Emily Hodgson Year 7 2013

Introduction by Mars Drum:

Three years ago, I left Melbourne to live in the Wimmera, and so Drawing Time and Writing Time came to an end, much to the dismay of all members. For the last three years, I have been teaching music, wellbeing and literacy in a small primary school, and also facilitating drawing, painting and video workshops with various groups of disengaged youth in Horsham. I have also been painting and writing a lot. 

I was so delighted to hear from Emily about a month ago. Emily had attended weekly Drawing Time sessions since Grade Prep, and Writing Time for the year it ran, 2011. I asked Emily if she was writing and drawing these days, and she sent through her drawings, which you can see on the Drawing Time for Girls blog, and she also sent through this fantastic piece of writing. 

Emily was unsure of how I would receive this piece, even though it had already won an award. This is what she emailed: 

"One other thing is that last year I wrote a piece for school and won 3rd place for the yr 7 short story contest, and my friend won second, but for some reason, our teacher said our stories were quite dark (I dont believe it is but I might be wrong). So it scared all my friends from reading it, is it okay if I send it to you?"

(I replied)

"Please send me your writing!!! You know me, I'd love to see your stories. I love your writing, and "dark" writing can be amazing! I'm sure my own stories I tell kids are considered a bit dark...but that's why they're good ones and popular!! Are people too scared to watch Harry Potter? Those stories are classic dark tales. I love surreal stories, dark through to light."

It saddens me that there might be school teachers who could destroy artistic confidence or discourage budding authors like Emily. I am so glad that my 2011 Writing Time allowed Emily and other girls to write as freely as they like on any subject, and in any style, knowing there would be only positive feedback and encouragement from the other club members. 

Also check out Emily's poetry from three years before, posted below this one. You will see that she, and the other Writing Time girls, were fascinated and inspired by the poetry of one of my favourite poets, Emily Dickenson. I introduced Emily Dickenson to the Writing Time club with her well-known poem:"Because I could not stop for death", and we all discussed her personification of Death as a kindly old gentleman in a black formal suit and a horse-drawn carriage. Emily Hodgson's three responses to Emily Dickenson's work had me spell-bound. 

I am thrilled to present this latest "dark" story from Emily Hodgson. 

A Short Story

‘Crash! Boom!’

 That was all I remember. I knew I had died but somehow I woke up. I woke up in a foreign place, it was peaceful, I lay on the ground staring up at the sky, the clouds looked real, but how could they be? I died.

..................................................................................................................................................................

Walking, observing and searching. Searching for something that could tell me what happened.

I followed a path, a path that felt never-ending, a circle going around and around, the same things passing by with slight variations, a different shaped cloud, the trees branches, similar but never the same.

Night, stars, everything. How could this universe exist? How could two places, so similar exist at the same time? Nothing is exactly the same. You never have the same dream more than once; this place is like a dream, a one and only thing, an individual.

Waking up, birds, sunlight, normal. Normal but not the same. Walking on this new Earth. I still have not seen anyone; all I have seen are trees, Earth and sky. I heard the birds chirp, but I never saw any. Walking, again, finding my way through the trees. Never stopping, aching feet and a chattering mind, these things keep me awake, alive in a world of the dead.

Night falls, and day comes, an infinity loop, with me caught in the middle, the time between night and day, an endless dream.

...............................................................................................................................................................

I keep walking, walking until I finally find something different, another person, a living person in the world of the dead. I run now, running was my highest priority. I reach her, she turns I don’t ask her name, she doesn’t ask mine, we just stare, and then we walk, not knowing why or how we knew that we should, but we both just walked, footsteps in time with each others.

Night was different today, so was day, it was still an endless dream, but with another person in it, it felt like a completely new dream, a new planet to explore.

We talk, first words not ‘Hello’ or ‘nice to meet you’ but:

“How can you be here?” she spoke these words quietly but it was obvious she wanted me to answer.

“I wonder the same thing.” Silence.

“Talking, I never thought that I would ever do this again.” Again silence, neither of us knew what to say, but somehow after minutes of silence, I spoke. I didn’t mean to but I did.

“Do you know why we are here?”

“No”

“Have you seen anyone else?”

“Yes, but only for a few seconds.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You are the only person that has stayed alive here.” She whispered, “People come here but they usually only come for moments and then they just fade away.” She looked up to me, “You’re the only one I’ve seen stay.” She sighed, “I’m Anne.”

“I’m Isabelle.” It’s strange to say my name out loud.

“Isabelle...” she looked at the sky, stars sparkling, she looked back at me and smiled. “Let’s try and find out why we are the only ones here.”

.................................................................................................................................................................

Dreams inside an endless dream, these things shouldn’t happen but yet they do. My dream last night, we were still walking, Anne stopped to rest, I went ahead, and I didn’t see anything but something felt different, I called to Anne but she was too far behind to hear me, I walk forwards and I find something, I look at the ground and see a sort of mist seeping out of the dirt, I crouch down and dig, I don’t see anything, no mist, nothing. I reach into the dirt and my hands close around something, I pull it out, I open my hand, I can’t see it but I know it’s there.

I wake up.

..................................................................................................................................................................

We walk again, I reach into my pocket, I didn’t think I had put anything in my pockets, I pulled my hand out and uncurled my fist, nothing, there was something there but I just couldn’t see it, just like my dream.

 We kept walking, until we hear something, we run until we find the person making the noise, a young girl fading in and out of sight. So this is what Anna meant,

Use the stone; it can give her life, but it can only work once.

I looked at Anna, she couldn’t hear it, it was in my head. I think of my family and going back to them, but then I think of this girl, her parents longing for her to live. Anna broke my train of thought.

“She’s not dead, she’s dying.”

I grabbed the stone and pressed it into the girls hand, she stopped fading and smiled.

With that, in that world I stayed.

But I woke up.

Emily Hodgson

Here are the remaining two pieces from the amazing Emily Hodgson. The first one was posted in September, titled "Boo!"
                                                 THE WOODS

I stumble through the forest. My feet are cut and bleeding. I have been weaving, and now I take a heavy breath and step up onto my hammock. I hear a noise. I try to rest, but I can't control my panic! I become very frantic. I turn around and fall face first onto the ground. When I look up, I see Death! It takes my hand and pulls me up and I get sucked in and that, in fact, is my death!

Emily wrote this piece after our discussion of famous women poets, which included the wonderful Emily Dickinson and her poems about Death. The figure of speech known as "Personification" was introduced to the club. Emily, do you remember I could only recall the first stanza of my favourite of Dickinson's poems, " Because I could not stop for Death"? Well, here it is:

Because I could not stop for Death
by Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death –  He kindly stopped for me –  The Carriage held but just Ourselves –  And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility –  We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring –  We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –  We passed the Setting Sun –  Or rather – He passed us –  The Dews drew quivering and chill –  For only Gossamer, my Gown –  My Tippet – only Tulle –  We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground –  The Roof was scarcely visible –  The Cornice – in the Ground –  Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity –

Emily's next piece:                              

"The Water"

I'm on a boat. 

Oh no! It's wet!

I slip.

I hit my head.

I think I'm dead, but how will I ever know?

I think I'm on the brink of death.

"Wake up, please!"

I hear a wail

And I get washed with water thrown over me from a pail.

"Oh my! You're so pale!"

I hear a sweet voice saying,

"I see a doctor with an evil smile on his face, and then I see him transform shape"

Her voice sounds glum.

She takes my hand and I hear a thump.

I squeal in pain.

I wonder if I'm insane.

But then she said "Dead."

It's hard to believe that Emily is only in Grade 5.

Emily, you must keep writing ...for your whole life! You have a sure talent for it. I am so impressed with these three pieces. More please!

Zeynep March

               PROLOGUE

"What about the snails?"
"They'll be okay in there," I said."It won't be the advantageous time for a few hours."
"But what if the lobbyist comes early?" Waffle asked."What if the whale rises like...like last time?"

I grimaced. Didn't Waffle know that I didn't like that subject? Shouldn't he be restraining from mentioning that to me? I put on a casual expression, and pulled the branches around the snails to conceal them. "Hurry! We'd better get back to your house before anyone realises we're gone."

In the distance, a shape rose out of the water, and a spiral of water spouted out of its head before submerging again.

Emily Hodgson

Emily whipped up three wonderful pieces of writing in one Writing Time session a couple of weeks ago. We were wringing up our personal distant memories as food for our writing, though if you read comments from the last post, you can see that some Writing Timers were digging in their Imagination gardens, rather than their Memory gardens. Read the following three peices, and let us know in which garden you think Emily might be digging!

 And don't forget our new "Spot the spelling mistake" game. The first winner to spot my spelling mistake in this post gets to be the Freeze Freak next session AND first collaborator!!! Hint: You might think "wringing" is a spelling error, but it's not! It's poetic, it's alliterative, and it's allowed!

     

                          BOO!

What's that shadow in the dark? How it is moaning from the figure of a shark? It moves quietly through the pitch black dark. A gust of wind taps me on the back, and I jump!

"Where am I?" I wonder aloud. The rain starts to pour on me directly as it is a storm cloud. I shiver in fright, and take a deep breath. I see a person, but as a cloud. At that moment, I take a step and feel the edge, and I fall just at the ring of a the bell. I couldn't tell who it was, but I heard a person shout "BOO!!!" and I died!

        There are two more fantastic pieces from Emily, to be posted very soon. She is absolutely brilliant at creating a spooky atmosphere. It wouldn't surprise me if Emily ended up an author of spooky fiction.

Thank-you, Emily, I'm really looking forward to reading more of your spine-chilling stories.

White Blanket of Silence

Today there were only five Writing Timers: Sian (who turned 11 today- congratulations!), Greta, Freya, Ingrid and Edie. It was sooooo quiet for most of the session, with heads down low to the table-tops as hands flew across the pages....inventing, describing, reporting, matching, listing, rhyming...

    Freya invented a new game, where she would list nine unrelated words at the top of her page, then write a piece based on linking all the words up into a meaningful paragraph. Edie, Ingrid and I were really into this new game, it forces the imagination to open up even wider than usual to accommodate all the words. Sian was busy collating facts on particular mammals which are usually overlooked by Australian scholars, eg. the Asiatic lion, or the wolverine. She would summarise these amazing facts from one of the Drawing Time reference books on mammals and read them to me. I learnt so much today from Sian, and all the girls. Ingrid was inspired to check out all the strange names for shark types and copy them onto the whiteboard. Did you know there was a crocodile shark?

    And Greta was very busy creating such beautiful poetry. Here is her first piece that tumbled out into her little notebook in a matter of minutes: 

    

           "Rising Wind" by Greta Jakob

A song whistling in the wind comes out of its hiding place

Oh whistling wind Oh whistling wind

Will you sing me a song?           

Greta and I collaborated on two poems also, using the "Pass it on (after one or two lines)" method.

One poem was about rain, the other about snow. This is where the white blanket of silence phrase was developed, summing up not just how snowfall appears in the night, but also how Writing Time can seem, when every girl is so engrossed in writing whatever she wants to write that the sound of a pin dropping on the carpet could be heard.

Freya Van Dyke-Goodman - I remember...

       When I was 3 months old, my family and I were in the bush on a beach in the middle of nowhere. While we were there, I don't know exactly what happened, but suddenly I couldn't breathe! My mum called a hospital, but the only hospital near us was only for adults.  But there was no choice, the people at the hospital put a huge breathing sort of thing on my mouth, and then drove me to a different hospital.

       When I got there, they gave me a pill and I fell asleep. The next thing I knew was that when I woke up, I had a new teddy next to me and a tray of food, and my mum was sitting next to me. Then my mum told me that we have to stay in hospital for two more days.

Miki Redle - UFO Theories

1. There were other life forms, except they eventually became extinct because of climate change. So we eventually will become extinct too, unless we do something!
2. There are no such things as aliens. They are made up science fiction.
3. There are other life forms. They are much more advanced than humans and are making it that humans do not have proof of their existence.
4. There are no more aliens, except for just a few of their kind left.They are trying to escape from humans because humans will lock them up in cages and study them.
5. There are no aliens in this galaxy, but there are if you go through black holes / pink holes.

6. There are aliens, but they are so advanced that humans cant find / detect them.