Creative Writing
Capturing the moment-one detail at a time…
How do I create imagery in
writing?
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Use figurative language
Use active verbs, not passive
Use expanded moments
Use concise vocabulary
Use dialogue
Use an appeal to the senses
Practice…makes permanent
Directions: Add more detail to each kernel sentence. Use the
techniques we discussed.
1. The boys stared at the
piglet, stuck in the
undergrowth.
Practice…makes permanent
Directions: Add more detail to each kernel sentence. Use the
techniques we discussed.
2. The grief-stricken man
saw a figure in the night
shadows.
Practice…makes permanent
Directions: Add more detail to each kernel sentence. Use the
techniques we discussed.
3. The fish swam toward the
woman.
Practice…makes permanent
Directions: Add more detail to each kernel sentence. Use the
techniques we discussed.
4. The boy did not want to
be noticed as he rode his
bike out of town.
Practice…makes permanent
Directions: Add more detail to each kernel sentence. Use the
techniques we discussed.
5. The lonely dog howled.
Practice…makes permanent
Directions: Add more detail to each kernel sentence. Use the
techniques we discussed.
6. The violent storm
attacked the harbor.
The Originals…
1.They were in the beginnings of the thick forest, plonking with weary feet on a
track, when they heard the noises---squeakings—and the hard strike of hoofs on
a path. As they pushed forward the squeaking increased till it became a frenzy.
They found a piglet caught in a curtain of creepers, throwing itself as the elastic
traces in all the madness of extreme terror. Its voice was thin, needle-sharp and
insistent. The three boys rushed forward and Jack threw his knife again with a
flourish. He raised his arm in the air. There came a pause, a hiatus, the pig
continued to scream and the creepers to jerk, and the blade continued to flash at
the end of a bony arm. The pause was only long enough for them to understand
what an enormity the downward stroke would be. Then the piglet tore loose from
the creepers and scurried into the undergrowth. They were left looking at each
other and the place of terror. Jack’s face was white under the freckles. He
noticed that he still held the knife aloft and brought his arm down replacing the
blade in the sheath. Then they all laughed ashamedly and began to climb back
to the track.
“I was choosing a place,” said Jack. “I was just waiting for the
moment to decide where to stab him.”
From The Lord of the Flies by William Golding page 31
The Originals…
2.
While I watched the tempest, so beautiful yet terrific, I wandered on
with a hasty step. This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits: I clasped my
hand and exclaimed aloud, “William, dear angel! This is thy funeral, this thy
dirge!” As I said these words, I perceived in the gloom a figure which stole from
behind a clump of trees near me; I stood fixed, gazing intently; I could not be
mistaken. A flash of lightning illuminated the object and discovered its shape
plainly to me; its gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect, more hideous
than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filth
demon to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could he be (I shuddered at
the conception) the murderer of my brother? No sooner did that idea cross my
imagination than I became convinced of its truth; my teeth chattered, and I was
forced to lean against a tree for support. The figure passed me quickly, and I
lost it in the gloom.
From Frankenstein by Mary Shelley pages 59-60
The Originals…
3.
The woman continued to swim away from the beach, stopping now and then to check her
position by the lights shining from the house. The tide was slack, so she had not moved up or down the
beach. But she was tiring, so she rested a moment, treading water, and then started for shore.
The vibrations were stronger now, and the fish recognized prey. The sweeps of its tail quickened,
thrusting the giant body forward with a speed that agitated the phosphorescent animals in the water and
caused them to glow, casting a mantle of sparks over the fish.
The fish closed on the woman and hurtled past, a dozen feet to the side and six feet below the
surface. The woman felt only a wave of pressure that seemed to lift her up in the water and ease her down
again. She stopped swimming and held her breath. Feeling nothing further, she resumed her lurching
stroke.
The fish smelled her now, and the vibrations—erratic and sharp—signaled distress. The fish
began to circle close to the surface. Its dorsal fin broke water, and its tail, thrashing back and forth, cut the
glassy surface with a hiss. A series of tremors shook its body.
For the first time the woman felt fear, though she did not know why. Adrenaline shot through
her trunk and her limbs, generating a tingling heat and urging her to swim faster. She guessed that she was
fifty yards from shore. She could see the line of white foam where the waves broke on the beach. She saw
the lights in the house, and for a comforting moment she thought she saw someone pass by one of the
windows.
The fish was about forty feet from the woman, off to the side, when it turned suddenly to the left,
dropped below the surface, and, with two quick thrusts of its tail, was upon her.
From Jaws by Peter Benchley pages 4 and 5
The Originals…
4. That
night, Jonas was forced to flee. He left the dwelling shortly after the sky became
dark and the community still. It was terribly dangerous because some of the work crews
were still about, but he moved stealthily and silently, staying in the shadows, making his
way past the darkened dwellings and the empty Central Plaza, toward the river. Beyond
the Plaza he could see the House of the Old, with the Annex behind it, outlined against
the night sky. But he could not stop there. There was no time. Every minute counted now,
and every minute must take him farther from the community.
Now he was on the bridge, hunched over on the bicycle, pedaling steadily. He could see
the dark, churning water far below.
He felt surprisingly, no fear, nor any regret at leaving the community behind. But he felt a
very deep sadness that he had left his closest friend behind. He knew that in the danger of
his escape he must be absolutely silent; but with his heart and mind, he called back and
hoped that with his capacity for hearing-beyond, The Giver would know that Jonas had
said goodbye.
From The Giver by Lois Lowry pages 163-164
The Originals…
5. With
the aurora borealis flaming coldly overhead, or the stars leaping in the
frost dance, and the land numb and frozen under its pall of snow, this song of the
huskies might have been the defiance of life, only it was pitched in minor key
with long-drawn wailings and half-sobs, and was more the pleading of life, the
articulate travail of existence. It was an old song, old as the breed itself—one of
the first songs of the younger world in a day when songs were sad. It was
invested with the woe of unnumbered generations, this plaint by which Buck was
so strangely stirred. When he moaned and sobbed, it was with the pain of living
that was of old, the pain of his wild fathers, and the fear and mystery of the cold
and dark that was to them[also] fear and mystery. And that he should be stirred
by it, marked the completeness with which he harked back through the ages of
fire and roof to the raw beginnings of life in the howling ages.
From The Call of the Wild by Jack London pages 37-38
The Originals…
6. Then without warning the tempest broke. With the rapidity which, at the time, seemed
incredible, and even afterwards is impossible to realize, the whole aspect of nature at once
became convulsed. The waves rose in growing fury, each over-lapping its fellow, till in a
very few minutes the lately glassy seas was like a roaring and devouring monster. Whitecrested waves beat madly on the level sands and rushed up the shelving cliffs; others
broke over the piers, and with their spume swept the lanthorns of the lighthouses which
[rose] from the end of either pier of Whitby Harbour. The wind roared like thunder, and
blew with such force that it was with difficulty that even strong men kept their feet, or
clung with grim clasp to the iron stanchions…To add to the difficulties and dangers of the
time, masses of sea-fog came drifting inland—white, wet clouds, which swept by in
ghostly fashion, so dank and damp and cold that it needed but little effort of imagination
to think that the spirits of those lost at sea were touching their living brethren with the
clammy hands of death, and many a one shuddered as the wreathes of sea-mist swept by.
From Dracula by Bram Stoker page 96
Identifying Descriptive Writing
Techniques
• In the original writing, highlight and label:
– All types of figurative language
– Excellent word choice
– Verb tense
– Appeal to senses
– Smiley Face Tricks (expanded moment,
magic 3)
It’s your turn to give it a try…
• For this writing assignment, you will be writing a
narrative scene that creates a mood and builds
suspense.
• You MUST choose a topic or focus that you are able to
expand upon and describe in MUCH DETAIL.
• You MUST completely organize the scene on a chart
BEFORE writing it. You may choose whatever type of
graphic organizer you would like to use.
• You are NOT writing an entire story plot.
• Follow the guidelines on the rubric given to you by
your teacher.