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The Writers House has now been open for some time and the content and quality of the pieces is going from strength to strength. Young people writing in so many different creative genres and styles, the depth of thought and imagination contained here is truly inspiring.

All of the work published here comes from young people who want to write & who want to be writers. All of the work is original and shows the extent of the writing talent that exists out there!  All of it & we fervently hope & comes with writing's main credential & the writer really wanted to write.

The Writer's House has lots of rooms - for the poetry, stories, blogs, essays, non fiction, diaries, comedy and there are almost certainly some rooms we haven't yet discovered.

You are the one with the key & not us. We're waiting for poems and stories of course, but we also want your non-fiction work, your blogs and diaries, real or imagined.


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The Writers House has now been open for some time and the content and quality of the pieces is going from strength to strength. Young people writing in so many different creative genres and styles, the depth of thought and imagination contained here is truly inspiring.

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Submission of the month - Award 1

A forgotten past Part 1

by Emily (Award 339), age 14

As most of you know I am the loyal deputy of Thunderclan. You also know I was never always deputy, as for one I had to earn it and for two a deputy could not be a kit. One thing you probably dont know is my past. I have lead many of you on to believe I am fully from Thunderclan but that is not so. My true story began not in the warm nursery of Thunderclan, growing up among the lucious forest, or not in any other clan either. My true story began elsewhere, and ended before I was born. It started with two young loners. One was called Sun and the other Night. Without them I would not be telling this story now. So, it began...

It began one stormy night when a young she cat called Sun searched for shelter, her fur sodden wet. She sniffed around, the few possible places she had found had been occupued by cats who were, lets just say unwilling to share. She was about to give up hope when a bolt of lightning struck a few inches ahead. She half ran, half skidded away and saw a small grass covered cave. She exhaled in relief. She padded inside, water dripping off her echoing all around. She winced. She looked around and began to walk to dry off her fur. Suddenly she heard a startled yelp and let one go herself. Her forepaw was stood on the body of a black cat. It stood up and towered over her. She shivered. "S-Sorry- I-I didnt mean well- I should just, go" she whipped around, embarrassed. She could feel green eyes boring into her fur.
"Wait, do you have anywhere to go?" A gruff voice asked. Sun looked around.
"Well, not really..."
"Then you can stay here." The cat said.
"R-really? I mean- Thank you. My name is Sun." He studied her for a moment.
"Suits you." He grunted. "My name is Night" She looked at him and said, "Suits you" in an impression of him. She stopped abruptly, thinking she had gone too far but Night just laughed. "You're a keeper" he said. She smiled and lay down, fur still dripping, leaving her in a puddle. But right then she couldn't have cared less.
Sun blinked, once, then twice. Where was she? The floor was wet, and the floor was the problem. It was stone. It took a few more blinks for Sun to remember what had happened. She looked across and saw Night lying down, stretched out. She watched the slow rise and fall of his chest and listened to the outrageous snoring he was letting off. She giggled. Night opened one eye and yawned.
"Hey, babe." He said, slurring his words, he saw her giggiling and smirked. "Well I never, I have finally found a cat who giggles more than me."
She laughed.
"Anyways..." he stretched.
"Did you just call me babe?" She said.
He looked at her. "Yeah, don't take it personally." She shook her head, smiling. "If It helps to know I used to call my Mother babe so you ain't no different, babe" He stood up. "You hungry?" He asked.
"Yeah, actually" she replied. "Babe" she added, smiling.
"See! Yo don't take that long to catch on!" He smiled. She laughed and he grinned, "Come on, babe, squirrels don't catch themselves."
He walked out and beckoned her to follow. She did. As the sun lit up his fur she coukd see faint grey stripes lit up on his fur.
 

Submission of the month - Award 2

Let go.

by Emily (Award 92), age 19

I cried as I tried to let go.
I cried and
I cried and
I cried.
I carried on crying until my heart stopped beating.
I missed you.
I miss you.
I lost you.
I didn't mean to,
I didn't want to,
but I did.
And it killed me.
The silver lines defining my wrist were only a temporary comfort,
Until they weren't enough.

Nothing was.

I cried as I tried to let go,
But I couldn't.
And I never will.
 

Comments

user comment Kia-Marie says: This has a lot of inside meaning to people. I'm not sure how many people what this poem is actually about, especially people who feel the same who have delt with similar issues. well done.

user comment Kerrie says: WOW! Very good but very sad

user comment Precious says: Wow Emily, this is great and sad. I
love the quotes you used as well.

Bullet Point View all comments
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