- Put simply, writing is an act of courage!
- “This is what we mean when I call myself a writer,”writes artists Don DeLillo, “I construct sentences.”
Ignite your creativity and Imagination!
The course will include the following focal points which will be categorized into smaller topics:
- finding ideas
- writing short/Long sentences
- varying sentence length and structure
- creating fictional characters
- setting, tone and atmosphere
- showing or telling
- writing a realistic dialogue
- simile, metaphor and Irony
- haunting, thrilling and killing
- writing for children
After the course, the students will be able
- to write better and more effective sentences.
- to understand and know how sentences grow and work to form larger texts.
- to think, talk, describe, and write about things, familiar and unfamiliar..
- to acquire a deeper sense of linguistic, syntactic, and semantic options.
- to improve their style in writing.
- to gain basic and advanced strategies that help make sentences longer and more effective to leave the utmost impact on the reader
- to master secrets of elegant prose style
- to appreciate and imitate the rhetoric of great writers.
- to expand their varieties of writing options.
10. to articulate a more profound sense of the English language.
11. to gain the first important steps in a career in writing.
Samples of creative sentences
Cumulative sentences that start with a brief base clause and then start picking up new information much as a snowball gets larger as it rolls downhill, fascinate me with their ability to add information that actually makes the sentence easier to read and more satisfying because it starts answering questions as quickly as an inquisitive reader might think of them, using each modifying phrase to clarify what has gone before, and to reduce the need for subsequent explanatory sentences, flying in the face of the received idea that cutting words rather than adding them is the most effective way to improve writing, reminding us that while in some cases, less is indeed more, in many cases more is more, and more is what our writing needs.
The man who had always believed that violence was not the solution to any problem clenched his fist and headed back into the bar
He went to speak to Mrs. Bean, tiny among the pillows, her small toothless mouth open like an “O,” her skin stretched thin and white over her bones, her huge eye-sockets and eyes in a fixed infant-like stare, and her short white hair sparse and straggling over her brow.
His name was Rambo, and he was just some nothing kid for all anybody knew, standing by the pump of a gas station at the outskirts of Madison, Kentucky. He had a long, heavy beard, and his hair was hanging down over his ears to his neck, and he had his hand out trying thumb a ride from a car that was stopped at the pump. To see him there, leaning on one hip, a Coke bottle in his hand ands a rolled-up sleeping bag near his boots on the tar pavement, you could never have guessed that on Tuesday, a day later, most of the police in Basalt County would be hunting him down. Certainly you could not have guessed that by Thursday he would be running from the Kentucky National Guard and the police of six counties and a good many private citizens who liked to shoot. But then from just seeing him there ragged and dusty by the pump of the gas station, you could never have figured the kind of kid Rambo was, or what was about to make it all beg.
A modest proposal
I have been assured by a very knowing American friend of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.
Of all bad deeds that, under cover of the darkness, had been committed within wide London’s bounds since night hung over it, that was the worst. Of all the horrors that rose with an ill scent upon the morning air, that was the foulest and most cruel.
The sun- the bright sun, that brings back, not light alone, but new life, and hope, and freshness to man- burst upon the crowded city in clear and radiant glory. Through costly-coloured glass and paper-mended window, through cathedral dome and rotten crevice, it shed its equal ray. It lighted up the room where the murdered woman lay. It did. He tried to shut it out, but it would stream in. If the sight had been a ghastly one in the dull morning, what was it. now, in all that brilliant light!
– They slept having finally found a campsite sheltered from the freezing rain.
– They slept, the man simply collapsing on the bed, the woman first seeing what TV channels were available
– They slept, and they dreamed.
– They slept, a sleep deeper and more relaxing than they have dreamed possible, a sleep that was itself undisturbed by dreams.
– They, who have never before considered sleep a luxury, slept.