As Creative Writing Coursework Text

Jonathan Friesen - Writing Coach

The basic requirements for the degree are 48 hours of coursework, which includes 3 credit hours for the essay seminar and 6 hours of thesis. The emphasis will be on one writer's understanding in depth of the work of another writer: what was the nature of that writer's craft and how did it develop? the seminar will see each student essay through several drafts, with the final essay being about 5,0 words. The thesis is to be a collection of poems or stories commensurate in quality with materials published by major magazines or presses. Thesis credit may, technically, be earned at any time in a student's career, but it usually comes in the third year.

The thesis itself is to be prepared in consultation with a member of the creative writing faculty who must approve it. The department for education announced on 10 september 2015 that as and a level creative writing cannot be redeveloped under government changes to a levels. Our regulator ofqual currently states that, with the exception of re sits, the last time students will be able to sit exams in creative writing will be in summer 2017 as level and summer 2018 a level. We expect them to be available in summer 2018 as level and summer 2019 a level and possibly as level , but this will be restricted to students who have previously certificated.

Find out more about these changes and which qualifications we are planning to offer in the future. It encourages the development of skills that are essential for further study and a range of professional careers. This a level enables aspiring writers to start on the path to professional practice and is equally useful for anyone interested in improving their creative and critical thinking and communication skills. Introducing students to creative writing, the specification will: help them access their intended career improve their ability to write for a range of audiences develop key skills that can be applied in the real world complement, rather than replicate, the study of english language/literature. Only you imogene taylor had never believed in love at first sight until the day she first saw sean. Just his name alone made her pale blue eyes sparkle with excitement, so it was no surprise that when she whenever she actually saw him her stomach tied in knots and it was all she could do to keep herself from going up to him and running her hands over his perfect body.

Master Thesis Kolloquium

What thoughts had filled her mind in every spare moment before he had come along? surely nothing as fascinating and incredibly perfect as him. From the moment she first saw him in school, she knew he was the one she was meant to be with. She had been at netball practice, warming up, when he had come through the gym doors.

There was something about him whether it was his slow, slanted smile, his emerald green eyes or just the way his golden hair caught the light every time he moved that made her heart skip a beat. She could feel the chemistry between them, even from several feet away, seeming to be twining them tightly together. Her body was burning, her skin tingling the electricity between them so powerful. That must have been it, even though she couldn't actually smell any alcohol on him.

While she waited for him to say something which made more sense, she looked around her. She'd never actually been to this part because she'd never got so drunk that she'd be happy doing anything remotely romantic in somewhere so desolate. The grass beneath her feet was damp with rain, and slippery, and the hills rose up on her right, sheer as walls. They blocked out most of the light that would have been coming from the moon and the stars which hung in the dark navy sky, though most of the light from them had already been filtered through the thin layer of cloud which lay serenely under them.

Five Paragraph Essay Guided Writing Worksheet

In the time they had spent together, he had never raised her voice at her, apart from the day she finished with him, and that had been understandable. I was not ignoring you liam, but i will in a minute if you keep acting like this. Ah! she felt something hit her chest, but it felt blunt and heavy, like something landing on her. Was this how it felt to be stabbed? or was she dead already? her eyes shot open, and she looked up to see liam's body on her and sean standing above, a rock in his hand. She was saved, he had saved her, and she allowed herself to slip into unconsciousness as she felt him pick her up.

Waking up in sean's arms had been come sort of fantasy before, but now things were different. Everything had now been put into a different perspective, and as she saw police cars mulling about and an ambulance speeding away she realized she still liked him, fancied him even, but wasn't infatuated by the thought of him anymore. Now she could like him for who he was, and not the perfect image of him she had had in her head before. As sean saw her eyes open, he smiled at her and gently lowered her to the ground. Once she was standing, she leant into him, placing her lips on his, but he pulled back and looked at her, his green eyes looking intently into hers.

Are you okay? he asked, touching her cheek tenderly, his hand gently sweeping over her tear stained face. Oh sean! she leant forwards again and as he embraced her, she was sure that he was feeling the electric through him which she was feeling. The above preview is unformatted text creative writing coursework it was a cold, crisp winter's night in new york, and i was slumped unconscious on a toilet in doc's diner my arms slashed, and blood dripping steadily from a small, rusty knife in my hand. A bald old man meandered unsteadily into the toilet room, and began to wash his hands in the only working sink.

Suddenly, three frosty blasts of air pulsed harshly through the open window, and i stirred my knife hand trembling, i wobbled my way out of the cubicle, unnoticed to the preoccupied man, and drew up my arm. Seconds later, the man lay on the floor, my hand thrusting the blade into his chest time after time after time. What could only be seconds later, blood still spilling from the deceased man's wounds i opened my eyes and stared in sheer horror at my crime, stuttering 'what have i done?' i rushed to the sink and furiously tried to erase the blood from my arms and jumper. When done, i pulled down my sleeves, and zipped up my coats to hide any blood, and threw the knife out of the window into the night. I managed to compose myself, and assertively stepped through the door into the diner. I needed to get out before anyone else entered the loo, so i headed for the door. 'it's me vin, i need help, i've done something terrible.' vincent was the only way of getting it off my chest.

He would understand, he left when i was 10 to become a priest, and now worked in a small parish near central park. 'meet my near mum's grave in half an hour, i'll be there, i will help you,' he assured me, and the line went dead. It was 8am, and i walked into the cemetery with a small bunch of flowers in my hand. My boots crunching gently through the thick snow, i could hear children playing in the park, and their parents shouting after them. My one desire was to have someone, all i had was the long arm of guilt wrapped tightly around by chest, and the knowing that one day i would be behind bars. Staring at the sad, grey grave of victoria vincent, and brushing away snow and soil, i placed the bright flowers down by the stone, which read, 'beloved mother and wife, the best anyone could ask for.' if only they hadn't gone out that night, if only he hadn't crashed into the petrol station, if only dad hadn't left for europe, maybe none of this would have happened. I saw the wrinkled face of that innocent man in the toilets, and rushed, like a leaping lion, towards the child, shouting 'watch out!' i careered into him, and pushed him over the holes to safety, my body cushioning the blow beneath him.

On of them, with a penetrating glare said 'i'll deal with you later, and rushed the child back to the on running mother. The other picked me up, fastened me in handcuffs, and marched me towards the car park. Going past the sights of new york, the empire state, flat iron and many more, i saw my life coming to an end, gradually fading into nothingness, insignificant. As we rounded the last corner to the station, a great juggernaut came charging towards the police car, and in an instant, smashed into the front. He knelt down by my dying body, and in my last seconds, scooped up a finger of blood and whispered in my ear, 'there's nothing quite like revenge now, is there?'. The above preview is unformatted text celebrities are everywhere, gurning at us from screens, newspapers and magazines, invading the planet like a deadly weed. A list to d list, their eyes follow us wherever we go giant, glossy, empty stares.

Ib Extended Essay Research Questions

She can take a soft pink steak, put it in a pan and out comes the stuff of dreams. Slapped on the plate, on a bed of yellow lettuce is half charcoal brick, half meat ice cream. Read more i walked into the lemon smell of elevator freshener, armpit and cheap perfume: thick, sweet, dirty.

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