Monday 16 April 2007

Get Creative

Ok people, here's your opportunity to share your writing with the rest of the world. Remember to say who you are.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Personal Study Plan Fraser Smart

"God, what did any of it matter, in the end? You lived; you died. You were as undistinguishable
from a distance as one of these blades of grass, and who was to say more important?"

Prentice says this on his way home, pulling into Queen street station in Glasgow, the January
before his father's tragic death.

This shows prentice being very philosophical, also demonstrating his maturing attitude.


"I lay in bed seething, thinking of all the smart things I shoud have said, untill I fell to a
troubled sleep. I woke early and left before anybody else was up, driving my hangover back
to Glasgow and shouting at caravans that got in my way, and that was the last meaningful,
full and frank exchange of views with my dad that I ever had."


This is Prentice, telling of his anger and regret of his last actual conversation he had with
his father. He dreadfully regrets not being able to tell his father that he is sorry and he loved
him. Such a tragic event does help Prentice to realise how juvenile he was being, and assists
him to continue his search for his Uncle Rory, on which he finds much more about other
awful deaths in his family. Link to theme of death and this helps Prentice to mature.


"The kitchen light was painfully bright when it went on. Mum brought me my dressing gown
and put a blanket over my shoulders and made me drink heavily sugared tea, and I
remembered thinking, Sugared tea; dad must have died again,"

Prentice, after the break in. His mother is still caring for him although he is much more
mature. He is being quite unfair on himself here not really showing feeling towards the death
of his father.

"I rang mum three or four times each day"

When Prentice travels back to Glasgow he still ensures his mother is alright. His maturity
giving him a sense of responsibility also.


"It was all I could do to stand there, moving my mouth when people sang, and looking down
at my feet when people prayed, and not shout out some profanity, some blasphemy, or ,
even worse, the truth. I actually gathered the breath in my lungs at one point, hardly able
to bear the pressure of fury inside me any longer.I tensed my belly for the shout: killer!
fucking MURDERER!"

At the funeral of Fergus Urvill, who Prentice had discovered, killed his wife, Prentice's aunt
Fiona, when Prentice was eleven.


Just incase I can't print this out. I need it for tomorrow.