Tag Archives: kids

Creative Writing Workshops

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I’m pleased to be offering these writing workshop sessions for 7-11 year olds next week at my favourite book shop, the All Good Bookshop in Turnpike Lane.

Each session will be different focusing on a topic that leads into a story or poem.
That means you can book one day or all four. Children don’t need to bring anything as paper and pencils will be provided. If you want to pack a snack for them, that’s fine just no nuts please.

Sessions last an hour from 10:30 to 11:30am Monday to Thursday.

I have been DBS checked.

You can book here: https://allgoodbookshop.co.uk/order-books-1/ols/products/7-11-creative-writing-workshop

Cool Poetry

Some sessions focused on poetry using a refrain about a friend who is an alien monster. The children produced some cool poetry.

Aurelia’s Poem
Aurelia’s Poem

Odd Bod

My friend is a little bit odd
He has the most unusual bod

His legs are so spindly and long
His face is black as soot
As for his hair
Well he just doesn’t care

My friend is a little bit odd
He has the most usual bod

He smells so bad
He has big ears
Eats so viciously
And out of his head
Comes antennas so big

AUREILA

My friend is a little bit odd
He has the most unusual bod

He was eating all the maths books at 9:54
Can’t show his head because it’s dusty
In a certain way
Because he’s old

My friend is a little bit odd
He has the most unusual bod

He is so bad at brushing his hair
He looks like a wild bear
He can’t bear it
He can’t say his prayers

TED

POEM: Bookshop

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Quiet are the shelves
Time to let the words whisper.
Tomorrow they will be noisy.
Shouting stories at customers.
Protesting: buy me!
Medusa will leave you as a stone.
Transfixed before the shelves.
If only you had brought a shield.
But then, it is a bookshop.

This poem came about because I was in my favourite bookshop waiting for the end of day. It made me think of how quiet a bookshop must be at night and how each page of the books had a story to tell and wanted our attention.

Moment 57

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Almost night. The light dims. The time when the big ones sleep. It is your time. Time to rise and stretch. Take a bite. A drink. To explore. A garden of possibilities.
Not star dark yet.
You sniff the air. Feel the night breeze on your face. Stroking you. A distant sound. Dog calling. Too distant for trouble. A jump. A gymnast on a bar. You dance along. Instinct.
Then sit.
This will be the last time. You feel it. In your paws. In your bones. The coming of the end. No more to watch the flight of falling stars. No more to search among the ground for the exciting. You think back to the loves. The wars. They are gone now. Only you remain.
Silver at your ears. Watching the days. But this the last. No more.
The end of nine.

This came about thinking of a twilight memory. It struck me it would be more interesting if it wasn’t a human but an animal thinking of their life. I chose second person as I wanted to put the reader into the body of the animal. To become the animal. To make them closer to the animal. To increase empathy. I think it works.

Book Birthday

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I’m pleased to announce the launch of BAD ELF. This is now available from Amazon for £5.99.

About the book: A fantastical journey with elves, bears, some well-known fairy tale characters, and Father Christmas!

Most elves are happy, kind and love working for Santa making Christmas toys for good little girls and good little boys.
But not Bob.
He’s bad with a capital B-A-D.
And he is fed up. He is fed up with reindeers and making toys for that stupid red-clothed idiot. So he runs away.

Join Bob on his search to find a new job away from the North Pole in a world full of wacky, eccentric characters that will have you laughing out loud.

Available here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1739868501/

POEM: Pants

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New pants are on the scene
Have you ever seen something so supreme?
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday’s best
With a label upon its crest
A symbol of the snuggly feel
That you get from a Sunday meal
Everything in its right place
Puts a smile upon your face
Jump to the left
Hop to the right
With these pants
I’m full of might
I can do anything
In red pants of glory

I got thinking of the time when I was young and we got new clothes. The excitement, particularly of new pants. Bigger pants. They seemed to symbolise growing in age and becoming an older boy.



POEM: Contentment

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Ball of contentment
sweet dreaming of warm log fires
and a little mouse

This poem came about because I was trying out different poetry forms. I like poems with clear structures that constrain you but at the same time free you as you don’t have to worry about how many stanzas you are going to use, or what rhyme pattern you are going to go to battle with. This poem is obviously about my cat and how content he looked settle on my lap before a winter’s fire.

POEM: Words

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Words are watching you
They gather your thoughts
They tell your secrets
They spread lies
and state truths
They can break a heart
They ruin friendships
or destroy an evening
Beware words
They can imprison you
or set you free

This poem came about as I was mindlessly watching tv and thinking of the impact that certain people’s words have had on others. It got me thinking about the power of words and how easily they can be misused to create harm.

STORY: The Breakdown

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The driver looked at Colin with a hopeful face.
‘Can you fix it?’
Colin looked down at the engine and scratched his head. There was a maze of pipes, wires, and tubes of liquid. This really wasn’t his area of expertise.
‘It’s just that it’s new and I borrowed it from dad. I can’t take it back broken,’ the driver pleaded.
‘I’m not sure I’m the right person.’
‘Pleassee. You just got to help.’
Colin felt pity for the young driver. He had been in that situation once. Maybe there was something he could do. It was a long shot.
‘Have you tried switching it off and on again?’
The driver perked up, leant over his dash, and flicked a switch. The engine died to a silence. Then he flicked the switch again. Lights came on. There was a gentle rumble as it sprung into life.
‘It worked! Oh thank you. I knew you were the person to ask.’
The driver hopped into his seat, wound up the window and gave cheerful wave.
Colin stood back by his IT van as the driver and machine flew into the sky.

POEM: Man In The Moon

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Half moon

 

There was a man in the moon,
Who switched the lights off too soon,
Day turned to night,
All people in fright,
Running in fear of the doom.

 

This type of poem is called a limerick.  It was made popular by Edward Lear in the 19th century. I just love these types of poems. They are great fun to write because of the clear structure and rhyme pattern. 

A limerick has five lines with a clear AABBA rhyme pattern:

There was a man in the moon, A
Who switched the lights off too soon, A
Day turned to night, B
All people in fright, B
Running in fear of the doom. A

and a da-de-da-de-da, da-de-da-de-da, de-da-de-da, de-da-de-da, da-de-da-de-da rhythm to it.

Why don’t you have a go?

There are more examples here: https://www.brownielocks.com/kidlimericks.html