Creative Writing Exercises 1

Exercise: Write a paragraph describing a place and imagine that something has happened there. Do not say what the event is.

It's almost as if you can still feel him inside the place. Everything is left the way it was in the front room - jars of wilted flowers; television on static in the corner; dull-green peeling paint clinging to the smoke-stained walls. A small table sits cracked beside a worn armchair marking the only change in the room. A short rope hangs from a beam on the ceiling - coiled into a noose.

Exercise: Write a section of a story in a narrative voice. It can be the beginning, end or middle of a story. The story must have actually happened to you or someone else.

To tell the truth – I laughed when she fell. Probably a little too loud as well. It serves her right for wearing heels on a night out. I looked back up the club's steps and met the gaze of a bouncer. He seemed to also find the drunken girl amusing and made no attempt to help. We shared a look lacking so much emotion that it felt almost inhuman and I turned away. My gaze this time fell upon my mistress of the previous two hours. She had finished on the phone and proceeded to explain that her friends had gone off to a different club; naturally she was going to leave me to find them. Shame. So I got her number before she went and walked back up the steps towards the club. After all, my friends, whom I had lost, were still in there. I hoped.

The bouncer – Eastern European, I might add – held out his hand and stopped me going inside. My delayed and confused face must have looked a treat when I peered up to him with my exaggerated frown.

“Too drunk” said he, so matter-of-factly I wasn't sure how to disagree with him. The fact I did argue with him must have meant I obviously was too drunk – but that's besides the point! I tried to rattle off some spiel about totalitarian bastards being able to get into our heads and judge us. But that probably wouldn't have helped my point, even if I hadn't slurred and fumbled every word. Still, I continued to argue my point that my friends were inside; I had just been inside myself and that I'm hardly going to cause trouble.

“Look at me! I'm a weed! What am I going to do?” I said with my hands held up, presenting my less than impressive build. This, though, apparently didn't matter as it was still possible to start a fight. “But I'm a coward!” I shouted. Probably a little too loud as well. Though it did make them laugh. They let me in as well. Win!

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