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Our Writing Hall of Fame

At Olveston we our proud of our confident and articulate pupils. They work hard to produce work they are proud of and this page is all about celebrating the truly fantastical writing produced by our children.

Click the drop downs below to experience the writing on offer here at Olveston.

Writing in the EYFS

 

Writing in Year 1

 

Writing in Year 2

 

Writing in Year 3

 

Writing in Year 4

 

Writing in Year 5

 

Writing in year 6

 

Writing based on ‘A Christmas Carol’ by Charles Dickens

Milly – Y6

Leaning over the body, the wrinkle-faced man inspected the coffin as his croaky, disgusted voice announced, “Yes, this man is quite dead.” Glancing back for a moment, he continued, “Dead as a doornail.” He stepped away from the body; his ex-colleague lay still, lifeless.

“The death certificate,” the undertaker produced a small piece of paper and passed it to Scrooge.

He took hold of it and signed the paper. Ebenezer Scrooge was an infamous man, with not a kind bone in his body. The cold-hearted, tight-fisted man had a heart of stone, like flint that had lost its spark.

Not wanting to wind up this unfriendly man, the undertaker’s palm unfurled, waiting for his payment. Scrooge looked at the open palm in disgust. Begrudgingly, he delved his hand into his small, leather bag. His bony fingers shook as he slowly placed one silver coin into the man’s outstretched hand. However, this was not enough payment. Raising an eyebrow, the undertaker leaned forward. Reluctantly, Scrooge took out another shilling; his hand shook madly as he dropped the second coin.

With one last look at the terrifying-faced Jacob Marley, who was lying as still as a nail in the large coffin, the undertaker left, clutching his payment. Ebenezer Scrooge grimaced as he glanced at the body, two shillings placed in the eyes of his ex-colleague! Finally, alone in his office, cloaked in darkness, he snatched the coins from his eyes and pocketed them without a second thought.

Writing based on ‘Cogheart’ by Peter Bunzl

Hayden – Y6

Rip! Another silver-glazed harpoon pierced the ship’s port. With an almighty jolt, the airship almost seemed to topple over. At that very moment, the crackle of straining steel entered the room and the toxin level shot up. “To the engines!” John bellowed and he and Malkin proceeded. “Oh, what to do, what to do?” John muttered to himself.

The boilers shuddering and pistons whirring, it was hard to hear or be heard in this room. Under a tangle of pipes and a jumble of wires lay a brass pod with one steamed-up window. Pew! Pew! Two more harpoons flew into the stern.

Iron wires gripped onto the side of the Dragonfly, the deploying end coming from Destruktor. “You go, Malkin.”

John’s companion gave a sigh of disapproval. “No, John. People over mechanicals, you know that.”

John placed a crumpled envelope in a leather pouch around Malkin’s neck. “It’s safer with you than with me. Have you got enough clicks to get to Brackenbridge?” Malkin nodded and with that, he was pushed into the pod; John released the hatch out to the sky-blue nothingness…

Tom – Y6

Stealthily they ran off into the night, with no stopping or going back. Dark as a Devil’s mouth the night was, as cold, bitter wind scurried through their ripped clothes. Exhausted, dazed and confused, the three of them used up every bit of energy to ease through the snow-covered path.

Snowflakes brushed against them while the milk-faced moon glowed in the distance. The frost-biting wind whipped in the air and hit their shivering bodies. With only the moon’s glow, the night was still and calm while they ran onwards.

Her heart racing, Lily shivered in the cold and peered down the well. The white, soft snow seemed to spill over the gloomy edge. Slow, scared and shivering, Lily climbed down, then to the side, closed her eyes and jumped off the ledge. “Now you!” she shouted to Robert.

“I-I-I can’t!” he stuttered, “I’m too scared!”

“I’ll help you,” Lily took his hand.

Finally, they reached the bottom and cautiously opened the gate; the three of them tumbled across the narrow road. Lily let out a sigh of relief – they’d escaped! But the question now was how long were they safe for?

Charlotte – Y6

THE DAILY COG

PROFESSOR HARTMAN MISSING – PRESUMED DEAD!

John Hartman – co-inventor of the modern mechanimal and infamous recluse – has gone missing during a journey on board his airship (Dragonfly).

The ship failed to reach Brackenbridge Air Station and is thought to have combusted in a mid-air explosion. Police are currently searching the crash site to retrieve as much information as possible.

Professor John Hartman co-owned the country’s largest mechanimal manufacturing business with his colleague, Professor Silverfish. Hartman vanished from public life seven years after his wife was killed in a steam wagon crash. He leaves one surviving relative: a daughter, Lily, age 13, whose whereabouts are unknown.

We have attempted to contact the family but sadly, no-one has responded.

Further updates will be reported in the next Daily Cog.

Sophie E – Y6

Robert tiptoed into the old workshop, placing the limp fox on the solid wood work bench. Stopping to check that the loud snores from upstairs could still be heard, he crept towards the bookcase which contained books that looked 100 years old. With his muddy fingers, he ran them across the bookshelf until he found the book he was looking for: All you need to know about Mechanimals. Robert pulled out the leather-bound book and flicked through the pages until he came to page 76 – Bullet injuries. He skipped the paragraphs – Shoulder injuries.

So, your mechanimal has been attacked, perhaps by a farmer or a hunter? Well worry no more; this book will tell you everything you need to know. Make sure you have access to the following equipment: Rust-be-gone, coghammer and cogger.

Robert turned to check that he had all of the resources that he needed, but maybe too quickly as he knocked over a spanner as he was turning; it fell to the floor. CLANG! Robert froze as the sound of snoring stopped. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” he muttered under his breath. Sounds came from upstairs and a thundering of footsteps started to come down the steps. What would he do? Hide? Run? Too late. Robert’s father came from around the corner, “AND WHAT IS THIS?” He stopped and spotted the fox on the work bench and to Robert’s surprise, he paused and said, “Ah. Come on, I’ll help.”

They re-opened the book and continued to read…

 

Writing based on ‘Street Child’ by Berlie Doherty

Eleanor – Y6

With feet colder than liquid nitrogen, Jim bounced on the cusp of the roaring road. The day was icy with a breeze that chilled through to the soul. Jim was poor and extremely desperate; the only clothes he wore were a jacket (2 sizes too small), short shorts and some holey shoes. All the streets nearby were filled with preposterous poverty and countless pickpocketers. The street was overflowing with dreadful dung and suffocating smog.

Jim had to be extremely careful. ‘Why?’ I hear you ask. Because he had a shilling, a very precious shilling. Jim’s family was part of the poverty ring; they lived in a slum like many others.

Suddenly, a rushing carriage passed Jim, drenching him with brown, icy slush. Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! As fast as he could, he shook the horrid stuff off and continued towards his destination where the smell of rich gravy filled his boiling tummy with more hunger.

By the doorway of the pie shop, desperate dogs and begging boys crouched there, waiting for special scrap. Pushing past, Jim burst into the shop to find Mrs Hodder laying new straw upon the shop floor…

Short-burst writing based on a derelict mill

Jed – Y6

Crouched under the orange mattress of leaves, the deserted mill (covered in snow) looked like it hadn’t turned in a thousand years. Crunched moss lay upon the cladded brickwork on the run-down out building.

Sophie M – Y6

The old and rusty watermill span around slowly beside the damp cobblestone building. Dripping with morning dew, the tree leant over a stream, which bubbled as green, summer leaves floated down to the end. A wooden bridge covered the stream and tall, thick trees shaded the bridge. In the distance, a view of large, green hills could be seen.