Creative Writing with Google Docs - Story 5

The call of my memories

Douglas Soares

Fanny Blaquiere

Roseane Tiburcio

I was so anxious that I couldn't sleep during all night. So finally the sun came up in the east and I could get out of my bed. I chose to wear my best clothes and then I started to wait by the phone. My family was not at home and they didn't know anything about the reason of my inquietude. I felt nervous when I picked up the phone. I almost could not believe what I had just listened to. It was a moment that people wait all their lives, though there's no reaction to perform. I had figured out my prophecy. Supposed to be my second life in this world I had had a whole week of what people call deja vu's. Doctors weren't able to grasp the matter. However, my last dream showed me more than I was ready to face. Finally, I heard a woman's voice when I picked up the phone. At first impression, I didn't recognize her. She was babbling, and I couldn't understand clearly what she was saying. After some time I became aware of the situation. I couldn't believe it was her voice...the last time I had heard her, she was sitting at my side on the blue engine that my friend had lent to me to go to the cottage for the weekend. I remember the smell of her perfume, something sweet that her mum had offered her for her birthday. I was driving inside the forest during a wonderful summer day. Carrie seemed to be happy to go away with me, we were both 20, and we were the two figures of what we call " The free Youth". It is true, Carrie and I, were free...we had grown together in the same village, we had gone to the same elementary school and after to the same high school. Our parents let us experiment both the good and bad moments of our lifes. Carrie was the good friend, the one that I could trust, the one, the perfect one who could come with me on the way of our existences. She has always pretending that she was not in love with me, but I know that sometimes, we both enjoyed our time together.

Carrie, was always with me, and this weekend we had decided to leave the town to go sailing on the lake. Few years before, my parents had bought a little boat to sail. When we arrived we took our luggage off the car, and started to get ready. It was 3 p.m.in the afternoon and the sun shone quiet a lot. We got ready in a few moment and went away with the sailboat in the lake. A little bit later, we arrived on a little island. Everything was very quiet, we could just see the trees and the beach apparently made up of rocks. Nobody else was there. We decided to camp there, and started the barbecue. The night was already coming, and after a brief dinner, we decided to go to sleep. Carrie was lying down at my side, and quickly we felt asleep.

At 6:00 am, I woke up because of the cold of the night. I turned my head to my right side, and...couldn't see Carrie anymore. I went out of the camp and started to search her....I screamed all night long, bur Carrie never appeared. I knew at that moment that I wouldn't see her again, during a long moment, or just maybe, never again. How I wanted to keep seeing her. Maybe exchange letters with her! But time came cruel over my life and I kept walking with tough steps in the dead grass. My feeling of freedom was gone of my mind so I decided to leave to city I was living until then. As years passed I played the song as the choir did. Followed the flow as my last alternative.
Though I wasn't prepared to what happened, it wasn't completely out of the blue that I started to feel a bit different. My dreams were in a antic way changing. For a better or worse was my standing question. As soon as I could recognize Carrie's voice I got sick of my soul. How deep she had dug into my life. I had been taught to suffer by very practical terms. However the moment was of forgotten sores. The most important thing was that she was alive again. Not only in my memories but in me. A heavy cost is this one life charges us. I came to requite her unconditional, gifted love too late.
These memories came to my mind in seconds, and when I turned my attention to what she was saying I realized that the line was disconnected.

Creative Writing with Google Docs - Story 4

Was it enough?

Jurandir Oliveira

Robson Teotônio da Silva

Deyse Nunes da Silva

I felt nervous when I picked up the phone. It was late at night and I was already asleep, when the phone rang. It was so loud I thought it was under my pillow, the darkness of my bedroom didn't help me to realize where I had dropped it. Then I looked around me, but I couldn´t see anything, everything was so dark! And the phone continued ringing, I jumped from my bed and tried to turn the light on, I was so angry and nervous with that annoying sound that kept ringing and when I said 'hello', the call was disconnected. And I couldn´t sleep anymore, this fact made me so angry, how can someone call you and not say anything? I thought that was a joke.
I couldn´t believe anything like this, just on a day when I was so tired, this happened to me. I would be very glad if it stopped ringing then. But my phone rang again. Should I answer it? Or should I fake I was not at home. I had tried to answer it a few minutes ago, then if the caller was the same, he or she would know I was at home. So I felt nervous when I picked up the phone and I glanced at my watch on the book I had bought two days ago, it was almost midnight. I didn`t listen to anything exactly because the caller's voice was very distant and I had a lot of difficulties to understand who was talking to me. After some minutes I could perceive that it was my lover on the other side... . "My dear ..." I could hear, "... It's me ...". What could I do? Was my lover sick, was my lover drunk? A lot of confusing ideas appeared quickly in my mind.
Then the call was disconnected again and I couldn't listen to any word clearly, after that I lost my sleep completely, and I was anxious about what my lover had to say to me at that time. Thus, I decided to go to the kitchen, I remembered that my grandmother had told me that a cup of milk was good when we have insomnia and I really needed to drink something so that I could be more relaxed to know what I should do in a moment.

Creative Writing with Google Docs - Story 3

Letter from a desperate one

Angélica Fonsêca

Gabriela Santos

Ynêssa de Farias

Every day I wake up at 5 a.m. I am not adapted to this new life. I am thinking about escaping from this house. Although there are many people living this same situation I feel as if it was impossible to keep on. I cannot stand the same voices, the same faces, the same room. The brightness of the mold eyes disturbs me and I cannot breathe the identical chorus. I want to walk on the asphalt feeling the heat of the busy life. I want to claim against the cold coffee. What I really want is a challenge in my life; I want to change the way things are going. Day by day I think about what I can do to change my boring life. I feel good when I am dreaming but I know my dreams are really far from my reality. In spite of this is my only fun. I am still waiting for something, something to fulfill my emptiness. I know I am being weak transferring my happiness to something outside, but I admit I can not change my life for myself. Every night I lie down waiting for something special that can transform my life.
Last night I thought about this situation from another point of view. I was sitting on a chair in the veranda when I noticed how affected with that idea I am. My behavior is totally different from my original one and I face things absolutely differently now. All those thoughts of changing things are not being healthy to me and they are making my disgust concerning my life style get bigger and bigger.
My mind is being so stressed with the idea of being better that even simple things of my daily life are disturbing me. Last night something happened while I was thinking about all that. The telephone rang and it was before dawn. In any moment I imagined it could be bad news; on the contrary. I was so involved in my thoughts that I did not realize the phone was ringing in the middle of the night. I answered it with a calm “hello?” and then I noticed I felt nervous when I picked up the phone. On the other side of the line the voice recognized me and sounded glad to speak with me. I could not say a word but I could understand I was feeling like that because of how neglected my emotions are. The other person noticed my silence and, worried, asked me about what was happening. I tried to say I was fine but I was too afraid to do so. Then, I hang up the phone, got off the chair and felt angry at me and my terrible behavior.
I've been so attracted to changing everything in me that I am not living my life well. I am missing the opportunity of living the “now”, the opportunity of enjoying the pleasing aspects of my days, and I do not know how I can do it. However, I am excited about starting this change of thoughts and life. I will be more sympathetic and patient, but...
I do need help!

Creative Writing with Google Docs - Story 2

The previous evening

Sara Freitas

Denise Maia

Gustavo Matos

Ana Catarina Popowicz de Paula

What a nightmare that night was! She could not believe it. It was full of mysterious things. And now, she is trying to remember exactly what happened. As she tried to put the key in the ignition, the memories started to come back, but not sufficiently clear. She could only see blurs and started to ask herself if she was well enough to drive. Anny decided to walk home, hoping that the fresh air would make memories clearer. When she finally saw the blood stains in her high heels, the dreadful image came to her mind as clear as if it were happening at that very second. Her memories could answer the excruciating question, 'where was Kevin?'; Under those red tree leaves on the backyard, the tormenting image she had in her mind was so distant. Facing that frightful attainment she ran for help. As she was running, Anny started crying desperately and shouting at everyone in the street: "I'm not guilty!". Suddenly she stopped and closed her eyes for a while. In that moment, she decided to go back and give her an opportunity to change her sense of guilt. The image of the place where she last saw Kevin suddenly came to her mind. Anny ran to the store where he works, however when she got there all she could see was police cars and ambulances. She started to cry even more, her heart was beating faster. She knew she would have to go inside to make things clear. When she was about to get in, she felt a hand on her shoulder, though. It was him, Kevin, acting as if nothing had happened in the previous evening. He was cold, shocked and stood canny, serious, regardless. "What a great actor he's playing!", said Anny. He took some seconds until his first words were said to her. He said she should not cry. Her tears could give her away. In the midst of a tragic event which they had provoked, he wisely knew how to be around, getting to know everything and not to be exposed. Was he a psychopath or just a scared 17-year-old boy? Anny could barely walk without having the feeling of being unmasked or the sensation of someone suspecting her. She was sort of in a inner fight with herself. She meant to put it out of her chest. But Kevin was there to comfort and give her strength to handle such mental massacre. Whenever he felt her trembling and willing to express something, he directed her the same convincing and sedative phrases, "Don't cry, dear! Tears may give you away." As they talked, Kevin was leading Anny to a further and calmer place where the red leaves would soon get even reder, silence would prevail and their secret would remain untold.

Creative Writing with Google Docs - Story 1

A Difficult Choice

Herbert Silva
Sofia Guz
Abrão Neto

I was taking a rest at home when suddenly the telephone rang. It rang in a different way, somehow I knew. Bad news? Good news? Who is phoning me, I thought. I felt nervous when I picked up the phone.
This story started some months ago when I met three different girls at the same night in a party. From this time on I realized that my life will be changed forever. One of them was a lady, elegant, well dressed and rich woman but she was not a beautiful woman, actually, she was a middle aged woman. There is not problem for me but what the others would think about me, probably that I am only interested in her money, what could be true. The other girl was pretty. She had a dark long hair, green eyes and a large smile, the most beautiful brunette that I have ever seen. She was not inside the club because it was not allowed to enter without an invitation. Although she knew some people there, she couldn't take part in the party because she was poor, and the hostess, that elegant middle aged woman, definitely didn't like people from a lower social class. The last one was a married woman who was in a process of divorce but her husband did not want to accept it. I have to say she was the most interesting of them. Maybe because she was married, she "belongs" to other, the challenger...I don't know. I had to take a risk. I got involved with the three women simultaneously. It was the most dangerous adventure that I've ever lived. I should have stopped that kidding when I had time to do but things became more and more difficult throughout those months. It was a hard choice.
To make this story easy to understand I am going to describe the intentions of the three women. Mrs. Helen was 55 when I met her. She was known as the dark widow because her last two husbands had passed away in an unknown circumstance. She usually chose her futures lovers in these parties where she invited lots of people to have fun. Then in the end of the party, she picked someone up to make an "indecent" proposal. That day she chose a young guy who kept still in front of her. I couldn't imagine that situation. The guy was me. For some minutes I wondered what to do. The last one that had refused her invitation disappeared mysteriously. I was scared.
In the beginning of that night I had met Michelle, that brunette I mentioned before. She was in front of the club where the party would be. Her sweet voice hypnotized me at the same time she talked to me. It was love at the first sight. Unfortunately, there was a problem. I was looking for someone who had money, only for my own ends. I was a mercenary man who didn't deserve her. That night was longer than I had imagined.
Then, in the end of the night, some minutes after I had been chosen by Mrs. Helen, more precisely when I slipped out of her hands, I met Julia who was arguing seriously with her husband. She asked me for help and I couldn't refuse her request. The problem was that the violent man accused me of being her lover and gave me a black eye. After punching him too, I escaped with Julia to my home. On that night we really became lovers...What a night!! Julia was the woman of my life. Soft, sensual, touchy, intelligent...Why should she be married and financially embarrassed?
Before that night, I was sure about my targets but now...Anyway, at dawn she left me and I was lost. But not for a long time. At night I met Michelle and forgot all my troubles hypnotized with her sweet voice and magic green eyes. A few days after I realized my situation: Mrs. Helen chose me (and that was what I wanted, although all my fears), Julia chose me (that was what I wanted too) and Michelle, oh!, sweet Michelle, the only one that didn't flirt me. In fact, she ignored me. Next week Mrs. Helen called me and said I should be at her house on Saturday night. Just Saturday! I have already invited Julia to a date (at my house, of course). I didn't know what to do. How could I deal with that mess? Suddenly, I had an insight: what if I just disappear in a puff of smoke? Nobody finding me, I would be safe. I couldn't think in nothing else as coward as I am, so I went to a hotel and spend the next three days hidden from the world. After that I returned home. Now we are at the beginning of my misfortune. I was taking a rest at home when suddenly the telephone rang. I wondered: Who is there? Nobody knows I am here! There was no voice, I only could hear a huge laugh. I forgot it immediately and opened my newspaper. Then, something surprised me. I was really in shock. The headline: DOUBLE HOMICIDE. Having read the entire news I realized that who were killed was nobody less than Mrs. Helen and Julia!! And I was the main suspect!! I thought that could have been the betrayed Julia's husband but Mrs. Helen! he hadn't anything against her. Actually, he didn't know her.
Suddenly, Michelle arrived at my house and laughed at me. I immediately recognized that one. Now the penny drops!! Michelle...my brunette...That's why she was so strange and avoiding me. She loved me in secret. However, she was jealous and crazy!!! She had arrived to kill me, and almost achieved her objective. She shot me but to my luck she only hit my leg. So, I had to choose between my life and her life. I think you already know which was my choice. On the contrary, I wouldn't be here to tell you this story.

Creative Writing with Google Docs

It all started last June at the ABRAPUI convention in São Paulo, when I attended a very interesting workshop on how to use google docs in English writing classes. I then decided to experiment google docs with my Reading and Writing students at UFRN this semester, and I've been really impressed with the outcomes !

With google docs, the teacher can have several students writing a story together from different computers at the same time, usually extra-class. When it comes to writing stories with google docs, students can interact and negotiate on line what the most appropriate lexico-grammatical choices are, for instance. Another advantage of co-writing stories is that if you suddently run out of ideas or get stuck with your story (which students commonly report to happen) , there are other people who may make up for that and continue the story just as beautifully.

Here are some stories my students co-wrote using google docs, departing from a common prompt (a sentence to be fit at some point in the story). Hope you enjoy reading them !

Prof. Janaina Weissheimer

The Importance of Being Earnest - Formas Dramáticas

Mr. Amadelane, Mr. James Algernon and Mr. Icaro Worthing in the first scene of Act I - The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde

Our thanks to Prof. Janaína for her inspiring and lively classes

Warm Welcome

Hello, my dear classmates. Here's our new place for sharing knowledge, material and whatever you consider relevant to our learning. Do please write on this blog, we really need your help to turn this simple tool into a well of crucial information to those who wish to embark upon a linguistic and literary quest.
Best Regards,
James