I used to love writing stories as a kid and I was pretty good at it. I can’t remember the last time I wrote a story. Do you do them at GCSE? I don’t know. I didn’t do English A Level and I certainly haven’t written a story since school. I did a journalism degree, followed by a career as a press officer. Add the blogging and I’ve done a lot of writing over the years, but it’s all been factual.
I don’t know how to write a story any more – a start, a middle and an end, build up the tension, maybe a twist, lots of excitement along the way… My brain just doesn’t work like that any more.
But then my son wrote this for homework a couple of months ago and I was blown away. I had to share it with you. He’s 9 and in year 4. The only brief they had was that it needed to be set in Tudor times.
This is just as he wrote it. I haven’t corrected any spellings, grammar or typos.
The Queen was near to death.
The thunder made houses shudder, the rain made mudslides on the streets. Furthermore, the lightning tore through the sky raging towards the ground. People wouldn’t come outside all except one man. The curer. He knew he had business coming. Of all the sellers in town he was recommended by everyone. He just stood outside all day waiting for customers. At weekends he sat in his house trying to come up with new cures.
The next day, the man couldn’t believe his luck. The king’s courtiers came to ask him for a cure to Jane Seymour’s illness. ‘The Queen has just given birth. She is terribly ill. She needs a cure’ explained one of the courtiers, shaking hishead at the floor. ‘I’m sure I’ve got something somewhere.’ replied the curer, sorting through viles and bottles of medicine. He sorted through the cornucopia of bottles until, ‘Aha!’ he cried, holding the liquid aloft. The courtiers were willing to pay 5 guineas for the special substance.
Four days passed. The Queen was still unwell. And worse. Six heavily armed soldiers turned up at his small shack. ‘You are under arrest on suspicion of trying to kill the Queen.’ exclaimed one of the guards, tightening his arms behind his back. Later that day in court the man was on trial. ‘So you are saying it was the best you could do for her.’ boomed the judge, demanding a reply. ‘N-no I may be able to do b-better.’ the curer stammered, quivering from head to toe. ‘Ok I’ll give you 12 hours to make a new medicine. Otherwise…’ he trailed off, drawing a finger across his throat. BANG! The judge had hit his hammer on the podium. ‘I’ll see you in 14 hours.’ finished the judge, standing up to leave.
This is part 1. I will bring you part 2 next week. I’m linking with Wednesday Words at Crazy with twins for the first time. Pop over and read some other words which have inspired people. Also linking with Prose for Thought at VeViVos where people share their own poetry and prose. Go and have a read!