Year 4/5/6 B

Writing Competition 

Written by Emilia Morelli

Last week in 4/5/6B we started planning, mapping and drafting our very own narrative stories for a writing competition called Fishy Stories. See the link here: General 2 — Fish Creek Children's Literature Day

After learning all about the structure and features of strong narrative stories (how to create a strong hook, how to write dialogue, how to develop our characters), we are all writing a creative story on anything we like. It could be a fictional story or we can write about something that has happened to us. We could even have it based on a true story but still be fiction. Here is a wonderfully written example by Charlotte O’Toole: 

Cheeky’s Story

“Rise and shine Margaret” said Lucy, the young carer. “Your grandchildren are waiting to see you.” 

“I don’t have any grandchildren!” She said firmly. Margaret has dementia. She struggles to remember the day to day things, but not the things of long ago. Three young children came rushing in. "Nana, we missed you!” They exclaimed. The youngest child had a small plush bird that caught Margaret’s eye. “What’s that? It looks like Cheeky.” She said in her frail voice.

“Who’s Cheeky Nana?” asked the eldest grandson. 

“Cheeky was a blue and gold macaw. Let me tell you the story of how I met him…” 

“I was about your age when a vicious fire destroyed our village in Peru. My parents went to help a toddler who was walking towards the fire. As they ran, Mama yelled out to me with tears in her eyes “Run Margaret!  Keep running until you reach safety!” So I did. I ran without looking back. I began to get tired but I kept running. I felt a mixture of emotions. Scared. Confused. But most of all… despair. I heard a scared shrieking sound coming from behind some trees. A small macaw, probably three weeks of age, looked as if it had fallen out of a tree whilst its parents were away finding food. I scooped him up and put him inside my furry coat to keep him out of danger. 

I ran until I found the ocean. The waves crashed against the rocks and the soft sand squelched between my toes, but that wasn’t enough to make me feel safe. A cave lay diagonally to where I stood. I slowly walked towards it, with one hand in my coat stroking the bird. When I reached the cave I found a woven basket filled with fruits and vegetables. I sat with the little macaw. We ate.  We slept. We repeated the cycle again and again until a ship came, and with it, so did the angry men. “But that's a story for another time. I've gotta have my tea.” she said with a wink.