Evaluation and Reflections of the Creative Writing Course

During the course, I realised again that I am not good at writing poems, I have never been, anyway. And trying to do it in a second language, just results in a disaster. But it is good to be able to analyse the poems or to see them from different angles. This course gave me a little bit taste of it which I found challenging and enjoyable.

I mostly enjoyed the descriptive writings, the character building exercises and the dialog exercises during the lessons. Despite to my lacking in the English Grammar and the vocabulary, I think I can manage writing in these styles better than writing a poem. So, for this reason, I choosed to write my mini essay in Descriptive Writing.

Before I started to writing about it, I had to re-think of my first experience of this ‘Passage’. I thought of it again, as if I have seen it in a film. While I was describing the people or the views about this ‘Passage’, I thought of making a film of it and imagined using a camera that focusing into mess on the ground or to the medow. Using this technic allowed me to think of the details carefully, even encouraged to add some exaggeration. This technic is good for improvement of the imagination and definitely works.


I like observing people around me and the environment that I am in and this is something helps me with my writing. I also used the advantage of coming from a different culture. Being an outsider gives me the opportunity of looking at things from a different point of view.

Since I am involved in this course, I became a lot more careful observer. I focus on details by using the technics that we exercised on during the lessons, like creating a character or creating a story about the objects and the people. I can see that a further study in this subject would help a lot to improve my writing skills.

People who interested in generally life and in other people’s observations, would enjoy to read this article. I always enjoy reading this kind of articles and I just wanted to try to write one. I wanted to reflect the feeling of a rural historic town by describing the old part of it to the reader. But, there is another face of the town that is an unavoidable reality. I didn’t want to get into the reasons and the details of the social division; firstly, this is not a report about the social conditions in the town, secondly, because of the limited length of the essay. It should be a light reading, perharps at some point, helping to arise some questions in readers mind… Saying that, I tried not to be didactic which sometimes I can’t completely avoid.

The Passage Way

Since I moved to this town, I always wanted to have a good walk about it to get the familiarity of the names of the streets. But, I have never done it, apart from the old part of the town. I usually went down to the river when I needed a walk and fresh air.

Because of it is an old market town, there are lots of narrow streets and passages in it. I have been to the most of them and really liked the feeling of the past times in their cool and moist air. They take you to surprising places like an old derelict girl’s school or to another snake-like narrow streets or maybe to a hidden garden.

There is another narrow passage in the town which I haven’t been to for a long time. Because, it never occured to me as an interesting street. Even it is an uninviting, narrow but straight and dark street with the high brick walls on the both sides. Not an old interesting one, a new and boring looking one. A busy road runs between this narrow passage and my house. Whenever I am around my house, I see people coming out of this passage or dissappearing into it. The people who coming out of it or disappearing into it, fill me with the feeling of insecurity sometimes:

Here, there is that young boy with an aggressive look, badly shaved head, smoking heavily and looking at me with a pair of bloodshot eyes, disappearing into that passage with a multiple cans of Carlsberg box under his arm; or that ‘Nasty Twins’ who I see them in the town’s supermarket during their shoplifting ‘action’. At the age of nine or ten, straw blonde, skinny and in track suits with that angry look on their face, here they are... Coming out of the ‘passage’ and the moment I see them is the moment they spit onto the pavement with a habit of a young tough man.

And what about that lady who goes everywhere on her mobility aid in the town and smokes all the time. Her scooter is like a little locomotive, leaving a cloud of smoke behind it. I see her often in the supermarket again buying fags, scratch cards and a few cans of beers. As if just had an electric shock, her hair is always frizzy, her skin is dark with the affect of so many years of smoking, a mushroomlike nose that indication of the regular consume of alcohol... I can’t stop thinking that this lady is totally fine to walk on her feet but again, I have never seen her out of her mobility aid.

One day, I saw that middle aged, gossip queens sisters coming out of the ‘passage’... The sisters that used to come to the cafe where I used to work, to collect and spread the gossips of the town as a main purpose of their life.

‘The Passage people’ seemed like strange creatures that only come to the town for their shopping and then quickly go back into the passage again. I neither saw them in the town’s trendy cafes nor in the book shops and restaurants. As if they have been banned to go to places like these...

After seeing gossip queens sisters coming out of the passage, I started thinking about to have a walk into it. Obviously, more then the passage itself, the people aroused my curiosity. Althought it didn’t give me the encouragement to go into it, I found myself wondering about the other side of the passage.

One day, I decided to cross the passage and see what was there at the end of it. On a nice sunny day, I walked out of my house and crossed the road. At the entrance of the passage I stood and looked ahead. It was a narrow street with high brick walls on both side that even two persons wouldn’t walk pass eachother without the one giving away.. This first view gave me a little bit discouragement. It didn’t look safe either. As well as unsafe, it looked claustrophobic too. What if I met that aggressive boy with the badly shaved head, in the middle of it. What if he says something to me. If I scream in danger, could anybody hear me? With these questions in my mind, I stood there for a while. At some point my curiosity beat my ‘fears’, I pulled myself together and walked in.

After nearly ten meters walk, I came accros two railgates on the high walls that opened to a backyard of a firm. A private land that divided by this narrow access. I carried on walking and praying for not to meet anybody while I was there. I also had to watch out where I was stepping on because of the dog mess on the ground. Not just the dog mess, there also were empty cigarette packages, a babies pink dummy, used tissues, empty beer cans, sweet wrappings, fried potatoes, cooked pastas and empty take away boxes. The surface of the high brick walls were in contrast with the mess on the ground: Surprisingly empty and clean, no graffiti at all. Was it because of the passage users not interested in wasting their time to do some fancy writings onto the walls? Was it because of they were illiterate? Or was it because of the cameras on the high brick walls. I don’t know the answer. But, I know, there wasn’t any cameras on the walls.

Walking carefully and browsing around took a couple of minutes, then I carried on walking. After another a couple of minutes walk, here there was some plants on the sides of the passage, ahead of me, which made me think that it might be the end of it. But, no... Just the high brick walls disappeared and wooden fences on one side and a low stone wall on the other side took a place, instead. Leaving the brick walls behind and meeting to this open view was a relief.

Wooden fences were protecting an overgrown medow which looked so nice. I have to confess, I am not very keen on obsessively tidied gardens. I mean, perfectly mowed lawns, carefully leveled hedges, weed free flower beds... I don’t like treating a poppy or a daisy as a weed. So, this medow which seemed to have also also kind of wild flowers in was a very nice surprise for me. I stood next to the fences and cheerfully looked over it. With the warmth of the sun, there I felt some nice smell of the wild flowers arising from the medow and arriving to my nose in waves... I felt it. It was almost touchable... I watched the bees and a few butterflies flying around happly and completing the view. It was relaxing, especially after that claustrophobic part of the passage.

Opposite to the medow was a cemetery behind the low stone walls. It was a cemetery with mixture of old and new headstones in. Part of the cemetery with the new head stones in has been looked after well. Grass between the stones was mowed and fresh flowers were put on to the graves... There was an empty part of the cemetery with no headstones on yet, gave me a chilling feeling. It was expecting to be filled... In Some way, it was almost inviting...

After a few minutes of dark thoughts, I re-directed my eyes to the old part of the cemetery. Grass was longer in this part. Some head stones were either broken or lost their glamour by the errosion of the time. It seemed that, these graves had no living connections left behind to look after them anymore. This part of the cemetery looked sad, comparing to the lively and well maintained new part of it.

Studying the cemetery wasn’t something I was expecting in this nice sunny day. So, I carried on walking. After a minute of walk, here there were the houses with the small gardens at the front of them. They were all in same style. Later, I found out that these houses were old council estates that have been sold to the residents during the Thatcher era. Busy roads were running between them. Then, I recognised the road where my driving instructer used to take me to practice ‘reversing round corners’ during my driving lessons. It was only ten minutes away from my house, and at the time it always felt as if I was miles away from home.

I didn’t want walk further anymore... On the way back home by the ‘passage’ again, I stopped where the meadow is to let an old chap pass who was having difficulty to walk despite his walking stick. I turned my back to the cemetery and looked at the meadow while taking a deep breath to catch that smell of wild flowers again... Instead, I inhaled the smoke of the chap’s cigarette.

By the time I arrived home, I re-called one of the old school lessons about a current of warm water that flows in the ocean. This ‘Passage’ was the passage between wealthy side and the poor side of the town. It didn’t let them mix, it emphasised the separation.


Note: This is my mini essay which I had to write at the end of my introduction to creative writing course.

Back to...

It was a long silence. Not really a silence, just a silence on the blog. Life carried on with it's usual flow. Usual things like work, my brother's visit, then my visit to my family and friends in my original country, coming back here, working and...

And, going back to the studying. Yes, that is the best thing that I have done in so many years. I applied for a place at a university and now, I have got it. I am going to be a student again. This is something that I kept having dreams about since I left the university in my original country. Some mornings I got up with a feeling of sadness because of these dreams. Anyway, this is end of these dreams. I can't wait to start it.

Thanks to the course leader who gave me a good guidance during my application to the course, I have been attending to a short summer course during the July. It was called 'Introduction to Creative Writing'.

It was a really short and enjoyable course that when I felt I was just getting into it, it finished. But, hopefully the tutor will run another creative writing course during the term time which I am planning to attend as well as my main study.

Here is a writing exercise on next post that we have done during the creative writing course...

Approaching a City

Artist: Edward Hopper
Painting: Approaching a city, 1946

Description of the picture:
The painting contains a detailed view of an outskirt of the city from a railway. In the middle of the picture, there is a white wall which cuts through the composition then bends to the left. Behind from this white wall, there are some blocks of buildings arising. Apart from yellowish concrete blocks, particularly one narrow and tall building is eyecatching first for it’s colour which is reddish orange, secondly for it’s style and windows in detailed painting. Some curtins are half open, some othe curtins are closed on the windows. And then a grey and shorter stone building next to it with two chimneys on the dark tiled roof.

At the front of the painting, which is also front of the white wall there are railways with it’s brown-reddish colour of slipers, these railways give a deepening feeling to the picture. Railway lines comes from the bending end of the wall and wide opens at the front of the painting. There is also a dark shady object on the railways at the bending end of the wall which looks like a boat, but I can’t quite work it out that what it is. (Note: It is the tunnel on the railway of course, but I was looking at the picture so closely that couldn't work out the tunnel and just saw it as a shade. How silly...)

My feelings and the reaction to the picture:
I don’t like the first feeling of it. Not having a painting of any living creature in this picture, makes me feel that it is a painting of a deserted city after a dangerous disease spread amongs the human or a chemical bomb attack happened days ago.

If I was painting it, I would add some weeds growing by the side of the railway, a few people on the top of the grey buildings looking at the view, graffitis on the wall, a few birds in the distant sky and maybe a street dog or a rat that crossing the railway... So, it can be a little bit lively and warm view than it is on the painting. In this picture, the only thing I liked is orange-reddish building. It has got a character on the windowsills and on the where roof joins to the tof of the building. I also like the short grey stone building that reminds me of stone countryside houses in where I live at the moment. So, the familiarity is something that makes me like or dislike a picture.

I would quite like living in the reddish-orange building if it was in somewhere else, not next to a railway and a cold looking grey building blocks which might be offices to the high fliers.