MIT Open Course Creative Writing
After looking through many of the fascinating courses available online, I think I am ready to try creative writing. One reason is that creative writing is something that I have always enjoyed doing. As a little girl, I would spend hours writing stories and then making books with brightly colored pictures (which didn’t always correspond to the story but what can I say? I was young). This lasted for years and my poor family would have to suffer through endless readings of ‘my books.’ I still remember my older brother finally ripping one of my books in a rage after I had taken out all his school books from his bag and substituting it with ‘better’ book…my books. He had gone to school unaware of what I had done and was jeered at by all his friends. Young boys are so cruel!
I’m not sure why or when I stopped writing, but my mom always encouraged me to continue reading, and then hopefully I would start writing again. Well, this year, at boarding school, I wrote a poem for class, and my teacher encouraged me to enter it into the Scholastic Art and Writing Award. I wasn’t really expecting anything out of it, and to be completely honest, I forgot all about it. Imagine my surprise when I was told that I was one of the recipients of the Gold Key. I guess this more than anything has gotten me interested in creative writing again, so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone by learning about creative writing more formally through the course, gain some practical knowledge, and apply it to my creative writing this summer. I will share what I am learning and hopefully, I can also add some of the writing that I have been working on.
This is the poem I entered.
The Job
I got the call late one morning
And weary to the bone,
I asked for some time off instead,
“Nope!” said my boss of stone.
“I’m sorry, but she wants the best.
Regrettably, that’s you.
That poor woman was so distraught,
There’s nothing I could do.”
I unfolded my uniform,
So smart and sharply creased.
I felt pride as I put it on,
Soon my weariness ceased.
Not everyone can do my job.
It takes courage and wit.
To face the countless enemies
Against whom I must pit,
All my cunning and subterfuge.
Armed with my gun and traps,
never dismiss adversaries,
Unlike my office chaps.
On the street, people avoid me,
Kids take fright of my gear.
They call me the Terminator
But never when I’m near.
They knew the work I did each day
Made the world much better.
I went to places most men feared.
Fear wins if you let her.
Gun in hand I marched into war.
I knew death would be close.
Had no time to take it all in
When the enemy rose.
Gleaming eyes and razor sharp teeth,
Pure evil in its gaze,
Gunned it down with a shot so fast,
I was slightly amazed.
They crawled out of their hidey holes,
And skittered in the light.
No match for my weapons and bombs,
They fell away in fright.
Destruction lay all around me,
Bodies riddled the floor.
Now came the part I dreaded most
Cleaning up all the gore.
The little lady was waiting,
Anxious, almost in tears.
Assured it had been successful,
She drew more slightly near.
The hero-worship in her eyes,
Didn’t faze me a bit.
I don’t need her adulation.
It’s just a job, that’s it!
“Rains must’ve brought the rats in, ma’am.
Shouldn’t happen again.
But if you ever have the need,
Call Pest Control. I’m Finn.”
