Attention, creative writers! Every month, Creative Corner hosts a contest for the highlighted writer of the month! Submit your writing to Creative Corner and you will be immediately entered to win a journal. Congratulations to last month's winner, Melanie C
This month: JJ Norton and Mary
Below is a set of prompts for different styles of writing beyond journalism. The idea is that you can create some kind of creative writing piece inspired by one of the prompts, but it doesn't have to be. You can submit any piece of writing you would like to share! All submissions should be school-appropriate. You can also suggest prompts to be featured in the next issue.
December is the month of coziness and celebration. I would love to hear some prompts about this time of year.
You might choose to write about:
Write a story about 2025
Write something you wanna do in 2026
What is your favorite fantasy book published in 2025
Tell me your favorite firework story.
By JJ Norton
As we walk into the garden, I smell some of the flowers. The biggest building is the one straight in front of me. Soft chatter is heard from other sections of the garden as more and more ladies arrive from all over. I start to get nervous, knowing that I have to talk to these girls. That I will be competing with them for the prince's attention. Why do I have to do that when they aren’t even that interesting? I know so many girls back in my town who giggle over them. Yet they are dull and boring to even think about. My goal is to find a way to avoid their attention and escape like I was never here in the first place.
“This way, M’lady.” The man gestures with his hand and head lowered. He points to the left upper corner building that's attached with bridges to the biggest building. I’m guessing the royal family and their guests stay there, while me and up to 30 girls stay in the two side buildings attached to it. This means about 15 girls per building, so I have 14 other girls staying with me in this left-side attached part. I know that's not a lot, considering the kingdom has a lot of people. We have two main towns and up to 10 small villages, meaning 10 girls from the bigger, populated places and only one from our small villages are spread out. I have heard most people don't think small village girls will make it. They never have before.
The inside of the building is just as beautiful as it looks from the gardens. The walls shine with well-kept cleaning. I see a receiving room, plus a small library on the main floor. Most likely, a small kitchen in the back, too, for late night snacks. I understand now that I'm a “lady”-- not for long if I can help it-- and will have to act polite and not do "servants' work.” There are stairs for the three floors of bedrooms.
I look to my guide and wait for more instructions. He nods and bows to me: “You are to wait in the receiving room M’lady.”
I look behind me to the cracked-open door and the sound of faint whispers, knowing a few girls have arrived already. I nod and almost bow back but catch myself. I turn and slowly walk toward the door, not knowing what or who was waiting on the other side. I push it open more and the talking stops. Five pairs of eyes look at me, all beautiful but taking me in, wanting to know what the competition will be. Then, they look away, thinking I’m not that big of a deal. About three girls are dressed in silks I could never imagine touching. Two in a corner are more shy-looking and dressed similarly to my style. They smile and wave me over, knowing I am not scary.
I walk over to the two sofas in a corner they have taken over, and sit down by one girl. “Hi, my name is Jayla. Some call me Jay, though,” I say and look at the two pairs of eyes.
The girl by me has golden ocean waves for hair and matching smoky grey eyes. “Hello, I am Marigold Walls. I can go by Mary, though.”
The second girl with black and icy blue eyes shyly talks next. “Hi…my name is Jasmine. I go by Jasy.” Her voice is quiet and I hear snickers from the other girls, making fun of her from the other side of the room. Those other girls have eyes like daggers at us. I know they are trying to scare us, but that won’t work on me. I have faced worse and, as a village girl, I have seen worse. So, of course, they won’t scare me. For all I care, they are buzzing flies and I don’t care what they might think with their flashy jewelry and fancy dresses. A couple of feet from outside the room sound as a sign-- more girls are arriving. We are still missing nine girls. That is... if they show up. I have heard of girls running off with lovers of family to avoid this in the past.
By: Mary
The words flow out
Not intentional
But also not by accident.
It's not the usual,
The butterflies,
The hearts,
The silly little nicknames.
No, this is different
It's not butterflies,
It's fuzz, like a warm fire,
As a smile begs to show
Just because I said,
"I love you."
