Category Archives: Creative writing

Unknown's avatar

Breathe

by

I heard the poem Breathe while in a car, wending my way through traffic. The words were clear and simple, the final image being of the respite found in a forest where the trees pass no judgement, allowing one simply to ‘be’, free from the stresses of expectation.

Here is the final verse of the poem – best read slowly:

” … and she sat there for hours
not wanting to leave
for the forest said nothing …
it just let her breathe”

Becky Hemsley

Later I looked up the poem and its author. It has been written by Becky Hemsley, and is part of a poetry collection of hers called Talking to the Wild. The second poem that I heard her read was called Like a Girl. Both poems were lovely to hear. They sounded like wind chimes of hope above the dark dark news of conflict that flared up later on the news.

(My thanks to Becky for allowing me to use the final verse of her poem in this post)

Here she is reading Like a Girl

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Unknown's avatar

Another look at Demon Copperhead

by

Today was another day on my course looking at children’s literature. I love the course and the writing we’re being shown.

This morning we were looking at the techniques writers use to reveal their characters. One example, aimed at 9 -12 year-olds, was the opening section from Dread Wood by Jennifer Killick. In a few short pages she describes the gang at the core of the book, introducing them to us through the main character by showing us what he thinks of them. Then she uses the gang’s words and behaviour to tell us more about the main character himself. The descriptions are so skilful and quick that they caught my attention with only a few lines.

After looking at Dread Wood and other examples, we were asked to think about books we’d read ourselves. How did they introduce us to their protagonists?

My book, my only recent read, was Demon Copperhead by Barabara Kingsolver. Not a children’s book, but with a growing child at its core. I opened the book up again and started to look. The voice came at me loud and original – self-deprecating, real, urgent. It’s the voice of the ‘I’ of the story, Demon Copperhead. He’s the “little blue prizefighter” who took me from the minutes before his first breath, right to the end of the book. Branded by his birth as the “Eagle Scout of trailer trash”, and orphaned not many years later, life in his struggling community was never going to be easy. Could have all been miserable, made me walk away, but there was that voice that carried me towards the risk, the race over potholes to the end.

How did Barbara Kingsolver do it? I’m not sure exactly, but she made it look easy. All I have discovered is that it’s not.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Unknown's avatar

Attention grabbing – the first sentence

by

There are two reasons for this postcard today. The first is a course I did looking at the opening lines in children’s literature, and the second is a headline I heard on today’s news.

I’ll start with the headline. This is from The Straits Times: “US military asks for help finding its lost stealth jet” Losing a stealth jet? Of course I want to know happens next.

It’s the same with the first sentence of each of these novels, picked from the bookcase a few minutes ago.

“Wilson sat on the balcony of the Bedford Hotel with his bald pink knees thrust against the ironwork.” The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene

“I discovered the hiding place because the ball ended up there.” The Day Before Happiness by Erri De Luca

“I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice – not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother’s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.” a prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving

“Two years before leaving home my father said to my mother that I was very ugly.” The Lying Life of Adults by Elena Ferrante

“At 7.45 on the morning of November 28, 1931, a young woman in the first stage of labour was handed by her husband into Lismore’s only hackney-car.” Wheels within Wheels – The Making of a Traveller by Dervla Murphy

“There is a fish in the mirror.” This Mournable Body by Tsitsi Dangarembga

For me, each of the above is like a keyhole, giving a glimpse and tempting me to step inside and close the door.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023