Department of English and Modern Languages

  • English
  • Undergraduate Creative Writing Anthology

    Welcome to the Oxford Brookes Undergraduate Creative Writing Anthology 2013. This is an online showcase for work produced by students who took the Specialist Option in Creative Writing in the final year of the English degree.

    Here you’ll find fiction and poetry by a community of writers who have come together over a semester to help each other experiment with language, discover subject matter, explore the purposes of reading and writing, and find new ways of opening their literary studies to the world. In the process they have created texts ranging from beast fable to science fiction, from fairy tale to gritty realism, from tragic verse to comic prose: in this anthology, they share what they have achieved.

    Contents

    A Dog’s Best Friend by Natalie Mayhew

    Bark Bark! Hey you up there. Yes you! Hi there. My name is Buckley and I’m two years old, well twenty one in dog years, and a happy-go-lucky Beagle. Well, up until I lost my best friend. Ball-ball. If you see ball-ball please return him to me. It is firm and rubbery and very bouncy and makes squeaky noises when chewed. The more slobbery and smellier it is the better! But nonetheless I am happy, wagging my tail with doggy strides as life goes on.

    The Walls Have Ears by Clara Gibson

    A clock ticks softly high up on the wall, as the soothing music of Ella Fitzgerald plays out across the room. A gentle dripping of a tap can be heard splashing onto one of the drip trays behind the polished yet over worn bar. The soft chuckling of one of the staff can easily be heard as she flicks noisily through The Independent at the rear end of the bar. Outside, a father on his phone speaks loudly to his wife on the other side of the world, a baby stirs as her pram brushes against the curb of the cobbled pavement, a flurry of pigeons flap their wings and fly manically as a group of children run towards them, screaming with laughter. Funny the things one can hear when you really listen.

    Planet by Rachel S. Ross

    We are not dying, but Planet now openly seeks to destroy us. Our immortality grants each of us utter responsibility for the creation. Our creation of Earth now controls our fate. We only wanted to create, only wishing to nurture. Our imitations destroy us.

    The Price of Innocence by Sophie Farrant

    It’s all black.

    The wool covers my eyes; I cannot find the block, my hands wave before me. A pair of hands takes hold of my arms and guides me forward, placing my hands on the wooden block. I hear voices murmur around me but I cannot tell whom.

    Thorn Among Roses by Jacob Rafferty

    I guess it started the night that Rose left. She thought we had had ‘problems for more than a year now’. I thought that was what people said in films and American sitcoms, an excuse as weak as ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ She said that as well, bitch. I fell into a hole after she left, it was hard to get out of it. Nothing too serious, just a little too much of this and that, a little too often. This is the last thing she said to me, just to give you some idea of what happened:

    All My Not-Forgetting by Anna Sileoni

    Tomorrow. I’m leaving tomorrow. This town, these faces, every single one of these people is going to haunt my memories like a restless ghost. The oh-so-scary Real World, this bogeyman-realm which has haunted me for years and years and years, will be my world starting from tomorrow.

    Does Infinity Drink Tea? by Ji Young Lee

    There was once a time when two honeybees, Ada and Evan, were the sole collectors of the sweet honey-ambrosia in Paradise. They were special. They were Original. Their task was a special assignment ordered by Mother Earth; she told her two little foragers to roam free, to help themselves to the bloom of nature.

    The Debt by William Austin

    ‘Does that make me a bad person?’

    ‘No, of course not. It’s yours.’

    Kinkade by Matthew Perryman

    A tempestuous hum filled the Langham’s illustrious ballroom. Its vaulted chamber was awash with a sea of influential figures, who hailed from all variety of fields. They had flocked here for a charity benefit held by the esteemed Beatrice Steele, whose humanitarian agenda was even less genuine than the altruism boasted of by each guest.

    Copyright of individual works is retained by the authors and reproduced here under license. Please do not republish or duplicate without written permission.