Eyebrows - a creative piece

It was late at night; the silence of the house was deafening. The only thing I could hear was everybody’s relaxed breathing and the dog’s occasional whimper in its sleep. My stomach growled. I turned on my bed trying to ignore it and go back to sleep and accidentally bumped into my sleeping wife. I didn’t apologise, she was fast asleep so why would she need an apology. My stomach growled again. This was so annoying; why would I get hungry in the middle of the night again. I grunted and got up. I opened and closed the door to our bedroom and could hear my son’s talking in his sleep. I went over to the kids’ room to check on him. Weird, the older one wasn’t there. My step-daughter? No, no, she was my daughter… Or was she really? After all, I had adopted her only to make her mother stay with me longer. That bitch refused the first time I proposed but I knew she wouldn’t after she got pregnant. Who would want a kid outside of marriage after all? Certainly not me.

Read more

The Haunted Rabbit

Alice’s stuffed rabbit was haunted.

            At first, she thought she was the one being haunted but after finding her favourite childhood toy in different places for the past two weeks, she knew the truth. It made her shudder every time she thought of it.

Monologue script

  (An author sits at a café with her editor, trying to resolve a problem in her story.)

   I need to kill somebody. I need to kill somebody whose death will destroy them. I need to hit them right in their weakest spot. So who would the best candidate be?

Writing Landscape exercise (Mistborn inspired)

 Ash didn’t fall from the sky.

   I stood on the top of a building in the middle of Elendel, my coat fluttering in the wind. My eyes were watering because of the chilliness of the outside air, while I was perching on the roof of the tall construction, trying to see as far ahead of me, as possible.

BOOK REVIEW: Aurora Rising

Review by Yuli Atta 

It's been around a week since I finished this book and the one thing that I can't get out of my mind is the feeling this book left in me.

I can't even put it properly into words but enjoyment-wise this is a 4-star read but writing-wise it's a 3-star read and I've rated it 4 because I rate based on my enjoyment most of the time. So, now I've decided that my rating should be 3.5 stars and just round it to 4.

Read more

The challenges of international students in Falmouth

 International students at Falmouth University talk about the struggles they've faced since coming to the UK.

Critical analysis of The Lost Girls by Apoorva Mandavilli

 ‘The Lost Girls’ by Apoorva Mandavilli

Critical Analysis by Yuli Atta

Market/ Audience

 “The Lost Girls” also known as “The Invisible Women With Autism” was first published in The Atlantic and is written for an online audience, judging from its short paragraphs which can fit on a smartphone’s screen. It is targeted at people interested in autism and more specifically, autism in girls. Its aim is to inform the reader about the condition and give awareness of the fact that autism in girls is different than autism in boys.

Booktube review: The Priory of the Orange Tree

Hi guys! Here's a book review I did on YouTube.

Amanda

Amanda was running for her life. Her legs were hurting, her lungs were burning, her gums were throbbing and she was gasping for breath. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was sit down and rest for a while. However, rest wasn’t an option. Something was chasing her.

So she ran.

And ran.

Creative Interview - COMPLETE FICTION

(This piece was for a class at university.)

Yasmin was around the age of 16 when she started her own Instagram, originally, she had a blog that she would post to as she explains:

Ernie's bad day

Ernie’s day was off to a bad start.

The excruciating pain in his right foot woke him up earlier than usual. He knew, without looking, that his ankle was swollen again and he could feel it pulsating. He sighed. Old age didn’t agree with him. He hated pain, he always has, even as a young boy. His late mother used to say that he was a big cry-

baby. He knew he was.

Ernie lay in bed, waiting for the pain to subside. He could see the outlines of the furniture in his room through the darkness. The sun wasn’t even up yet. He remembered being a younger version of himself, savouring every minute of sleep he could get. He recalled how at those past times he couldn’t seem to get enough sleep. And now? Now he would wake up in the middle of the night completely awake and fully rested. Sometimes, he would wake up due to the sharp pain in his limbs.