Childhood memory: sleep paralysis

i used to exhaust myself
but i could never sleep
my head would hit the pillow
my eyes would droop shut
but i would lie awake for hours
tossing and turning
clutching stuffed toy animals
listening to the train rattling outside

then my body would shut down
but my mind?
wide awake
i could see my bedroom
as if i was conscious
could see my body lying,
twitching

i remember trying to open my mouth
trying to scream for my mother
'help me help me' i would internally come out
but my mouth wouldn't open
and you couldn't hear a sound

i'd force myself to cough
try to throw around my limbs
i'd try to pinch myself
pull my hair
but my body was as heavy as a brick
unresponsive

i'd just have to lie there
helpless and immobile
until my mind also surrendered
and everything went black

Childhood memory: Dogs

When I tell people I used to have an extreme phobia of dogs, people rarely believe me. Today, I'm the kind of person who will yell 'Dog!' whenever I see a dog being walked and then resume my original conversation. I'm the kind of person who has a favourite dog that I see on my walk to college, who I have named and given a personality to. I've also been known to cry at pictures of dogs: I'm definitely not the person you would imagine having such an extreme phobia of dogs that I couldn't even walk on the same side of the road as one.


I know that my phobia stemmed from two unfortunate incidents when I was younger. When I was three years old, my parents dropped me around to my babysitter's house, and I met her jumpy but friendly Jack Russell, Fidget. And when I say I 'met' him, I mean he jumped and yapped all over me, thinking I was some kind of chew toy. For a shy three year old, this was terrifying, and for a few years after I was always slightly wary of jumpy dogs.


Then I met my uncle's dog.


Looking back, I don't blame the dog for what happened. Like most dog-related incidents, I think it's the owner's fault, and this is a viewpoint I stand by to this day. I was about seven I think, and I was slowly beginning to trust dogs again. I was getting out of the car to greet my Uncle when I was pounced on faster than a lightning bolt. All I saw was this flurry of white and brown coming at me like a bullet and then hurtling into me at full force. My uncle and mother thought the dog was just playing around, but then he bit into my ankle and wouldn't let go. I screamed and that's the moment my uncle picked me up and made everything ten times worse. He started whirling me around in the air, my limbs flailing with an angry dog's teeth still well and truly sunken into my leg.


I don't quite know what happened next, but that's what triggered an all-consuming phobia of dogs that lasted until I was about eleven. I remember crossing roads to avoid them, my grandmother telling me to 'whistle a happy tune' whenever I saw one to calm down my racing heart. I remember asking friends if they had any dogs before I went around their house, so they could lock them away in a room before I got there and I wouldn't have to see them. I remember one of my friends not taking me seriously and that's how a German Shepherd ended up chasing me around the house, growling and snarling, even though she had reassured me that he was gentle and 'wouldn't hurt a fly'.


I still can't quite put my finger on what eventually got me over my fear of dogs. I remember my aunt getting a Dalmatian at one point, who I did love dearly. He ate everything, including my brother's chocolate lollipop, and was around for many years: I even worked up the courage to take him for a walk. Maybe it was my dad's refusal to allow his daughter to fear something he loved so intently, maybe I just haven't had any more negative experiences (touch wood) with dogs so in time I have gotten over it.  Just a few days ago I was greeted by a gate by a giant German Shepherd and two jumpy, excitable Pitbull Terriers. I'm happy to say that fear did not enter my heart once.

Childhood memory: Toys

I really miss toys
the ones that you need scissors to cut open to get to
that clear, thick plastic that comes apart like an Easter egg
I miss Tamagotchis
playing games underneath the table
so the teacher couldn't see
I miss making my father walk to the shops
at 9 'o' clock at night
to buy me the little circular batteries
that made my little pet spring to life.

I miss that simple joy of childhood
£2 for a packet of plastic sculptures
that made you popular the next day
I miss bring your toy to school day
showing off my Pixel Chix car to all my friends
and playing Gogo Crazy Bones
trading, swapping, bargaining
We were the real entrepreneurs.

I miss my Nintendo DS
and Animal Crossing, Nintendogs
I miss the summer bliss of outstretched legs
and looking for the stylus that always went
missing

I miss having a Christmas tree
that overflowed with presents
because back then what I wanted came
in a cardboard box and with an Argos reservation

Now I buy overpriced make-up
and my gifts are in envelopes
the Christmas tree is empty
I've sold all my toys
even my brother's outgrown them now.

Childhood memory: Playtime

I remember the soft play areas
when I was a little kid.
Smelling vaguely like sweat and nappies,
strong tea wafting from the parents on the sidelines,
empty Twix wrappers littered on the floor


I would climb through holes,
graze my knees on that twisted rope
and cry when my friends tried to make me go down the Death Slide.
Carpet burn, rubbed red raw, on my hands and thighs,
I'd come out bruised but happy.


I found myself allergic to the fuzzy plastic on toy cars
that made your hair stand on end,
I was coated head to toe in Calamine lotion,
my mum painted whiskers on me so that I looked like a rabbit
and not a child ghost.


I played with imaginary friends
like every child does.
Mine was Harry Potter, although I hadn't read the books
or even watched the films
but everyone liked Harry Potter.
Maybe if I said I was friends with him
People would like me too?

Listicle: How to aim for top marks in the Creative Writing exam

1. Stick to the brief. It's great to add detail and show your creative side, but the brief tells you what you need to include, and if you stray too much from this it can get confusing and wishy-washy.
2. You writing should have a clear and engaging opening and have a sense of purpose: it's a good idea to plan your writing so you have a set path of what you want to include and where you want to finish.
3. Signposting (showing your reader where your writing is heading) can be achieved by linking paragraphs together and using repetition or emphasising particular ideas. Some examples of signposting phrases are 'the aim of this is to…', 'the purpose of this is to…' and 'this essay argues that…'
4. Remember that you only have 300 words so it is better to have a tight and clear focus rather than try to cover a number of different topics and ideas.
5. The ending can be more effective than you think. To get top marks, refer back to the very first idea in the piece to show your understanding of structure and cohesion.
6. It's been proven over the last year that students who vary sentence types and punctuation are more likely to get good grades, so be sure to do this in the exam.
7. Pretentiousness is not everything. Of course, flaunt your extensive vocabulary if you have one, but be careful that you don't fall into the trap of overwriting and misusing words.
8. Cliché is not always phrases like 'her eyes shone like the stars'. Even phrases like 'all is not lost' and 'at the end of the day' are phrases that examiners are sick of reading over and over again. Try to be more original.
9. Sometimes in the midst of trying to include as many fancy terms as possible, students make mistakes when it comes to simple skills like using adverbs and adjectives. Make sure your basic English skills are solid before you try and venture into more complicated terms and skills.
10. Drafting work is key, but check that you have made it clear to the examiner that you don't want it to be marked. Cross out any work you don't want to be considered by the examiner so there is no confusion.
11. Be kind to the examiner! Don't have them scrabbling for spare paper to write notes on- leave them space between each response so that they can write comments and place their marks.

Let's move to...Yate

Where is it?

If you drive out from the centre of Bristol for about half an hour, wind around a couple of country roads and emerge in front of a giant, slightly out-of-place Tesco building, you have stumbled across Yate.

What is it like?

A couple of years ago, the most interesting shops were The Works and a few charity shops, but recently Yate has 'upped its game'. I'm not entirely sure why we're suddenly getting so many popular, mainstream shops- I couldn't believe it when I found out we were getting a Starbucks

Is it expensive to live there?

The houses are decently priced: you can find a good selection from £250,000 to £800,000 so it's fair to say you can find something within your budget. A pleasant semi/ detached house is usually priced somewhere around the £300,000 mark, and more and more new houses are being built either in the area or its neighbouring town of Chipping Sodbury. The cost to live there is entirely dependent on your lifestyle- you could easily spend a lot of money if you're the kind of person who has a gym membership, goes food shopping three times a week and goes out for coffee with friends weekly.

How about the education options?

In all honesty, the schools aren't brilliant: most of them are rated to be either 'Good' or 'In need of improvement'. Because of this, many children travel from Yate to Bath/central Bristol in order to get an Ofsted 'outstanding' secondary school education, which isn't cheap, but there are plenty of primary schools and the secondary schools in Yate working their way up the league tables every year.

What about things to do?

For the kids and dog walkers, there's a good amount of green space, notably Kingsgate Park. A new Cineworld is opening in the recently built Riverside retail park and the youth café 'The Armadillo' was built a few years ago. The shopping centre is hit and miss. The most popular shops are New Look, Next, Dorothy Perkins, CEX, Game, The Body Shop and Boots, but there's not a whole lot of variety in anything that isn't clothes or food. There seems to be two coffee shops per normal shops, and at least four Costa cafes specifically. As well as this, there's nowhere to buy books or CDs, unless you count Tesco, which I do not.

All in all, if you're a student who loves the hustle and bustle of a vibrant town, or a classy businessperson who needs quick and easy access to the biggest cities, perhaps look elsewhere, but Yate is a great town, particularly for young families and those in retirement.

Let's move to...Gloucester

How is the article structured?
The article is structured as a question and answer piece, as if the journalist is interviewing himself about Gloucester. There is a headline and an enticing, unusual subtitle which mentions Harry Potter, appealing to a younger audience, perhaps those who are considering going to Gloucester University. the language used is rather informal, for example 'What's going for it?' and 'Hang out at...'. This makes it more enjoyable to read and is more accessible for different audiences.


It is also broken down into one large paragraph and several smaller paragraphs or lines. The journalist uses rhetorical questions like 'When did it all turn sour?' and 'How can you go wrong?' as well as direct address to build up a friendly reputation with the reader. This makes the journalist sound more honest and less like he is neither discouraging you from going to Gloucester or encouraging you to go there. The journalist also uses imagery to build up a picture for the reader, and exclaims 'Just look at that cathedral!' to almost take the reader on a walking tour of Gloucester and show them around.


 At the end of the article, the journalist heads 'to the streets' to find out what visitors/locals think of Gloucester, and this makes the piece sound less biased and opinionated. He uses a variety of opinions, some saying that Gloucester is a bit of a 'shambles' and others saying 'a great base for Forest of Dean and Cotswolds'. By mentioning house prices and the practicalities of living in Gloucester, the author provides actual factual information about Gloucester, other than his own opinions.

Ingredients for a mainstream YA novel

One white, straight protagonist. A corrupt government or exciting adventure. One Asian guy, one black guy and one gay guy in a friendship circle, just so the author can pretend that their writing is modern and 'moving with the times'. Of course, there must be a few girls in the novel- the gorgeous one and the clever one. And why not throw in a meaningless love triangle for the hell of it? Now you have a chart-topping, award winning novel which is praised for its 'coming of age' themes and diversity.

But here's the issue. Tokenism and playing to stereotypes are not diversity. Just because you are considerate enough to insert one black guy into a friend group does not make your story 'racially diverse'. One gay best friend who loves to shop strewn in among the teenage pregnancies does not make you an LGBT+ hero. And just because your female protagonist can throw a few well-aimed punches does not mean you are at the forefront of equality in fiction. Although the more we bury the damsel in distress archetype the better, it's important to realise that strong female characters don't have to be defensive and emotionally detached in order to be strong.

As my years of avid reading have passed me by, I have devoured YA novels as I struggled to claw my way through adolescence, trying to find something relatable and something that made me feel slightly less alone. But it seems that the way to be relatable to teenagers these days is through the representation of mental illness, and today it feels more like romanticisation than representation. I once read the line from the Ned Vizzini novel it’s Kind Of a Funny Story 'I quite like that you're in a psychiatric ward. It makes you more interesting'. A suicide attempt is not a character quirk and mental illness is not a fascinating personality flaw. It ruins lives and it shouldn't be treated like a fashionable accessory, flaunting complexity and intrigue.

When it comes down to LGBT+ characters, sexual orientation and gender identity is seen as a status. It is a solitary function, a flashing billboard, a tool of stereotypes and a journey of self-hatred and deep, internal struggle. I want to see a story where the plot does not revolve around self-discovery and a battle for acceptance: representation, not regression.

Here's the bottom line. We need more diversity in Young Adult Literature. No more tokenism, no more stereotypes, no more two-dimensional men and women. Why not push the boat out and have someone who is neither male or female? More male characters that don't just whinge about not having a girlfriend and more female characters who do actually moan about not having a girlfriend. Let's stop putting people in boxes and having them be defined by their ethnicity or their mental illness. Labels are to be defined by us, not the other way around.

World's Worst Human Award

Congratulations.

You’ve won the hearts of the ones you’ll throw away

Keep them running back to you so you won’t have to stay.

Plan it all, every second, the time when you will choose

When you decide who you’ll keep and, oh, who you shall lose.

How fun, little girl- you don’t play with toys now-

You play with the hearts that worship the way you sound.

Oh look, oh look, you know you’re in the wrong,

Holding one up by a leash so you can sing another’s song.

What a hypocrite, a fake, so you can say ‘oh well’

This girl’s getting desperate, can you tell?

Because when you’re with one, they’re all you can see.

Gorgeous dark hair and “you’ve softened me”

But when you see the other, they are simply cast aside.

You're falling for one because you can’t stop the lies.

Deep down you know the truth- you won’t miss out again

On the promise of validation, a relationship that’s accepted,

“Come meet my parents” and a changed Facebook status

Oh, little girl, you’re in such a twist.

Not to mention that this is all of this for that one gentle kiss.

The deadline’s approaching: who will you choose?

The one who you lust for or the one you can’t stand to lose?

Dear my seven year old self

Dear my seven year old self,

I am the age you dream of, the age you fantasize being. I am the age of partying, drinking and boys. Yeah, prepare to be disappointed.

We have lived a life of exams, school halls and slushies by the side of bowling alleys. Of blushing cheeks, truth or dare and too many hours spent dressing up virtual dolls. Now we have inconsistant  plans, uncertain dreams and a self esteem like a rollercoaster. But we're okay with this. 

I want you to know that you are the protagonist in your own story. Not your so-called best friend who treats you like a lost puppy. Not your grades that threaten to ruin your life if you take the eye off the ball for just one second. Not that guy with the bright eyes who calls you pretty every once in a while. You. I want you to believe in and look after yourself, and that means not studying so hard for your GCSEs that you end up falling apart amongst a graveyard of ripped up posters. Love your friends like your own family, but as a quote I once read said: 'don't light yourself on fire just to keep others warm'. I promise you that they will glow whilst you are nothing but ash.

Be kind to your parents: they work harder than you realise. Learn more from your brother- his quirks and passion should be something you idolise, not something you secretly detest him for. Watch more movies that you've never heard of and read more books that aren't just romanticised accounts of dramatic teenage girls.

But most of all I want you to make the most of your tender, innocent youth. Make the most of tamogotchi's and heelies and playing outside in the rain. Make the most of spending days by the beach making sandcastles and holding hands with your grandparents. Make the most of the homework that is a sheet of addition and the golden stickers on the bottom of your English books that make you think that you're clever. Don't ever, ever try to be me because I would give anything to be you again.