here to post about the legendary Creative Writing Club. Oh yeah, baby. It's back. I know, I'm so excited I could pee myself. Today was the third meeting, but I had strep for the first, so it's more like my second meeting of the year of the new school year, but whatever. I'm kinda surprised that I'm the first one to start posting again, but hey it's cool. I've posted here quite a few times. You should totally hunt them down and read them. All of them. Anyways, I think we should have more parties. We had some good parties last year. Like the Harry Potter party (I wore my radish earrings) and the Purple party (I brought lavender lemonade, which technically isn't purple but is the best kind of lemonade ever... I also brought mustaches on sticks and various purple markers and pencils and such. mustaches are great. Santana, Fred, And Lavender (and Pink) all came too.) Basically, creative writing club is way better than your club. Whatever it may be. I like reading my stuff from figment. And anywhere else I have written things, but mostly figment. Anyways, obviously I have really missed creative writing club, and now it's back, so. I miss you no more!

One more thing!

I know, I know, I just posted like an hour ago or something but....I MADE MY OWN BLOG!! here it is: mehaforthewin.blogspot.com




keep smiling!


also check out Portia's new blog: lookingatmyworld.blogspot.com
and my other friend's (I don't know if she wants to be named): hmmmwhattodothissummer.blogspot.com/

Summer...and much more.

So, since it's summer break and many people want to keep in touch, I've noticed that a lot of my friends have been creating blogs. Here are some: ewenliang.blogspot.com lamosking.blogspot.com  peglegmegasaurus.blogspot.com  dailyeuphemisms.blogspot.com and of course, the infamous   musingsofthemiddleschoolminds.blogspot.com. You guys should check all these blogs out, they're pretty cool. I love summer and all but being away from my friends and being away from CWC is always hard. I'm excited about Portia coming back from her vacation today. Anyways, I guess since I don't know what else to write about, I'll jump on the band wagon of movie reviewers. 


Just this past sunday, my friend and I went to go watch Kung Fu Panda 2. There were a few moments that were hilariously funny but in comparison to the first one, it had a lot less storyline and plot. I loved the first one because it was funny, interesting, full of action and still had a captivating plot. The second was also funny and action-packed but the plot was a little bit predictable. We saw it in 3D which was cool and all but I don't think it made any difference to me. So, if I had like a star rating or whatever it would probably be maybe 4 stars? 


keep smiling! 

Why I love CWC

WE HAD OUR LAST MEETING THIS YEAR TODAY! I am sad that the year is coming to a close but everyone has to continue writing on this blog. Even though the year is over doesn't mean that this blog is! Well, the year is not over....yet. We have 5 more days. Which isn't much. Anyways, as Catherine said, we had an epic purple party today. We sang about Harry Potter, made mustaches, and took our history teacher's plants. Club well spent. We also had AMAZING food, thanks to all of the members.

Okay, so my title is Why I love CWC, because I do so much. Here are 7 reasons why:

• I became closer to classmates and found out who they are through their writing
• I got to listen to AWESOME stories/poems/reasons why/etc.
• I was able to explore who I am as a writer
• I got to escape the loud cafeteria
• (well...at the beginning of the year) I met some older students that were in CWC and got to know them...a little bit more
• We were able to create a BLOG!!!!
• I was able to listen to the beginning of Harriet Panner before it becomes to most famous book in the world

I could go on forever, but I've got places to be. Love all of y'all in CWC!

Portia

Title

Hey! Its Portia! Summer is almost here! I think that we should all write something about summer. It will be a little theme for our new posts. This a pastiche off of To Kill a Mockingbird I made about summer. Hope you like it!

Summer is inching towards me like an insect. Hours ticked as slowly behind the dull red institutional clock. Summer is a chance to explore: it is floating in the sweet, warm air ready to fall in the soft grass, or having your fingers permanently pruned from all the swimming in Sarah’s pool; summer is freedom and that little voice inside of you that says “go, go do it, be free”. Summer is an ocean of excitement swirling in the bright sunlight; but most of all, summer is no homework.

I also wrote a poem called Yesterday. Enjoy!

Yesterday she was lively.

Yesterday her eyes shined with

a thousand colors.

Yesterday the chirp in her voice

made everyone smile.

Yesterday her hair swayed

in the cool breeze.

Yesterday she felt like she could fly in the wind

like a bird set free,

with nothing holding it back.

But it is not yesterday,

and now I am watching her

lie there silently

as the hospital lights flicker on and off.

Part 1 of Hop Review

Before you read the movie review, I want you to know a little bit more about who I am. My name is not member. That is just my username because I am a member of a this club. But I would like to go by Portia. I picked this name not because It sounded pretty, but because Shakespeare used it to mean clever. Personally, I have never read a Shakespeare book, so this character might by an antagonist, which I would not be in a book. Just wanted to let you know.

So the new movie Hop just came out and I saw it last night. It was good, i really liked it. It was kind of predictable, though. It was about a 30-year-old named Fred O'Hare who is living in his parent house, jobless. His parents kick him out, and he promises his sister, Amanda, that he will get a job by Easter. Now lets jump to E. B. (played by Russell Brand) He is a bunny, and his father is the Easter bunny. In a week or so, he will be crowned easter bunny. But he doesn't want that, so he runs away to Hollywood. There he meet Fred.

Thats where the story starts. If you want to know what happens next go watch it!

thanks- Portia

Down the Wishing Well

Hey guys! This is Lily Bennet. This my first post on our awesome blog. It is a poem I wrote just a few minutes ago about how we really don't know anyone except ourselves. All we see of other people is the outside- the shell. I think that a big part of life is the people you spend it with, but it is hard to find the people you want to spend life with, and the people who can make your life happy, if all you can see is a shell. So, here is the poem- Down the Wishing Well:


What do I know of the world?
I know its places well,
but when it comes to the world's people,
what do we know but a shell?


Life is just us, 
searching for ourselves, 
and searching through everyone else-
trying to find someone who fits,
but who can we find
if all we see
is a shell?


I know myself.
I've spent so much time
in my own mind,
but what other mind 
do I really
truly 
know?
We don't really know anyone else very well.


In life we build our own path. 
We lay it down 
brick by yellow brick
with hands raw from work. 
At some point the work begins to make us fall, 
we search for someone to catch us, 
before we destroy it all.


They say
you hear a bell,
quiet but clear,
feel a single tear,
as you spiral down the wishing well.
No more wishes,
just a life of looking at the happy days,
reflected in a mirror 
facing our past.


All this happens 
when you begin your descent
down the wishing well,
and all you have to catch you
is a shell.

Hello m'dears!

Soooooo, as you all know today was CW day! Woohoo! I have officially reserved Thursdays for this blog and Tuesdays for my other totally awesome blog here. You should read it. RIGHT NOW! Wait, no! Read my fantastical post (which is also on figment here), then read my other blog. Yeah! Then follow it! Well, now I'm going to dampen the mood. ooh.... I realize that both of my posts have been the ones to do that.... I'm taking a risk here and posting something, well, real. raw. pure. Its not fiction, and I hope people will get something out of this somehow. Nothing in this poem is made up, but you'd never know who, because its not the real him, but the fantasy of him. But he is real, he's just not mine.

A night under the moon

I often have imaginary conversations
with you.
I ask you questions in my mind
and answer them in your voice
and imagine your expressions when you reply.
I pretend you are thinking of me,
and pretend these conversations are real.
I pretend you think of me,
and I think of you,
so somehow our minds merge.
I sit on the edge of my bed
the moonlight washing over me
in thick stripes
because I left the blinds open.
I imagine the weight of your arm on my shoulders
and clasp and unclasp my hands
as if one of them is yours.
I play out scenarios
in my mind
about something you would say
to me
and something I would say back
that would make you realize how I
felt about you.
I pretend you whisk me across
the room,
My Body's A Zombie For You
sung by Ryan Gosling,
even though I know
you would never listen to it.
I've seen you in dreams.
You've picked me up
and ran me across
Disney world
and I wore a yellow dress.
You've kissed my cheek.
You've sat down next to me at lunch.
But, really this never happened
past the walls
of my unconsciousness on
a night under the moon.
Then I wake up
and remember reality,
all I do is pretend,
and I know that I am just another girl
that temporarily fell into your eyes.
I know that I was the one that tripped
and waited for you
to help me out
or maybe pull me in deeper
and you could have fallen into mine.

Sick

I don't know if you know the poem "Sick" by Shel Silverstein. It was always my favorite poem when I was a little kid. I was always upset because my family owns almost every Shel Silverstein book, except "Where the Sidewalk Ends". This was no doubt the best book and had inside it, my beloved "Sick". It was about a girl named Peggy Ann McKay. She couldn't go to school because she had a whole asssortment of ailments. "She had measles and the mumps, a gash, a rash, and purple bumps." In the end of this poem, Peggy finds out it's Saturday and decides to go outside and play. I am one of the few children in this world who has never faked being sick. I might have over-dramatized my sickness at some points (I'm a naturally dramatic person), but I've never faked. I am indeed sick today. I have some sort of bug that will be gone tomorrow. In fact, I'm already feeling better, but I do not like missing school. I wrote my own little poem in honor of "Sick". If you have not read "Sick" I suggest you do. i've even attached a link for it. http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sick-20/ This is a little pastiche of it.

I have to make more of an effort,

said little Catherine Christine Leffert.

I have two quizzes, and a game,

A test, a quest, it's not the same.

My project's not done, my paper's due,

I have so much to get through.

I think I threw my notes away,

My school is 20 minutes away.

Oh, there's traffic, that's 25.

Don't we go on I-35?

The sub is gone, my teacher's back.

I think I'm having a panic attack!

My book, my pen, my key, my phone.

I think I left it all at home!

My desk broke when I moved my chair,

I'm sure my homework has a tear.

My pencil snapped, my eraser's gone,

I lost my lunch money on the lawn.

My paper's ripped, my tape's not here,

Even my glue has disappeared.

My locker's full, my laptop fell,

My library book is in a well.

My math exam is up next class,

I got in trouble for using sass.

My binder's bent, my shoes aren't tied,

I got a D, if I must confide.

My art is bad, I just might fail,

My picture's a dog, not a whale!

My class is hard, and my speech is- What?

What's that? What's that you say?

You say today is... Saturday?

G'bye, I'm going out to play!

I hope you enjoyed the poem. It took about 30 minutes so I hope you like it.

-Catherine "Poet"

The reality of the cold, harsh world we live in

This is a monologue I made:

Sometimes I wish life was like a meadow. They are so calm. Nothing in the world would want to bother a meadow. Flowers bloom, Tree sway in the quiet wind, and the grass dances to the beat of the world around it. But life is not a meadow, and you cannot always get that perfect breeze blowing your hair back. You must bare the mushy snow that gets in your boots. You must bare the cold world around us. You must live and savor the times that life is like a meadow.

Thanks- member

Sup!

Hey!
So im Elaina Brooks and as BUNCHES of people (2) before me have said... THIS IS NOT MY REAL NAME! teehee. Yes, this is my pen name (I don't know if thats 1 word or 2) and I use it pretty much everywhere on the interwebs. If you go to figment, look at Elaina Brooks (guess what, THATS ME!) and you can see a lot of the stuff I have made! I hope you enjoy this because it will be a LOT of fun, so...
stay tuned...

~Elaina Brooks~

First Post! YAY!

So first things first, I will always right in this font. Yes, this font only. And that's how you will know it's me! No, I don't have a story to share with you all right now but, I will soon! Check out my figment! On figment my name is "Meha E." (not my full/real name) so...Bye!


keep smiling!




      

Hi There!

Hi! Rayne Rivers here! For those of you that don't know, but that is not my real name, but my other blog is anonymous and yada yada yada... SO, basically, I'm gonna post stories and stuff. Clearly, I am one of the most amazing writers ever! I'm kidding(ish). Now, going into serious professional mode. This short story is about a guy (i thought that was obvious, but somepeople asked me when I posted it on figment. Speaking of that, you should give it the heart it deserves here) and he is remembering the most phenomenal girl he had ever met. By the way, this charity is real. I'll let the story speak for itself now.



 Emo was probably the best of them. The best of the signs put up on our lockers. But, there were bad ones. Real bad. It hurt. Those words. Probably more than the punches. But, fortunately, they wouldn't touch her. I guess they had some kind of morals in that tiny Connecticut town. Enough morals to not punch a girl, but that was it. She was hurt other ways. It hurt just to watch it go on and not do anything, but it had to have hurt more for her. So much that she almost committed suicide. Almost. It didn't work. Thank god, it did not work.

But, that's when I knew it was partly my fault. Me, a bystander, supporting her, but doing nothing. I changed that. I held her hand in the halls. I peeled the signs off of her locker before she saw them, even though she knew they were there. I walked her to school, and then walked her back home. The bullying never stopped, and instead got worse. But, somehow it was getting better for the both of us because finally, I gave her my promise, to love her always.

Then she went missing. Wrote me a note and left it in my locker along with a wristband. To Write Love On Her Arms. The note told me not to be scared or worried. She made a promise to me, that I would be the first to see her alive and healthy when she was done with whatever it was. But, I was still worried. Still worried that she hadn't quite gotten over her suicide attempt. So I looked for her around town, frantic. I was just about to give up and tell myself she never truly made me any promises and I couldn't hold her to the one she supposedly made. But, then I looked up what was on the wristband. To Write Love On Her Arms. "To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire, and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery." I was no longer scared, but I still looked for her. And this time, I looked for her to be with her, and help her jump whatever leap she was taking. 

I hopped on a train, a spark of an idea flashing through me. To Write Love on Her Arms. I ignored the familiar group of football players that were clearly drunk and trying to stalk me as a joke. I never noticed the gun when I stopped at the nearest town with a tattoo parlor. She was just walking out with a newly inked message on her arm, when she got shot.

In a way she kept her promise. I was the first, but sadly the last, to see her alive and healthy, and she saw me keep mine before her burden was truly lifted.

Now, I remember her, and write love on my arms, like she did with hers.

Welcome to Greenhill Creative Writing Club Blog!

Welcome to this poetic blog, my friends,

where creative writing never ends.

All of the members will blog and write,

to make this blog an awesome site.

From Harriet Panner to the story 8,

this blog will be pretty great.