Creative Life Writing - Essay Example

Life Writing The nighttime was unpleasantly cold. Maureen sat back and remained still on her bed, struggling not to tremble. Any motions or move about could be heard by the other mean convent sisters. She tried to control her breathing, in order not to trigger the nausea in the extraordinarily freezing air despite the fact that her heart wanted to beat its way out of her chest. Her body was uneasy, as she had to wait for the morning almost throughout the night. Finally, it was morning, and the chattering and babbling noises of morning birds reverberated throughout the trees. Moreover, she knew she had finally walloped the recognizable gold of her patience. Enthusiasm endangered to compel her gulp of air into unbalanced struggle for breath, but she tried to remain in control of herself. By now she knew the other sisters were up. She challenged to turn her head over so steadily, to look closely through the spaces between the beds in the dormitory. A pair of shimmering eyes in the narrow glow bounced in her direction. Then she reckoned she would have only seconds. They drew more rapidly, and she allowed her muscles to be overwrought, set for confrontations she would have to face, she thought to herself. Without warning, there was a heavy tap on her shoulder and what followed was the glare of two big eyeballs and a hoarse voice saying, “Getcha loaf off the bed you muppet!” Maureen starred at Mother Teresa and in her head said to herself, “I wonder if she knows the Jesus, she preaches about.” “I am having a bad dose, Mother Teresa,” Said Maureen. The look from the gigantic woman made Maureen’s arm move of its individual agreement as she tried to lift her helpless body off the bed. Maureen’s feet reached for the ground. She howled while yawning and gurgled stretching her muscles after a long night. She put on her sandals and walked down the hallway, knowing the routine it was time for morning prayers before taking breakfast. By now, Maureen could not hold her nausea anymore as she headed hurriedly for the bathroom. When there she let it go, and it took all her energy making her sit on the floor despite how unhygienic and unthinkable it was. She slowly opened the door and soon after noticed a shadow below her feet. When she looked up she could see the silhouette of a gigantic woman before her, as the sunlight rays made it difficult to tell who it was. She moved towards Maureen and said, “Relax my child, it is me Angela.” Maureen then stepped back in a manner to hide her face from the blaring sunlight. As she regained her sight, she noticed an elderly woman was staring at her belly. She then said, “how’s the body me little child?” Maureen replied, “Am doing just good sister.” But Angela became persistent and asked, “And why are ya spoofing off ya mouth here?” Maureen then looked down and said, “You must not tell anyone of this but am up the duff Sister.” Angela sat down next to her in astonishment. “How is that even possible? You are a very young lad!!” The day went on, and they undertook their daily chores around the convent. Maureen would struggle through every tick of the clock. Every time Angela would try to do her stuff next to her. They were pruning the garden later on in the afternoon that day when Maureen slipped and fell on the ground. She made such a big “Thud!” that every sister stopped whatever they were doing and rushed towards her. She was unconscious for hours as the sisters tried to resuscitate her. When she got up, she was in her convent bed. It was way past dinner time, and she was so hungry. She stood and down the hallway she went. As she walked all the way through to the kitchen, she heard heavy footsteps walking in her direction. She saw the shadow grow longer towards the wall and the clusters became louder by every step. “At this time? Doing what you maggot?” Mother Teresa barked at her. She could hear nothing else she said but a distant heartbeat in her own chest. Her heart gained beat rate by every word Mother Teresa uttered. Maureen then backed off slowly and walked towards her room. The night was just as long as the previous, but this time the air tore her skin apart as it was raining outside, and the wind would blow heavily into her room through spaces between wooden walls. After a long struggle searching for sleep, a voice murmured coupled with gentle shoulder tap, “Hey young girl. Get up.” She could only see the silhouette of three people standing before her. It was three sisters one of them being Angela. The helped Maureen get off her bed and led her out to the hallway. They then told her that the Mother convent was coming for her because she had found out that she was pregnant. They told her that she had to escape because the sin she had committed, especially at her tender age, was punishable by isolation and whipping every day till birth. “Latcheeco, you would die if you do not run away from this place.” Angela said. They ran out fast toward the main exit door and then behind the convent, where they helped her jump out the perimeter wall. “Thank you so much Sisters. In my all life, I will by no means fail to remember you. God bless you and gluck tah yeh!” As Maureen jumped down the wall, Angela could help but she said last goodbye as tears rolled down her cheeks. Then abruptly there was bright lanterns running towards Angela from inside the convent the followed by many shouts, “Get her! She helped her escape!” Then Maureen knew it was the police who had arrived and that Angela would be taken to custody or even prison. So she just ran away crying, and as she was in the proximity from the convent, about a mile away, she could see many men on horses running in her direction carrying lanterns. She hastily jumped into a nearby thicket though she could barely see through the thick darkness of the night. Then almost immediately, about ten men rode past where she was hiding as one who seemed to be their leader said, “Stop! I do not think that the villain has gone that far! Spread around, and search everywhere leave no stone unturned. I want that goon dead or alive!” Maureen was holding her breath as long as it could take. Then the men on horse passed near where she hid, and one of them went in her direction. Then she took a little rock and threw it a few meters from her place. The man jumped down the horse and went towards the direction where the rock had landed. Then Maureen tiptoed towards the horse and jumped on the saddle and off she rode! The man tried to call his colleagues but by the time they had arrived at his place, Maureen was far gone. They then rushed towards where she had fled to and for many miles they rode in vain. It was almost dawn when they found the horse, but it was without its saddle, and that is when their commander said angrily, “She is good! She tricked us into following the horse yet she abandoned it long ago. Gentlemen, just go home we will get her!” Maurine was always hiding her face everywhere she went, trying to avoid people till a week later when she got to the train station. But, unfortunately, she could not take the train because since she did not have any ticket money to be paid. After three days of begging for food at the train station, one day the station guardsmen were kicking her around trying to chase her away from begging in the station. Then an elderly man saw this and was displeased. “Hey! What’s wrong with your people? Leave this woman alone! Can’t you see she is pregnant?” Then guardsmen were laughing, “Is she your girlfriend, lover boy?” one of them sarcastically bluffed. Then the man squatted and said to Maureen, “My name is Steven. Where are you from?” She just stared at him, but she could not even utter a word as she was so hungry and thirsty without energy to get up. Then the kind man helped her up then she murmured, “Thank you, but I will go anywhere away from here.” Then Steven replied, “I am headed for business in England Capital. I’ll pay for you a ticket there.” Then he brought her food and water at the station before the train began the long journey from Ireland to England. On the way, they had so many stops and the kind man kept buying her food and water at every stop despite Maureen never talking to him or anyone throughout the journey. Upon arrival at London after a long and tiresome travel, Maureen was so exhausted and had no idea what to do next after alighting from the train. Of all the things she could see was a big multitude of people with everyone busy and crisscrossing each other as they went through the streets neighboring to the station. “Hey, you know I could use your help madam if you come with me to my home. I could use your services as a maid in my house.” Steven said. With her face lit up for the first time, she said her first words, “Thank you sir. That is very you.” Then they headed down the street towards a waiting bay down a tall building. “Wait for me here. Let me finish up business then I’ll come for you right here.” Steven said as Maureen just nodded. After three long hours Steven came back for her, and they took another train as they headed for Southampton where he resided. This time it was quite a good journey as Steven and Maureen chat on the way throughout the journey. They could talk and laugh so loud that even hawkers and other passersby could think they were a couple. She could now talk about her home back in Ireland, comparing life and places in England to those back home. Steven would joke about her heavy Irish accent which he said was quite not English. They were now heading for Southampton where Steven resided. The terrain was just the ideal green and natural relatively a flat terrain place with a few hills visible off the horizon. They got to Steven’s place and being naïve and now heavily pregnant and tired she just went straight to the bed for sleep upon arrival. The next day during breakfast, Maureen was introduced to the whole family of Steven and the workers. She was then delegated her duties and the work she would be undertaking throughout her tenure there. She took her time adapting to the new surroundings as well as being with child. Maureen lived there for a month, and her pregnancy grew by the day. Each passed as she did her daily routine chores. She had started blending in and knowing people around the countryside. Meanwhile though, they could just listen to the news in the radio about the war and how the armies would raid villages and how people were being killed each and every day. One morning they heard news that the raid forces were heading towards their village, and Steven ordered everyone to prepare as they were to leave as soon as possible to avoid attacks by the raid forces. So they left Southampton and headed for Yorkshire County. They settled in Steven’s brother’s house. Maureen was hereby fascinated with the region. There were many big factories, and it was a very industrialized City. Being England’s capital of finance by then, there were quite a good number of jobs Maureen could get there. Steven then got her a job at a coal mining factory in nearby mining site. She worked there for six weeks struggling with her pregnancy at the same time. She worked so hard that she earned herself a promotion. As every good tale has a bad side, her promotion brought rumbles among the other employees. They complained of her being a woman yet they were men while others complained of her being lazy due to her pregnancy. Others complained of her being a non-native and having a funny heavy accent. She eventually lost her job and Steven could not take care of her more than he had done. By this time, nature was not on her side. Being naïve and now in labor pain, she walked slowly toward the hospital. Before she goes there, she fell down in pain. “Get up! Get up!” she was laying on her bed her eyes opened feeling so light but covered in a sheet with blood spots. Then a lady dressed in white approached her face and said, “It is a girl. Like her mother, She is very beautiful. But you will stay here for a few days as we monitor your situation.” This is when Maureen realized she had delivered her child, but she was all alone in the hospital bed. She was still trying to regain her consciousness as she had lost her memory during child birth. The nurse in white cloth then came back with a chunk of medicine and a glass of clean water. Maureen took it all and said, “Can I have something to eat, please? I could eat the bread of Moses!” Then the nurse replied, “The food is right there on the table next to your bed.” Maureen started eating in a greedy manner suggesting how hungry she was. The nurse sat next to her as she watched her gobble her food with gluttony. When she was she said, “Thank you, and I would like to see my child, please.” The nurse smiled and got out of the room. She walked right back in with a baby in her arms and handed her over to Maureen. “You are so beautiful,” she said as tears dropped down from her eyes. “Your name will be Angela.” Maureen added. Then Steven came into the house but stood at the door and just stared at Maureen speechless. She had exhausted all her hospital money and had nothing even to buy bread for herself yet the infant was also sucking all her energy out of her. She spent some days on the streets of Yorkshire city begging for food from strange passersby. By this point, the baby was crying, and all Maureen could think of was taking her life and that of her kid since she had nothing to live for beyond that point. As she murmured what she contemplated being her last prayers, she felt a soft tap on her back and a woman saying, “The Lord has heard you and has sent me to you. Please get up sister.” When she turned around, she could not believe what she saw. It was Sister Angela who had coincidentally come to her rescue. She gave her new warm clothing and fresh food from the shop. “Her name is Angela. I named her after you Sister.” Maureen said as she looked at her beautiful daughter. Maureen and Angela spent much time catching up. Angela explained to her that she was sent on a mission to rescue young girls who had been lost in the streets. Angela helped her get up as they headed for the rehabilitation centre that was already created at Yorkshire. “Thank you Mary, Holy Mother of God!” Maureen said as she looked up in the blue sky. The steps to creative writing Assemble your information As suggested by Cline and Angier (2010), information includes raw ideas where the plot of the piece of writing is born. Creative writing has two types of relevant information namely: specific and general information. General information embraces just about everything and assembling it is a tiresome and time consuming exercise. It essentially involves education and general knowledge, and can be refined through the customary ways. This is by engaging in reading extensively and having a lively concentration in life, and the environmental setting around you, and specifically in persons, how their lifestyle is, their opinions and their behavioral activities. Go through the information Work over the knowledge, turning it over and around till you see, however, it all fits along. An instantaneous pursuit of meaning may well be harmful. You ought to attempt a refined approach, and march on the subject, observing things from varied angles. If modest oddments of ideas begin returning to you at this stage, write them down, albeit they appear crazy. The more you go through the information, the higher you understand it and the more thoughts you will encompass in writing a creative piece (Cline and Angier, 2010, 16). Let the knowledge bubble The next stage is to let the knowledge bubble away for a short time, keep it on simmer in your mind. One would like to let your psyche work thereon for a time. It’s a decent plan to try and do one thing else for a short time, to stimulate your imagination and emotions. Try reading, being attentive to music, meditating, going for a walk, whereas your mind digests the facts. Let the concepts flow It’s at this stage that concepts ought to begin to appear from all over. One must take the highest concepts you'll be able to come back up with Shape and develop your plan The plan has to be formed and moulded, changed into a real piece of writing. This where your writing skills are applied again Share your plan Now show your plan to others and see what they assume. They will be able to raise it and create it higher. That will spark new concepts, and then the method becomes a lot of inventive ever. Repeat the whole process again from step one to the last step. Amongst the valuable factors anyone may discover out while undertaking innovative composing are: A better knowing of self. One query, an author, must ask himself/herself when considering a set up is, what is the range between the tale this personality is informing and the reader, and probably more challenging, tale that encounter is exposing about his life? The author who first faces these concerns about a personality must earlier or later deal with these concerns him/her. A further and wider knowing of others. The first query a tale or poetry must response is the query of “Who speaks?” Officially, this is known as perspective and it offers not only with the techniques of first, second, or third individual and not only with the essential concerns of the place of the presenter with respect to plenty of duration of the tale and plenty of duration of the informing, or of how many sound system the tale can provide but also with the emotional concerns that notify the speaker’s way of knowing the globe. What does the presenter want? What are the contradictions, prejudices and peccadilloes, recognized or not, which generate the speaker’s choices? What the author is studying, range by range, option by option, is an involvement with concern, the unique knowing similar to “walking in someone else's footwear.” A conflict with efforts and record. Figures come from anywhere. Time performs the changes on place. When an author gets to the query of where we start, or the query of where we end, time is the essential modulator in the creating, or not creating, of significance. The creating of the tale increases these concerns in the author and then the author has to consider with these concerns in his or her own lifestyle. What does it all mean? Is it possible to create meaning? What does the query of significance need of me? the tale or poetry certainly must discover a place to area and the place where the tale or poetry areas is, in one feeling, the whole tale or poetry, because the act of creating experiences and poetry is an act of collecting a consistent whole out of the incredible number of a few moments, moments, time, times, several weeks, and decades available to us in a lifetime. Every tale or poetry, in the nicest feeling, encourages us to ask, what shall we do with our days? Reference Cline, S and Angier, C. (2010). The Arvon book of life writing. 1st ed. London: Methuen Drama. Read More