English News
Young Writers' Festival
Every fortnightly Wednesday from March, selected finalists of the City of Casey Fresh Words Writing Competition of 2020 had an online meeting, named ‘Words, Writing, Wonder’, to plan the Young Writers’ Festival. Designed by young writers, for young writers, the two-day festival originally included workshops with authors, live readings, Q&As with Australian authors, spoken word poetry and more. The meetings were very welcoming, and gave all participants the opportunity to engage in planning thoroughly. Kaci Hillis and Millicent Bishop, hosts for the planning of the festival, kept them engaging by integrating many types of writing exercises ranging from blackout poetry, 5-word prompts, character-building, and much more to nurture our talents and dedication to such an area.
Although the festival was eventually held online due to COVID-19 restrictions, it was still a success with many participants attending virtual workshops.
One of the most exciting parts of this event was writing workshops with four award winning Australian authors - Joel McKerrow, George Ivanoff, Emilie Zoey Baker, and Cath Crowley. There was a range of age groups present in the workshops, and this made them a highly insightful experience. It was extremely impressive to see how many Nossal students - Sajida Zahedi, Lola Sargasso, Kuhu Sharma, and Jashan Suran - were present, and shaped and influenced the way the Young Writers’ Festival was hosted. The meetings were a time of wondrous epiphany, and the experience has manifested itself as a cherished memory in all participants. Even though it had to be held online, it was an opportunity to collaborate with others and extend many skills for a wonderful event.
Jashan Suran & Kuhu Sharma
Year 10
Creative Writing Success
Congratulations!
to
Lola Sargasso
Lola Sargasso was awarded first place in the City of Casey’s Fresh Words competition for both Creative Writing and Poetry, in the Years 10-12 age-group.
This is a wonderful achievement!
You can read Lola’s work below:
A Lie Is A Dainty Thing
Half-hidden in pretty trim, the lie is there.
A constant weight, it takes on shadow
And sinks ever further into the fen.
It minces through the silvery halls of thought,
Escorted, of course, by subtle words
That wrap it tightly in perfect ermine.
It lingers in darkened corners, sitting
Quietly by while others dance, the single
Stable fixture in a world awhirl.
It whispers tenderly of ancient wrongs,
Coyly reminisces, laughs, provokes new
Enmities then slinks away, cat-like.
It nudges them to action, smiling while
Women pull pistols from their
Pristine handbags for a cruel whim.
Gently, with tact, the lie makes its way
Through the silence, brimming with decay,
And locks the door behind it.
Lola Sargasso
Year 11
Yellow Boots
It was raining when Audrey brought Jess to the library for the last time. The smell of it was pervasive, seeping under the doors and infusing the musty rooms with a rich wetness. Audrey hung up her raincoat and foldable umbrella, both slick and wet, on the stand beside the door, and walked with purpose into the body of the building. Jess lingered a little longer after removing her yellow rubber gumboots and placing them down conscientiously. Her fingers found the whorls in the varnished wood and began to trace their pattern down to the carpeted floor.
“Come on, Jess,” Audrey called from out of sight and the girl hastened after her sister, pausing once to look back at the beads of rain dappling the windowpanes before turning the corner and disappearing. When she reached her, Audrey was standing in front of the rows upon rows of bookshelves that composed the Reading Room. She stared blankly out, and when she spoke it was with the lost voice of a child, “D’you remember when we first came here with Mum and Dad?”
Jess nodded, mutely, and Audrey responded to her silent affirmation with a practiced ease. “The bookshelves went on forever and every time we came there was a different story. I guess you probably don’t remember, huh?”
No response followed this question. Jess had begun to drift through the rows of bookcases, running her fingers across the spines of the more easy to reach books as she went. Smiling faintly, Audrey trailed after her.
They made their way into the Reading Room wordlessly, holding hands, taking the path Jess had begun. Eventually, Audrey broke the silence. “I’m really going to miss it, you know. Being in the library. When we move away.”
She paused for a while, letting this sink in, then continued hurriedly, “I’ll still have the moments from here, though.” Jess nodded absently, as if hearing her from a great distance.
As they walked, languor imposed itself upon them. Audrey continued to murmur to her sister in a flood, but Jess had stopped responding, focused instead on their slow journey through the Reading Room.
“Once, Dad read us George and the Dragon and I worried about the dragon and his family so he told us that it was alright because he was just faking being dead and that he went home and became an astronaut. We played space for a week afterwards, and I told Mum that I was going to be the first girl on Mars.”
The wooden shelves massed before them, looming and casting deep shadows.
“And then another time we read a pop-up Puss in Boots, and I pulled off one of the feathers in his hat and stuck it in my mouth. Mum nearly had a fit when she found out.”
A pinpoint of light appeared at the end of the hallway. As they walked towards it, it grew into the warm halo of the Reading Room doorway.
“On my birthday when I was eleven we came and Mum read us my brand new copy of Peter Pan, and you looked at the pictures in the library’s copy so that you could be included.”
The doorway was directly in front of them now and Audrey stepped forward to enter it, but Jess turned at once to head again into the dark room. They remained in stasis on the threshold.
“I never really liked Peter Pan,” Audrey said, facing her sister and forcing her to make eye contact, “It’s too sad. Dad had to change the ending in mine so that Peter stayed with Wendy and everything ended happily. But it felt wrong as he read it, Jess. Sometime or other, you have to let go of make-believe. You have to stop pretending. See?”
Jess dropped her eyes. Audrey said first, “Jess, please. Say something,” and then, softer, “I’m sorry.” With this, she released her grasp on her sister’s hand.
“Bye, Audie.” The words stung as they hit their mark and Audrey turned around in despair, but her sister had already disappeared back into the Reading Room. Slowly, she turned away once more. It was still raining when she went back into the foyer, and the librarian greeted her with a nod as she removed her raincoat and foldable umbrella from the stand. There was no longer a pair of yellow rubber gumboots waiting next to it, nor was there a sign that there ever had been.
Lola Sargasso
Year 11