Francis by Patrick

There is a park in Canada called Quetico Park, it is known for its lovely lakes, for family holidays, great  hiking, camping, tall trees and acres of land. The water was crystal clear you could drink the water straight from the lakes .But I wont be going there anytime soon. There once was a girl called Francis Brandywine. She is 17 years old and she has black hair like coal. She has a daring attitude, and her choices were usually questioned by her friends and family.

One night Francis waited until her mum and dad were fully asleep. It was dark but not to dark, you could hear a whisper on the other side of the park. So she snuck out of the tent very quietly. It was a bit of a walk to get to the lake through bushes, over fallen trees but she got there in the end. She hoped in the boat and rowed over the pitch black lake for about 20 minutes till she thought she was at the deepest part of the clear lake which was  rumored to be 300 ft deep.

She stopped and she lay down on the boat looking up at the stars illuminating the sky above her. She wrote in her diary a bit. Then there were three knocks on the bottom of the boat. She looked around the boat thinking that she hit shore but she was still half a mile away from shore. Francis might of hit a turtle or a log. Just when she thought she imagined it there were three crisp louder knocks on the bottom of the boat. The silence stretched out, now she had to row to shore, she was on the verge of tears. She stopped with exhaustion and out of breath, she looked around but she didn't move. Something must of held her back. She waited for about 20 minutes writing and drawing in her journal. Just when she calmed down and thought she imagined it, the knocks came again, rocking the boat as loud as a base drum. She had questionable thoughts like to stick the oar in the water and when the tip hit the water there was a silent tug at the other end. She jumped back and she knocked the other oar in th the water. It floated away. She was stuck out on the lake, waiting all night long for the knockings, to come again.

Her boat drifted ashore the next morning. Her doodles and drawings are the only way we know what happened to her. On the last page written with a muddy finger were the words, “I did knock first.”

Francis by Rallen

Francis

Francis Brandywine and her family were regular visitors to Quetico Park. They enjoyed the outdoors; kayaking, tramping and camping. This trip was unusual due to the strange mystery.

A 17 year old girl named Francis Brandywine, stayed up all night until her family were fast asleep. She came out of the tent and carried her journal through the cold, misty forest. She noticed a boat, floating by the mystical lake of Quetico Park. So she made her way to the boat and rowed for 20 minutes. She looked back and was satisfied of where she was.

Francis laid there, looking at the dark blue sky and relaxed for a bit. All of a sudden, there was a knock at the bottom of the boat. Knock, Knock, Knock! Francis stood up and was shaken with fear. She shook her head, kneeled down and checked over the side of the boat, to see if anything bump or drifted  into it, however nothing was there. So she laid back down again and started thinking about the mysterious noise. Silence stretched out. The Knock came back again but it was even louder. The boat was shaking. She decided to take one of the oars and put it in the lake. There was a strong, silent tug. She jumped back, losing the other oar and now she has no options.

It was almost midnight. Francis was still there in the boat, crying. She wished that it wouldn’t happen again. But she was wrong. The knock came again but it was louder than a bass drum. Francis was jumping in the air. She couldn’t stop. She wrote in her journal the whole night. The knocking wouldn’t stop.

The next day, the boat was empty. All that was left, was her frantic drawings inside her journal. But on the last page, a wet muddy looking fingerprint, wrote

                                    “ I did knock first.”

Great Writing Victor

This is the introduction to Victor's narrative story, Me Being Me. Victor has clearly hooked the reader with his descriptive language and is painting a picture in the readers mind.
Well done Victor on some excellent writing.

The moon emerged from the dark ocean, and hovered into the shaded sky,  radiating its pale glowing face to the world. It’s reflection shimmered on the gleaming surface of the lake in Quetico Park. The roots of the towering pine trees clutched on the drenched soil, the numerous dazzling stars were displayed on the boundless sky. The view brings great pleasure in front of my eyes, but I will never go there again.

Positive Writing

Quetico Park was a great place for campers with beautiful scenery of trees, and lakes so fresh you can drink from them. This is a place where bears stray along and the park is so vast it could take days to get from one side to the other without a single human coming in sight. But people won’t be having their vacation there any more, not since the disappearance of Francis Brandywine. 

By Nathan 

Francis was 17 years old at the time, with a reckless personality and most of her choices could be questioned. Francis liked to find peaceful places where she could lie back and write in her journal, just a place where she could be alone for once. She always longed to be the different one, that found and did new things, and tonight that had all come true.

By Elizabeth

It all happened one dark, cloudy night. Francis Brandywine waited quietly in her tent on the shore near one of the many lakes in the wonderful park. As soon as she knew her family was asleep, she crept quietly out of her tent and looked at the numerous stars in the night sky. Her charcoal black hair moving with the wind. She shuffled along the muddy campground her lantern illuminating the forest around her. Trees towered over her as she continued on her way towards the canoe.

By Katia 

My family and I loved going to Quetico Park, up until this year we would go camping, hiking, fishing and kayaking around the clear blue lake, without seeing another soul. After the incident with Francis Brandywine my family and everyone else who enjoyed going to Quetico Park decided not to go.

By Hannah

 

Francis Brandywine by Carmen R

FRANCIS BRANDYWINE

Quetico Park, Canada. Francis Brandywine’s family, had been frequent campers to this pristine, isolated camping park. Until that one, unfortunate night. When Francis, young reckless raven haired Francis of the mere age of seventeen, had waited till her parents were deep in their slumber. Once certain of this, she strode from their campsite with her journal in hand, through forests of thin evergreens, to the shore of one particular lake. Having planned to row in the family rowboat to the centre of the lake, rumored to be three hundred feet, to stare in awe at the star soaked night skies, and to write in her journal. This journal is the only reason the happenings of that eventful night, told in Francis’ hurriedly jotted down and terrifying words, are known to this day.

She reached the shore in her haste, breaking through the thin forest that outlined the edge of water and land. Gently eased the rowboat into the inky dark expanse of water, water so clean you could drink it straight from the lake. Rowing further and further from the shore and into the night. She finally chose a distance, some twenty minutes or so from shore, and set the two oars down. Laying down on the row boat's floor, she calmly  gazed at the glistening sky, writing in her journal. Her breathing and heart beat were synced, both slow and steady, and her thoughts wondered of many things in a content revery. That is when, she heard it. The first knock.

It was short, but loud enough, Francis sat up in bewilderment. Not afraid, yet. Looking over the side of the boat, expecting to see a rock, a log maybe even having drifted to shore. But found nothing of the sort. In fact she saw nothing at all, except the dark, calm waters. She waited for another knock. None came. Tossing aside the sound as a figment of her own imagination, she lay back down. Silence consumed the air. Another knock, she placed, came from under the rowboat. Louder, sharper. Francis was confused, even just slightly concerned. She checked to see if the boat had reached the shore or if perhaps it were some animal. She found the boat was still, gently swaying in the centre of the lake. Once again, she dismissed the sound. But again, just like before, when Francis had assumed the noise was her imagination, as the silence began to stretch out like a rubberband, there was another knock.

This knock was as loud as Francis’ now thrumming heartbeat and her quickened breathing. Making up her mind to head back to land, she grabbed the oars, and with all her strength she paddled as hard as she could. Through the calm waters, she rowed. And rowed and paddled and rowed. And she got no where, though the rowboat should have made quick progress on this gentle night, almost as if something were holding the boat in place. And this made her use one of the oars, a questionable decision,  in a pointless attempt to poke at anything that could be under the boat and holding it in place. A strand of weed, a rock, a large hand… all thoughts which trembled through Francis Brandywine’s mind. She poked and prodded. Something, forceful and silent, yanked the oar into the deep, freezing waters.

She was knocked backwards into the boat, hitting the other oar as it followed suit and sunk like the Titanic.

Now, she was scared. She cried. No, terrified. And she didn’t cry, she sobbed. A downpour of salty frustration and hundreds of droplets of petrifiedness. All that Francis was able to do was wait for the sunrise and for help and could only sob waterfalls more as the knocks went through the night.

The boat drifted to shore, the next morning. With the frantic jottings of Francis Brandywine, in her journal. A journal which was opened to the final page. A page which was damp and in writing that looked like it was hastily written with a muddy finger. It read:

I  DID  KNOCK   FIRST.

Francis couldn’t tell us what happened that night. Because Francis Brandywine, was never found in the boat, or the forest. Francis Brandywine, was NEVER seen again.

Francis Writing

The Room 13 children have been exploring the writing prompt 'Francis' for their narrative writing. It is a great story, with rich language that motivates children to build tension in their story writing. Over the next few days, I will be publishing children's work for your reading pleasure. 

Also watch the video clip of 'Francis.' 

 

The following material can be located at the Literacy Shed website. 

 

 

I WON’T BE GOING BACK TO QUETICO PARK ANYTIME SOON. NOT AFTER WHAT HAPPENED TO A GIRL NAMED FRANCIS BRANDYWINE.

Written by novelist & screenwriter Dave Eggars, for the ever-popular radio show This American Life, animated film Francis is the tense tale of the unexplained happenings on a lake in the middle of an Ontario nature reserve.

HER MOUTH WENT DRY. SHE HELD ONTO EACH SIDE OF THE BOAT, AND NOW SHE COULD ONLY WAIT TO SEE IF IT HAPPENED AGAIN.

One night on a family camping trip to Quetico park, the reckless raven-haired Francis waits until her family have fallen asleep and takes a rowing boat out to the middle of the lake. Hoping to find a quiet spot where the teenager can lay on her back, stare at the sky and write in her journal, her expectations of a peaceful night at one with nature are soon shattered when an unexpected noise comes from the water below.

With a voiceover so rich and detailed that you could close your eyes and let your imagination run wild, it’s impressive that Hickey’s short feels so perfectly realised.

Narrative Writing

This term the Senior Syndicate is looking at Narrative Writing. The following information can be found at the English Online website. The following information provided the children with the features and structure that is required in the narrative genre.

Purpose
The basic purpose of narrative is to entertain, to gain and hold a readers' interest. However narratives can also be written to teach or inform, to change attitudes / social opinions eg soap operas and television dramas that are used to raise topical issues. Narratives sequence people/characters in time and place but differ from recounts in that through the sequencing, the stories set up one or more problems, which must eventually find a way to be resolved.
Types of narrative
There are many types of narrative. They can be imaginary, factual or a combination of both. They may include fairy stories, mysteries, science fiction, romances, horror stories, adventure stories, fables, myths and legends, historical narratives, ballads, slice of life, personal experience.
Features

• Characters with defined personalities/identities.
• Dialogue often included - tense may change to the present or the future.
• Descriptive language to create images in the reader's mind and enhance the story.

Structure
 In a Traditional Narrative the focus of the text is on a series of actions:
Orientation: (introduction) in which the characters, setting and time of the story are established. Usually answers who? when? where? eg. Mr Wolf went out hunting in the forest one dark gloomy night.
Complication or problem: The complication usually involves the main character(s) (often mirroring the complications in real life).
Resolution: There needs to be a resolution of the complication. The complication may be resolved for better or worse/happily or unhappily. Sometimes there are a number of complications that have to be resolved. These add and sustain interest and suspense for the reader.
 To help students plan for writing of narratives, model, focusing on:

• Plot: What is going to happen?
• Setting: Where will the story take place? When will the story take place?
• Characterisation: Who are the main characters? What do they look like?
• Structure: How will the story begin? What will be the problem? How is the problem going to be resolved?
• Theme: What is the theme / message the writer is attempting to communicate?

Language

• Action verbs: Action verbs provide interest to the writing. For example, instead of The old woman was in his way try The old woman barred his path. Instead of She laughed try She cackled.
• Written in the first person (I, we) or the third person (he, she, they).
• Usually past tense.
• Connectives,linking words to do with time.
• Specific nouns: Strong nouns have more specific meanings, eg. oak as opposed to tree.
• Active nouns: Make nouns actually do something, eg. It was raining could become Rain splashed down or There was a large cabinet in the lounge could become A large cabinet seemed to fill the lounge.
• Careful use of adjectives and adverbs: Writing needs judicious use of adjectives and adverbs to bring it alive, qualify the action and provide description and information for the reader.
• Use of the senses: Where appropriate, the senses can be used to describe and develop the experiences, setting and character:
  • What does it smell like?
  • What can be heard?
  • What can be seen - details?
  • What does it taste like?
  • What does it feel like?
   
• Imagery
  • Simile: A direct comparison, using like or as or as though, eg. The sea looked as rumpled as a blue quilted dressing gown. Or The wind wrapped me up like a cloak.
  • Metaphor: An indirect or hidden comparison, eg. She has a heart of stone or He is a stubborn mule or The man barked out the instructions.
  • Onomatopoeia: A suggestion of sound through words, eg. crackle, splat, ooze, squish, boom, eg. The tyres whir on the road. The pitter-patter of soft rain. The mud oozed and squished through my toes.
  • Personification: Giving nonliving things (inanimate) living characteristics, eg. The steel beam clenched its muscles. Clouds limped across the sky. The pebbles on the path were grey with grief.
   
• Rhetorical Questions: Often the author asks the audience questions, knowing of course there will be no direct answer. This is a way of involving the reader in the story at the outset, eg. Have you ever built a tree hut?
• Variety in sentence beginnings. There are a several ways to do this eg by using:
  • Participles: "Jumping with joy I ran home to tell mum my good news."
  • Adverbs: "Silently the cat crept toward the bird"
  • Adjectives: "Brilliant sunlight shone through the window"
  • Nouns: "Thunder claps filled the air"
  • Adverbial Phrases: "Along the street walked the girl as if she had not a care in the world."
  • Conversations/Dialogue: these may be used as an opener. This may be done through a series of short or one-word sentences or as one long complex sentence.