End of Camp wrap up

1.) I will most definetly remember all my experiences at camp. However, one experience standsout from the crowd of my memories. That memory is of sitting in with the Sacred writing group. It was really captivating to hear older writers and compare your skill to theirs. I believe when we all walked in that room we began sizing each other up. The adults were listening to us intently to see  how our writing was for our age. I believe the kids were listening to the adults to learn new things. All the pieces were well written, some had more emotion, others had more vocabulary, but either way we all learned something that day from one another.

2.) My favorite part of writer’s camp was definatley the free writing. I could be as creative as  I wanted. My favorite prompt we wrote was either about having a super power or a special person to you. The special person composition I wrote about was entitled My Pop. I poured alot of emotion into that piece. I elaborated more on the piece at my home. When i wrote about having super powers, It gave me a start to a side novel. I am mainly foucusing on a novel called Natureboy, but that propmte an idea for another novel to work on.

3.) I would of liked to do more free writing. I prefer to write freely on a broad topic. I can be more creative.

4.) I would make the camp to have more free writing, on a topic of our choice and a topic choosen for us. I would also like the camp to be longer. One week seems like so little time. It’s gone by so fast.

The truth

Honestly, some of these writing s i’ve posted are quite good. However they are not my best works. My reason behind not posting some of my better works are I’m wary of others taking my ideas. It’s not you guys I’m worried about, It’s the people who take the easy way out by stealing someone else’s ideas

Mrs.White and why she killed him

Put yourself in my shoes. You’ve lived in that God forsaken mansion for 30 long years. I’m forced to work day in and day out, for little pay. I would have left long ago, but I had some small flicker of hope that things would get better. I’m 50 years old and forced to get on my hands and knees to clean a floor as large as a football field. That old rich man does nothing but sit in his leather arm chair while I clean our house. It’s unethical! Does he have any morals?  I mean I’m not batty. Am I? He’s a millionaire, he could hire a few people to help me clean his house. He only uses about four of his twenty rooms, yet I’m forced to clean every room. One day he complained about my dusting while i was cleaning his room. i grabbed an antique hatchet off the wall and fillet him like a fish.

The Tortoise and the Hare…Truthful Version

That old tortoise,he thinks he’s so great. Everyone acts like he’s some wise hero or proverb. he was really just an old fool with lots of tricks. I’m sure you’ve all heard the story of our race….well here’s what really happened. It was a bright sunny day, and I was about to go for a jog. As I was jogging, I went by the tourise’s house, where he promptly stopped me. ” How would you feel about a race”?, he asked. “Why that would be great”! I responded. The following day we met in a large meadow by my house. I began to stretch and loosen up. i didn’t want to sound cocky, but I felt I would defiantly win this race. The tortoise walked over and offered me a glass of water. i thanked him and drank quickly. Little did I know at the time, the tortoise had put a high dosage of sleeping medicine in the water. The whistle blew and the race began. I sprinted with ease and continued to keep up the pace. The finish line came into view. I was about 50 yards away from the finish line. To my dismay, I began to grow tired. My eyelids became heavy,and I  could barely keep them open. I stumbled off the coarse of the race, and passed out under a large oak tree. When I woke up, It had been over four hours and the tortoise had won. He walked around with a smug look as people congratulated him on his victory. He had even created a catch phrase, slow and steady wins the race. I highly doubt that, he hadn’t won fair, he’d used trickery. That old turtle had pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. He had made it look like I’d got cocky, and took a nap in the middle of the race. I may be confident but I’m not an idiot. One day I’ll prove that old turtle isn’t wise, just sly and sneaky. That’s the real story of the tourtise and the hare.