No Shortcuts
Creative writing, hooray! Anyway, despite a poor turnout we're on to travel writing. Our in class task was as follows: Pick three places, one somewhere you've been to that you want to go back to; one somewhere that makes you glad to be here; and a third that you've never been to but would like to. Write a list of sense impressions about each place, then pick one and expand into a piece on the place.
So Place One, where I've been and would like to go back[1]: Beach at Greymouth, New Zealand[2].
Smells of sand and salt. Driftwood monsters. Cloudy grey, steel grey water, almost mist. Wind comes off the sea, waves crash.
Place Two, which makes me glad I'm in class: New Street Station, Birmingham[3]. I expanded my notes so rather than be redundant, here's the full piece, in real sentences:
Coffee and cake, beer and sausage. Brandenberg gate, statue high. Sound of cars, hard sound of German voices.
Gone a little cliche there, but that's what happens with a place you've never been.
So the homework from last week. Task: Write a poem (or 2 or 3 short poems, or prose) which truly captures the essence of a specific place. Use the senses to help evoke and enhance this. No more than 250 words.
So on to a travel writing piece for my assignment. Your assignment is the one at the top - pick three places and sense words that describe it. Go!
[1] This is, of course, one of the times and places I summon up when under stress.
[2] Mum reminds me of her story about Greymouth; her and Dad having arrived there late afternoon they attempt to go out to dinner. The first two places are full, and they see several couples with the men in shirt and jacket, and thee women in dresses. All this on a Tuesday night! They get to a third place and find they have one table as a couple haven't turned up. The heart decorations around the bar then give it away; they've lost track of the dates while travelling and it's Valentine's day.
[3] Birmingham got it in the neck a bit in class. The station gets the thumbs down from me, not just because I don't like it, but because I will inevitably go back there.
[4] "What's it a metaphor for?" I was asked. It's not a metaphor, but it has a subtext, as I said, although with about five times as many words and much less clearly.
So Place One, where I've been and would like to go back[1]: Beach at Greymouth, New Zealand[2].
Smells of sand and salt. Driftwood monsters. Cloudy grey, steel grey water, almost mist. Wind comes off the sea, waves crash.
Place Two, which makes me glad I'm in class: New Street Station, Birmingham[3]. I expanded my notes so rather than be redundant, here's the full piece, in real sentences:
The stark lights make sharply defined shadows as the tracks hum and whir. Strange clanks and roars come from unknown directions. Yells and unexpected drafts come out of mysterious holes in sight obscuring concrete walls, carrying the odour of oil, metal, fried food and disinfectant. Rumours spread that the train is late. Again.Place Three, never been but would like to: Berlin.
Coffee and cake, beer and sausage. Brandenberg gate, statue high. Sound of cars, hard sound of German voices.
Gone a little cliche there, but that's what happens with a place you've never been.
So the homework from last week. Task: Write a poem (or 2 or 3 short poems, or prose) which truly captures the essence of a specific place. Use the senses to help evoke and enhance this. No more than 250 words.
ShortcutAnyone recognise it? I included what's called a semantic field, which is lots of words to give an impression of something[4]. In my case lots of sneaking words, as though I'm not supposed to be there. (The semantic field example used was Romeo and Juliet, where lots of religious imagery is used to show that this isn't just a teenage crush).
The ghost of smoke clings to me
My footsteps muffled on the dew-sodden path
Hidden by the night shadows
Between high hedges
Fresh cut grass and damp earth
Their flavour overlays the clean wet air
Branches rustle as I push past
The cool night chilled with a colder spray
The moon sneaks between two trees
Light glistens off the ground and the leaves
A far off rumble as a lorry
Vibrates the quiet tree-lined track
Looming from the dark is a house
No, a shed, giving off a rich smell
Rotting wood and mould its
Shadow hides a puddle that I splash through
Emerging between two bushes
Onto the verge of the road
A sudden roar and glare of lights
As traffic tears through the darkness
So on to a travel writing piece for my assignment. Your assignment is the one at the top - pick three places and sense words that describe it. Go!
[1] This is, of course, one of the times and places I summon up when under stress.
[2] Mum reminds me of her story about Greymouth; her and Dad having arrived there late afternoon they attempt to go out to dinner. The first two places are full, and they see several couples with the men in shirt and jacket, and thee women in dresses. All this on a Tuesday night! They get to a third place and find they have one table as a couple haven't turned up. The heart decorations around the bar then give it away; they've lost track of the dates while travelling and it's Valentine's day.
[3] Birmingham got it in the neck a bit in class. The station gets the thumbs down from me, not just because I don't like it, but because I will inevitably go back there.
[4] "What's it a metaphor for?" I was asked. It's not a metaphor, but it has a subtext, as I said, although with about five times as many words and much less clearly.