Tag Archives: writing tuition

The Journey – by Oscar (aged 7)

GorillaOne upon a time there was a prince and princess but one day, in the green land, the king and queen said “You have to go on a journey.” They were a little scared because they had never gone on an adventure before.  After six hours walking they arrived at a dark forest where a magic gorilla held fire flames in his hands to light the way.  Beyond the trees there was a field of flowering fly traps with a strong smell which scared them so they ran and ran.  They found a cave where a wizard told them “you have ended the journey.”

By Oscar (aged 7)

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A Shark Escapes by Dardo (aged 7)

SharkEach day the shark looks for shelter from a big twister.  In the blue water this makes a whirlpool so the shark has to swim away quickly.  His favourite place to hide is amongst the rock caves.  There he swims around having fun and otherwise he stayed in the one spot.  It is fun to be a shark because the blue water is very deep.

By Dardo (aged 7)

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Cows in Winter by Dionara (aged 6)

CowThe cows in the North Pole in winter feel cold.  They like the snowing days.  The blue sky high above was cloudy.  All day and night the poor cows shiver.

 Dionara aged 6.

 

Some of you may be wondering how it is that our students produce the stories that are published on this site.  Well, here is our process.  We hand the children a foolscap page, a pencil and some motivation.  Presently they are looking at the paintings on our walls and choosing that as their subject matter.  In this case Dionara chose a cow (actually the photograph is just the ears and horns of a cow) in a hot stock yard.  I guess in her mind she would prefer the cow to be cooler than it was.  Then we encourage them to expand on that thought.  There is nothing elaborate and at times it requires some coaxing to bring the story out.

The goal is to practise using their imagination, word sounding skills and hands and fingers to form the letters with a pencil (keyboards do not help with fine motor skills at this stage).  We fix up the spelling for the publication but encourage them to have a go at sounding the words and writing the letters for those sounds.  Most of all it has to be fun!

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The Day Rosie Ran Into The Bush by Oscar (aged 7)

CatOn Oscar’s birthday your cat ran into a bush where there were spiders and paddy melons.  The cat was a Chinese cat who was brown and furry under the belly.  Rosie the cat saw a paddy melon and so she ran into a home.  In the house lived a family named The Clays and Mr Clay got a wet mop and swept the cat outside.  Next time Oscar has a birthday the cat won’t run into the bush.

By Oscar – aged 7

Year two in school and what a year of change is expected in our children.  One year ago they were flat out possessing the manual dexterity to control a pencil to write the alphabet.  One year on and they have to learn to formulate letters into words while constructing sentences into a story they are hearing in their head.  How difficult is this?

As adults we, thankfully, have no memory of these difficult years but if you want to put this process into perspective learning to write a short story is about as difficult as learning to approach an intersection in a manually driven car.  Think about this process for a minute – approach the intersection; foot off the accelerator and onto the brake to slow down; revs falling in the motor and now I have to change gear; still slowing and have to do it again; check the intersection as you approach ….. well you get the idea.

We all learn how to drive and eventually we all learn how to write, it just takes time and confidence with a few mistakes along the way.  Time we have, the confidence we gain from those around us.

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Spider Monkey by Dardo (aged 7)

MonkeyAt night in the big Amazon forest the spider monkey hunted.  He went looking for a praying mantis to eat for lunch.  He found one but it was too big to catch for his lunch.  It was scary to catch so he went on looking with his tummy rumbling.

The  end.

Dardo – Aged 7

 “It’s alright, I don’t need you to watch me,” said young Dardo the day he sat down to write his story.   Dardo used to have a lot of trouble writing and it was very frustrating for him.  Now he loves it as he is choosing quite complex words and getting very close to the correct spelling as he sounds out the words he has chosen and writes them at the same time.  Off and running with his new creative skills Dardo is progressing in leaps and bounds writing great little stories that no longer need a translator to understand.  Well Done Mister Dardo.

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The Battle Ship – Angus (aged 8)

SailorOne Autumn there was a battle ship in the Atlantic  Ocean.  It was a black and red and white.  It sailed around doing nothing.  Inside the battle ship the sailors were happy.  There were dugongs swimming around the battle ship.

 Angus, aged 8

Learning to write, particularly for boys, can be a daunting task as they would prefer to not be embarrassed by criticisms of their words.  You see, children are rarely embarrassed by what they say or write.  What embarrasses them are the words we, as adults, say about what they have said or written.  A misplaced laugh or thoughtless “Don’t be silly” comment may have a ripple effect on a young mind that carries through life.  The above short story was encouraged to grow from “A ship sailed on the ocean.”  Isn’t it marvellous what emerges with guidance and encouragement?

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The Wolf – by Dardo (aged 7)

Wolf_It was at night when the snow wolf jumped to snowy island.  He was looking for something to eat.  He spotted a little polar bear but it was too small to share with his family.  He decided to keep looking.

Dardo (aged 7)

Our younger students are encouraged to use their imagination while developing the fine motor skills required to write.  We do not expect them to know how to spell some of the words they wish to use, we just reassure them as they make the best attempt to sound out the word and transfer those sounds to paper.  Sometimes it requires some effort on my part to decipher the written word into the finished product above, but it is always worth the effort.

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Let’s Drink a Toast to the Australian Women’s Weekly!

History is over-looked a bit these days with such comments as “What is it good for?”; “That was then and this is now!” and “What is the point of learning old stuff?”. Our present is, and will always be built upon our past and the only way to progress forward is not to repeat what has been.

Neither are moments in history always created by great men participating in great moments. The truly fascinating past is created by ordinary people performing their jobs under sometimes extraordinary conditions. I have been following this blog as it describes wonderfully that second style of historic person, the ordinary person doing their job.

We may not all aspire to become great moments in history but it is comforting to know that history records as great moments the ordinary person doing ordinary work under extraordinary conditions. It illustrates the importance of education and commitment to doing a job well.

Lynette Finch's avatarQuills Writing Tuition

6 February 1956.

It’s time to salute to a lone voice. The Australian media were mean spirited about Antarctica.  They pushed the line that at some stage there had better be clear financial returns to justify the expense of maintaining a permanent base in such a godforsaken land.

When the Kista left Melbourne, the Right Honourable Richard Casey (the perceptibly tired and emotional Australian Minister for External Affairs) was amongst the crowd of well-wishers gathered to see them on their way. He gave a stirring farewell speech in which he stressed the scientific importance of our Antarctic project. It was essential for Australia to honour our commitment to the International Geophysical Year, he explained.

Harold Campbell, editor of Melbourne’s broadsheet The Age, covered the Minister’s statesman-like speech like this: “Results Please Mr Casey: Australia Steps Up Antarctic Development”.

So you see what I mean. For the press, Antarctica…

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The Fright

first landingMy name is Jonarken from the Cadigal Tribe.  I live around Warrane with my family.  It is the 28th January 1788, a fine morning.  It was just past dawn. I was out in my Canoe having a swim and looking at Rainbow Fish.  I looked out across the sea and coming over the horizon I saw 3 big canoes, then 8 and then 11.

I paddled back to shore and ran into the forest, to look at the big canoes from behind a tree.  I saw ghosts on the canoes carrying short spears.  I was both terrified and amazed!.  Then the ghosts came closer to the shore and got off the giant canoes.  They pointed there little spears into the air, they made loud bangs, like the sound of tree trunks exploding in the scrub fires.  I moved in closer to spy on them.  They were making huts out of strange white material.

I could hear them speaking, but I could not understand what they were saying.  Then they pointed their strange spears at a kangaroo.  The spear made the ‘cracking sound’ and the kangaroo fell to the ground.  ‘How does that happen?’ they were still holding their spears.

Many more white people came off the big canoes.  They started planting seeds to grow, but they never grew.  I went closer, then a white person walked up to me and I noticed the young girl looked friendly so I gave her a piece of fruit. Then she gave me a warm flat square of some sort.  After that I ran to my tribe and told them about the white ghosts and how one is nice and about the big canoes.

They told me to go and spy on them, to get onto the big canoes and see what is inside.  So I went into one of the big canoes and saw lifeless ghosts on the floor – it stank!  Scurrying around the bodies on the floor were strange grey creatures that squeaked and scratched at the still ghosts.  As I watched in horror an alive ghost hit my arm and it stung.

I ran and saw another one, I pushed past, making my way to the top of the canoe.  I jumped into the water and swam back to shore.  I noticed that my arm was bleeding so I ran back to my tribe to tell them my story.

After that it was night time, so I went into my bark hut and on my head I rested the white square the nice girl ghost had given me.  The next morning I went hunting and killed a Goanna and ate it with my family.  The next day I saw the nice white ghost and I gave her some Kangaroo meat from yesterdays hunt.  I left her and went back to my tribe.

When I arrived back at my tribe I heard that we were moving further away.  Behind me I saw the white person.  She had followed me all the way through the forest.  So now the white girl knows the way to her home and she knows the way to mine.  So we can always visit and I hope our friendship gets stronger.

Luke Steele, age 9

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Stealing Lollies

CheetahAll through the hot summer, the tiny cheetah lived unhappily in a stinky council rescue centre where he was born. He was a harmless, spotty cheetah and every day he tried to break out. One day he escaped and ran until he arrived in a forest in a place called Leafy Gully and mysteriously, the first thing he saw was a pink sheep.

“Join my gang and we will steal all the delicious food in Leafy Gully and we can steal candy from little kids and make them cry,” said the cheetah.

The cheetah lived happily in the thick forest and stole food with the pink sheep.

Robby, aged 11

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