Sample Homework Exercises

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Each week members who want to, participate in writing a homework assignment. We have done several different kinds of exercises:

(1) "The Words Game:" Ten random words or phrases are chosen and each person has to write a short exercise which includes all of them. (See examples below.)

(2) Inspiring Photo: We also sometimes choose a photograph and write a short-short story with that as our inspiration.

Other things on our list for future lessons are: a serial story, where each person writes one paragraph, passes it on to the next person and so on (order of participation drawn by lot) and theme essays.

Below, are some examples to hopefully entertain and maybe even inspire you.

The Words Game

Example Exercise #1: breakfast, kindergarten, basket case, psycho, Istanbul, pancakes, charisma, revere, annoying, xylophone

Dan invented Psycho the Mutant Mouse

In the golden horn district of Istanbul, Istanbul's little suburb, there was an old abandoned cottage just a small little place but comfortable in many ways. There is a mouse that lives there but this is no ordinary mouse, his name is Psycho. Now Psycho enjoys his trips to the inner city and often visits the bazaar district where he could pick up many beautiful things, and I do mean many. For you see psycho is a mutant so called for how the humans of this earth have made him, through pollution. he is about 2 feet tall and dark gray and looks most ferocious but there was never such a gentle creature as psycho. His favorite food is pancakes and he would eat them every chance he could breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Many days Psycho would travel to and from his favorite store in the grand bazaar it only sold organic products and he loved buying everything organic especially the ingredients for his pancakes, people would stop and stare at psycho all the time at first this was annoying to him but over time he couldn't care less. This was all due to his best friend Bask short for basket case that was his nickname, Bask is the shopkeeper of The Wholesome Organic Food Emporium, Psycho loved Bask and Bask loved Psycho and they have been friends since kindergarten. Psycho was always at home with Bask, he revered him, he did have quite a bit of charisma. Bask played the xylophone and he was teaching Psycho, and Psycho ate up every second of it he actually learned quite a bit and was playing splendidly. They would sit for hours playing together in the little cottage. They ate pancakes and drank good strong organic Persian tea. They enjoyed each other so much and Psycho loved it this way because leading a life as a mutant was lonely and so many people are too quick to judge. Psycho has had a hard life but he had a friend and he never complained people just didn't understand him and most couldn't get past his appearance and he knew it but did not care. The moral of this story is that appearances can be deceiving and if you look you can find the beauty within just as Bask has found in Psycho.

Sue used the same words to create a spy story:

It had been years since Sarah Cummings had been contacted by her old boss, George Winfred from the State Department. Her years as a secret agent had been rewarding and her colleagues had revered her position within the agency. When she left the agency, however, she had made it quite clear, she had no intentions of ever returning. Sarah had fallen in love with John Cummings, and they had agreed she would retire early and become a full time wife and mother, a position she called of the heart. Now her world revolved around John and their child, Tim, who was now in kindergarten.

George suddenly appeared in the aisle of her neighborhood grocery store while she was buying frozen pancakes for breakfast. She turned from the freezer and he was there. Sarah shook her head violently with a no way loudly upon her lips. "Just listen to what I have to say Sarah. It's of national importance." He blocked her way, and she found this to be even further annoying. "Please." he pleaded. Their eyes met, and she reminded herself George had once been a close personal friend, but she also reminded herself he was a man with a great deal of charisma. "Alright," she said, "but make it quick. I have things to do."

"Do you remember the soviet spy, alias Jason Rimes?" Sarah's face fell and she nodded yes. George went on to explain Jason had become a double agent and the agency suspected he had been taken into custody by the Soviets, and at the time he held in his possession documents of great importance to the U. S. Government. Sarah interrupted. "And Jason would only trust me, because of our past love affair, right?

"Well," George winked. "Makes sense. Doesn't it?"

"Alright George. Just one time, and that's all. Ya hear what I'm saying?" she sternly replied.

When Sarah returned home, John was practicing his xylophone. He ranted and raved for a while referred to Sarah as being psycho for even considering the job, and told her he would be a basket case while she was gone. Eventually John understood and finally relented.

The following morning John drove Sarah to the airport so she could board the airplane boarding for Istanbul. Sarah held back her excitement for John's sake, and blew him kisses as she walked down the ramp on her way to the plane. Maybe, she thought, there is still more spy left in me than I thought.

As the plane took off the runaway and then circled the city, she smiled and quietly chuckled. A little vacation from normal life wasn't going to be too bad after all.

And here's what Ravenlea came up with:

As he prepared a special Sunday breakfast of her favorite pancakes, Paul Revere (no, not the original) could not believe that his sweet baby daughter was about to start her first day of kindergarten in only two days. It seemed impossible that eight years had passed since he had first met his wife Ayisha on a business trip to Istanbul. He had been instantly charmed not just by her considerable beauty, but by her amazing wit and intelligence. Looking at their child - sweet, beautiful Miranda - as she sat determinedly focused on making her toy xylophone produce the right notes, he saw in her all the charisma and magnificence of her mother and prayed fervently that she would not inherit as well, her mother's other tendencies. He still found it hard to understand that he had not seen it sooner, that those annoying little fits Ayisha had were symptoms of something deeper and profound. She had told him before they married that she was - how had she put it - a "basket case," but he had not taken her seriously, had not realized that beneath the charm she was truly mad, or as a friend had put it "a real psycho." Or maybe it had not been there and, as one of the doctors suggested the hormonal and emotional storm of pregnancy had uncorked some inner volcano. It was hard for him to think that his miraculous Miranda could have been the instrument of such tragedy. She was made in love and of love. If she had been the catalyst of her mother's final disintegration, she was also her redemption. She was and would be all that was the best in her mother. And maybe one day her mother would be well again and they could be the happy family they were meant to be. In the meantime he would be mother and father to his daughter and watch he move through life too fast for his taste. Kindergarten. She simply could not be that old yet. He shook his head. "Miranda," he called. "Breakfast is ready."

Example Exercise #2: Consolidate, amethyst, oil and vinegar, violin, passionate, ostrich, coyote, Burma , poor, plastic

Mary wrote:

Let me tell you a little story about Bob, Robert was his full name. I came to befriend Bob by going to the same church. After that Bob would end up at my place. Bob came to know that I loved music and as we came to know each other I came to find out that he loved the violin and that I had just been given a clarinet. Bob would invite me to his place which was right down the street, and I would watch him bring out a beautiful case with a very expensive violin which he would try to play, but Bob was a very poor player. Bob loved any kind of salad as long as it had oil and vinegar on that salad. Bob had traveled in other countries when he was in the Navy and Marines, he would tell me stories of how he went to Burma and saw up close ostriches and all kinds of different exotic birds of all kinds. Bob told me a story about when his mom and him made a nest for a couple of cardinals outside their kitchen window, he told me it was a bottom of a plastic milk jug. Bob always had a joke to tell, or a story. I remember when he told me about his trip to his brothers. Bob was especially passionate when it came to I at that time would just call them rocks, Bob would tell me about his brother's land and what he had found that he loved. Bob loved different gems, one was amethyst, another was onyx , which he had pieces of them, he also loved jade, there was petrified wood. Bob told me that his brother and his neighbors had a lot of coyotes always killing their hens and chicks. All in all nobody will never forget the man that would give a stranger their shirt, so they would be warm again, that was my Bob. The End

For Ravenlea this set of words inspired:

Looking at her shelves full of knick knacks and other trinkets collected over a life-time, Constance Hargrove thought she should really clear away and consolidate some of the collections and maybe get rid of a few things as well. She had always hated that plastic ostrich. If being eighty didn't give her a right to throw it away, then what would? But there were other things that made her smile and brought back sweet memories. The exquisite carved coyote had been the first gift Harold had ever given her, an eternity ago when they were first dating. They had spent a lovely day in the big city, visiting the Museum of Native American Arts and Crarts. She wasn't sure when he had bought it - perhaps when she had gone to the ladies room - but he had handed it to her with such shy pleasure at the end of their evening. "Thought you might like this," he had said in that shy, quiet way of his. She had fallen in love with him right then and there. Fifty years later on their second honeymoon in what was then called Burma, sitting over the most romantic dinner ever, he had handed her the beautiful amythyst heart with almost the same words. In some ways they had been like oil and vinegar. She had a passionate love for violin and classical music, he for rock and roll and country. He loved steak and potatoes, and she loved quiche and salad. She had grown up rich, he had been poor as a child, though he had outgrown that. But none of those things had mattered. They had rejoiced in their differences. Her life had been so blessed. When Harold died, she had thought she wouldn't be able to go on without him, but she had discovered, much to her relief, that Harold was with her even now, in her heart and an abundance of rich memories. She would be fine until her time came to join him in the next world.

While Dan wrote:

Mr. Finnegan pondered about the decision to consolidate his Plastics Company with a larger plastics corporation. As he was playing the violin rapidly with his bow, and the passionate way he fingered the strings. Memories flooded his mind of years ago when he started poor and penniless. The only treasured thing he owed was an amethyst pendant owned by his great grandfather and an ostrich feather quill used by his great grandmother. As he played the strings tapping his foot over the coyote skin rug in his office, his memories filled his mind he was rather deep in thought, a knock at the door told him his lunch was here just a spring mix salad with oil and vinegar dressing. He had decided to merge and thought that Burma would be a great place to retire. He signed the paperwork and booked his ticket and thought it was a great time to enjoy his life and spent the rest of his days relaxing by the pool playing his violin.

Inspiring Photo Exercise

The assignment here was to write a story inspired by the photo:

Suzanne wrote:

In the foothills of the Catskill Mountains deep in the valleys where generations have lived as farmers and lumberjacks, there lived a family named McCormick. Shawn and Rebecca McCormick dreamed of a farm of their own since the day they had wed, and they chose a parcel of land within walking distance of the crossroads and yet down by the river Delaware where they could draw water for their farm, and enjoy boating and swimming. Their days were spent with back breaking work, but also with a sense of accomplishment as the farm became a reality with a farm house roomy enough for many children, fields filled with corn and squash and a red barn alive with live stock. Their first child arrived in the first Spring and one child arriving for the five following years. The McCormick clan became healthy and strong, with a reputation for integrity and honor.

In the tenth year, a new neighbor to the south arrived. His name was Silas Grunch and from the beginning, Mr. Grunch was difficult to live by. Being up river, he damned the river making it difficult for the McCormick family to water their animals and their fields as well. When approached about the problems, Mr. Grunch only spit on the ground and sauntered away with a chuckle.

Rebecca assured Shawn, she would be able to take care of the situation, and Shawn knew Rebecca was referring to her family secret. In the old country, Rebecca's family were well known for their abilities as witches, good witches that is. With her husband's approval, she went out into the forest to gather the ingredients she would need for her most special potion. When she returned to her kitchen, she used her largest pot adding each ingredient one by one with a smile of love upon her face and a sweet melody upon her lips. She would stir then sing. Her voice lifting higher and higher with joy out to the fields and passing through the barn and down to the river. Her voice flowed upstream dancing like magic upon the water until it reached the farm of Mr. Grunch and to the fields of the farm where Mr. Grunch was clearing new land. The cranky man stood with his axe chopping up the stump of a tree he had fell earlier in the week. Rebecca's voice annoyed him at first and he began to sputter. He himself then fell to the ground and he went into a deep sleep.

The following day he awoke to find himself smiling and laughing. Mr. Grunch had never felt such elation. He quickly jumped to his feet and began to dance. Suddenly he stopped with shock for there within the trunk of the tree, he saw his very own face. His angry stare caused him to step back, and he knew he had been struck by some type of magic. He remembered the lovely voice of Rebecca and he ran to the McCormick farm with a new heart beating in his chest. When Mr. Grunch arrived at his neighbor's farm, the entire family was waiting for him on the front porch of their home to welcome him for dinner and into their fold. For many generations the Grunch and McCormick families lived side by side until this very day. Oh, by the way, the old stump still remains in the very field of the Grunch's family farm as a reminder to all of those who followed of the importance of the love of neighbor's.

Ravenlea contributed:

Oliver Wonderwood was the son of Olivia and Percival Wonderwood, a rare - probably unique - couple, since, while Olivia had been mortal and human, Percival was one of the Delaware branch of wood gnomes. Olivia and Percival met in August of 1620 when Olivia had been just a youngster. Gifted with second sight, she had always been able to see and speak with the magical peoples. She and Percival had been friends since early childhood, had grown up together, fallen in love, and against all odds and all the rules of both magic and human kind, had married and given birth to young Oliver. Neither a human nor an immortal, Oliver suffered the fate of many mixed bloods; he fit nowhere and suffered the agony and loneliness of being rejected and distrusted by both his gnomic - and particularly his human - counterparts. Olivia and Percival grieved deeply over their son's suffering and as the years passed and he was moving into his teens, they realized that drastic measures needed to be taken to redeem their child from the pain caused by their rebellious marriage. Olivia was getting on in years by the standards of the day and they both knew that, being mortal, her time on earth would pass soon enough... and so, on the eve of her 30th year and the 12th year of their life together, they set off to find the Ancient Witch of the Mountain and beg her to help their son. They walked for months enduring hot summer sun, rain, falling leaves and finally, just as the first snow was falling, they found her. Damocrecia, Wise Witch of the Delaware, gazed at them serenely. "I've been waiting for you," she said as they bowed their way towards her, proffering the huge basket of herbs and mushrooms that they had been gathering on their journey. "Wise Damocrecia," they whispered, "we hope you can help us." Looking through the basket, she nodded at them to sit. "You have done well with your basket. It is a good offering. I have seen your journey in my visions and the Spirits have whispered your story to my heart. Your love for each other and your son is clear and because of the purity of your hearts, I have been pondering your problem during the long months while you have pursued this difficult journey to find me.

Tears filled their eyes of the exhausted couple and they sank to their knees in gratitude. "Thank You so, kind Damocrecia. We put our hearts in your hands and the future of our innocent young son. We will trust in your wisdom and do whatever you ask of us.""I think I have come up with a solution to ease the struggle between Oliver's magical and non-magical halves. His path will not be an easy one and will require that he forgo any life he might have among humans. If he agrees to this, come with him to the banks of the great river two days before the Spring Equinox and I will cast a spell on that in him which is human, separating it from that in him which is Gnome. This will require great sacrifice from him for he will have to spend his "human" - daylight - time enchanted as a tree stump and his gnome life will be only as long as the the night lasts. At sunrise each day - wherever he may be, he will take on the enchanted state. Mortals will see only a tree stub. Though some may sense his being within it, they will write it off to fancy or imagination. I do this not to judge or belittle that which is human in him, dear Olivia, but to allow him to have the great pure life-span of his magical aspect and have the longest and fullest possible life. It is the best solution I can think of to help him."

And so it is that sometimes humans who have the eyes to see will spot an odd tree stump that seems to have a face. They will smile to themselves at their foolish fancy. And when he awakens from his daytime "sleep" Oliver Wonderwood will sometimes think he has dreamed of humans and will shake his head and go to join his gnome friends in the deep woods for another night of magical adventures.

For Dan the picture inspired:

In the clustered northern countryside, in the little town of Elkknot Cove just on the northern coast of the Atlantic, there was a woman named Winifred Vogel but her friends called her Winnie. Winnie was a kind person. She was famous as well; she had traveled all over the world and done many things. She was a world renowned archeologist. But her favorite subject had always been American Indian mythology. She had nice little house, a beautiful two bedroom cottage with much to look at from her travels.

One day while walking the countryside she slipped and fell down a steep hill and her foot was wedged in between a rock and a boulder just on the edge of the hibiscus forest. She was stuck and couldn't for the life of her get her foot out. But she was content. Winnie had a secret and no one knew it. She closed her eyes and called for help from within her heart. What happened next is hard to explain or even believe the boulder rolled itself away and her foot was freed. She smiled and said thank you in a low tone. And continued on walking she had always walked this countryside and spent much of her days digging around for artifacts. She believed there was much to learn from the past and had always stated that we all could learn from the past and our own backyard. Even as a child Winnie would dig up her own back yard much disapproving from her mother due to the flowerbed incident as she called it. It was back then that she learned this secret to nature. She was just ten years old when walking along in the hibiscus forest when she heard a voice a voice within herself well she didn't know what hit her the voice called her and with disbelief she called back. They spent much time talking about nature and the forest. Winnie didn't know who this was but she was glad to have a friend with many of the same interests as she. After weeks of talking she finally asked what this voice's name was. The voice paused and said,

"I am Gyhldeptis God of the forest."

Winnie was stunned by this and was momentarily abashed. "It's very nice to meet you." Winnie said, "Can I see you?"

"Not here," Ghyldeptis replied. "Go to the Yarrow River by the old stump and I will meet you there."

"I will see you there tomorrow replied Winnie."

The next day unable to contain her excitement she rushed down her breakfast and ran to school the day could not have passed so slowly. After school had finally finished she ran straight for Yarrow river and the old stump when she arrived she called out to Gyhldeptis but there was no reply. She looked at the stump and saw a face an ugly mischievous face.

Winnie asked, "Who are you?" and the stump replied, "I am Bokwus spirit of the forest and I am here to tell you Gyhldeptis will be here."

After about ten minutes Winnie became discouraged and when Gyhldeptis arrived Winnie was relieved. Once reveling herself she saw that Gyhldeptis had a look of the forest about her. Her hair looked like the strands of a weeping willow tree her face resembled the soft oak leaves and her presence gave a feeling of grandeur like standing before the tall cypress trees. Winnie was not afraid and was elated to meet Gyhldeptis. She remembered that day for many years and spent days conversing. All throughout her college years Winnie and Gyhldeptis always spoke. Winnie was lucky to be able to speak to the gods and spirits of the earth and she knew that when you understand nature you understand yourself. Even in her final days the picture of Bokwus Stayed in her mind and it always made her smile. When Winnie died Gyhldeptis came for her and made her a god of the forest and gave her the name Winnikah. Gyhldeptis and Winnikah, sisters of the forest, protectors of Nature for all eternity.

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