Introduction to Creative Writing Course

For new writers living in the Blyth / Seaton Deleval area of Northumberland, I will be running an 8-week course introducing the basics of creative writing, starting on Wednesday 26 September 2007.

I will be posting some of our discussions on this blog and students are welcome to drop in for a chat.

For more information contact BRIC at 01670 353817 or email them at accessbricblyth[at]

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5 comments on “Introduction to Creative Writing Course

  1. Well Done Fi! An excellent start to the course. I loved the little exercises. They really challenged my creativity. Can’t wait to get going! I really need help with the poetic side of me!

    See you next week

  2. Fiona Veitch Smith on said:

    So glad you enjoyed it. I had great fun too. Have you had a chance to look at the Releasing your Creativity post yet?

  3. Irene Whitehill on said:

    Hi Fi. Just to say that I agree with Tammy’s comments.The opening class was really enjoyable. The exercises were stretching but I’m sure I’m sure I’ll impove. Help!!! I need help with pose and prose but as the course progresses I know I’ll improve with your guidance.

    With every best wish,


  4. tammy on said:

    No, I have been full of cold. managed to get h/wk done what do you think and anyone else who is reading this blog!

    An eerie, electrical hum enveloped the autumn night air. Faded memories of whispering trees and scurrying creatures silently sang on the cool breeze. A piercing horn sliced through the night; echoing for miles around. Slowly and secretly he awoke from his place of hiding. From beyond the rusting rail tracks, he could hear his enemy begin to emerge from the futuristic structure that dominated the skyline. A distant mumbling quickly snowballed into an overwhelming cacophony, as more and more enemies made their routine journey. Now, was not the time for him to search for the treasure? He would wait until the air crackled with that electrical hum again. Then he would make his move.

    It took over an hour for the revelry to die down. He scanned the railroad leading up to the metal linear landscape. All looked calm yet his spine tingled. There was a deathly silence in the air that resembled a rapidly deserted ghost town. He listened anxiously waiting for the sign. There it was… an unmistakeable clunking of massive metal doors. Over at the darkest corner of the building; illuminated like an idea lighting up your mind; was a sliver, which then grew into a wide open mouth of light. This was the sign! This was what he’d been waiting for!
    Without hesitation he dashed like a sprinter from the blocks towards the beastly mouth. His feet hardly touched the damp earth as he meandered around the deep pools of darkness. He was fast; very fast; they never saw him coming. Within seconds he had infiltrated the mouth of the beast. He paused, taking in his surroundings, and then hastily he ran for cover. His heart pounded inside his head, threatening to explode. He tried to control his breathing. He had to remain calm. He knew there would be traps, but he was wise, he’d fooled the best of them. Now more than ever he needed to retrieve the treasure. They were counting on him.

    A flickering fluorescent light cast dancing shadows into the claustrophobic corridor. He drew a deep, meaningful breath and clinging to the shadows managed to sneak past the security cameras. It was not far now. If he could pass the traps and the guards in the next room, he would be within sight of the treasure. He kept thinking of his family. They would be expecting him home soon. Only his wife knew of the dangers he faced tonight. That’s the way it was and always would be. He recalled the layout from memory. Every corner, niche and piece of furniture was burned forever in his mind. It was simple enough. But, could he get in and out without being detected. The next five minutes were critical. If he could sneak past the guards, all would be well. He gingerly looked around the corner into the brightly lit room. There were few hiding places, but there were hiding places. He had to make the decision. If he hung on too much longer, the chance would slip past him.

    The two guards were sat at their desk. The big burly one, placed tobacco into the paper. His yellowing fingers expertly rolled the mix of tobacco and paper into a perfect cylinder. He placed one end into his mouth and lit the other. Wispy smoke entangled with the air, rising delicately towards the light above. The guards were relaxed and had their backs to him. Now was his chance! Carefully, with his body close to the wall, he crept around the corner. He hesitated every few steps. The treasure door was within reach. He tentatively placed a foot down. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he felt the ground change. There was a curdling crack, a rush of wind, then SNAP! Nausea overwhelmed him as the pain enveloped his whole body. He vaguely recognised movement as a guard purposefully rose from his seat. Then the deathly rattle of his last breath escaped his being.

    Two hours had passed since his death. The first stirrings of dawn gently broke through the curtain of black. The guards had unceremoniously dumped his body by the rail track, as a warning to others. A piercing horn broke the morning song. Their song turned into shrieks in flight as they rose swiftly into the morning breeze. Shadows of fleeing birds mottled the earth below. Somewhere, far beyond the rail track, paced an expectant wife. She knew things were not alright. She felt it deep within her. A cold, icy shiver toyed within her spine. She shook, trying to let the negativity remain hidden. Their babies would be rising soon, wanting their breakfast. A desperate sickness came over her. She couldn’t hang on any longer. Checking her babies were safe, she emerged from the hideout.

    The dawn’s rays temporarily blinded her. She felt the brisk autumn air coarse through her bones. There was a bitterly cold dampness in the air. Then, like a slap in the face, she caught the scent of death. Her heart stopped briefly as she held her breath. It was true. Her fears had been realised. Slowly, she makes her way towards the source of the scent. Every step felt heavier and heavier, like a dark shadow crushing her body. The enemy began emerging from the daunting metal beast. But, she never even heard them. There, in front of her, lay his body. Black, dried, blood clogged around his neck. He’d been dead a while, she could tell. The smell of decay was beginning to seep into her nostrils. She moved closer. Her mind racing; what would she tell her babies? Where would they go now? How would they survive? The carousel of thoughts were sent into a spin as a large boulder came hurtling towards her. Broken out of her self-absorbent spell, she turned and ran for her life!

    Harry, the big burly guard, walked disgustedly up to the body. “I’m telling ya, Geoff. These traps aren’t workin’! We need some God damn cats. Ma mum swears by them. Contact pest control today! Tonight, I’ll bring in me ma’s favourite Tom to sort out these ‘uns.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll ring ‘em soonas. I can’t stand rats. They give me the goosegobblers.” The two men amble through the soggy ground, pulling up their collars against the autumn wind. They were oblivious to the pair of sorrowful, obsidian eyes that followed them. From the safety of her home, she turned, and with a heavy heart, went to check on her babies.

    A domineering mechanical beast
    Awaits with an electrical hum.
    Her mystical metal arms
    Reach into the night sky.
    Magnificent moon shadows
    Dance upon the ground.
    Cascading curving cylinders
    Catch the stars of light,
    While a myriad of futuristic steel
    Envelops the autumn air.
    She is ready
    To begin her nightshift.

    Any constructive critism welcome!

  5. Fiona Veitch Smith on said:

    Irene, from what I can tell you’re a very talented writer. I loved what you did with the poem about the rose. Don’t worry about prose, we’ll be looking at short stories next. Looking forward to seeing you then.

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