Writing with Stardust: The Ultimate Descriptive Guide for students, parents, teachers and writers (29 page)

Never had he encountered these emotions on his many hunts. He had quarried after dread vampyres in the fathomless bowels and dripping basins of the deepest caves. He had ascended sky-kissing mountains to seek out blood-besmeared trolls. He had even, as a favour to a foreign king, crossed a tyranny of distance to bring to bay the Black Golwroth of Karaganda in his lair. But this dark forest was different to anywhere he had been before. Hunting after base beasts into dens and burrows, down begrimed pits and through gloomy hollows, could not begin to compare to this gullet of madness. Just being here felt like partaking in an unholy parody of life. He tried to think of a word for the renders of human flesh he was gazing upon, but it eluded him. They had maggoted their way to this glade, burrowing like wood-weevils into the corrupted heart of the forest. He noted with contempt their filed-down fangs and brutish weapons; clunky clubs, brutal bull-axes and wicked sickles. It seemed fitting to him that they would inhabit this sacrilegious wood.

Two weeks of plunging through stunted coppices and hacking at misshapen thickets had gotten him here. It was a grotesque haunt, offensive to eye, ear and nostril. The air was hot and stale, burning his lungs like the fumes from brimstone. The floor of the forest belched up constant waves of foul and rancid odours that smelt like sickly excrement. All the freewheeling flotsam of the trees gathered there in blasted mounds of steaming mulch. The scorch of the sun didn't cause this. Only an occasional, listless ligament of light would pin-prick through the dense foliage. It was like a constipated beam of hopelessness, limply flickering. It had all the cheerless comfort of a dying candle flame. Heat was provided by the thickness of the forests canopy. It compressed down upon the lucifugous heads of those below, creating a sunless curtain of chaos-black. Toxic-yellow fungi tossed their pestilent spores into this goulash of decay. Deformed trees pressed in from the sides, adding to the mood of stuffy claustrophobia.

Only one trickling streamlet gasped its way through the stomach-souring compost. Like the river of hell, it was Acheron-black and gleamed with a deadly lustre. At its swirling edges, bladder-brown leaves got sucked into the inky morass and added to the treacly pollution. On the trees, wet clumps of glistening Jews Ear hinged themselves slickly to the bark like clotted pus. Their glossy texture resembled the skin of slugs. Over the bitter water, great screens of milky mist were heaving with their own steaming malice. Stealthy scarves of the mist detached themselves, slowly glided in silence and coiled serpent-like around helpless limbs. Between the trees, wispy cobwebs threaded out like fibrous star-streak. They would be the sinewy tentacles of destruction for all those who would dare their tensile strength. Exhaling miasmas of rotting vapour rose up to meet the webs, while above, fevered eyes, glazed with hunger, waited among the endless damp. Cruel as those eyes were, they lacked the ferocity of the hunter's eyes.

Those eyes were scanning the shroud of shadow at the other side of the fire. There appeared to be a crude, stone building made of poorly built, bulging stone. It was lichen-encrusted and a rotting roof lay upon it. From its interior came the most piteous moans and stomach-souring thumps. A caterwauling sound, somewhere between a tortured whine and a despairing screech, echoed in the night air. The tormented screams of the victims seared his soul. He was kinless and kith-less, with neither family nor friend, yet he had been smelted in the fiery forge of violence since he was a child. He was no longer afraid. The blood-lust was upon him, a familiar feeling. He kissed his crucifix and left it to hang in the tree. Wrapped around each forearm were cords of thin rope, edged with serrated, razor-steel. He unfolded these, letting them hang from each hand. He had a sword and three throwing knives, but he left them in their sheaths. It would be gory work tonight, silent and bloody. He eased away from the tree, a foe far more deadly than the hemlock and wolfs bane his moccasins stepped over.

Skirting the glade, he made his way to the stone building. He couldn't see anyone guarding it, but could make out some horrible, stony voices from within. Their low harshness reminded him of lonely cemetery vaults and mildewed tombs. They were deep and seeped with malice. Creeping over to the wall, he searched for a gap between the stone to look through.

Four brutes with pop eyes and saucy beards stood over the villagers. They were wielding crude, bone-edged clubs. One of the bug-eyed heathens raised his club to continue his grisly work, but the monster-hunter had seen enough. “Abominations”, he whispered. He prepared himself to meet his Creator in this womb of pandemonium. He crept up to the entrance and stepped in…..

                                       SPELLINGS 

The most noticeable effect of the electronic age, education wise, is the impact it has had on spellings and concentration levels. I have mentioned how a student may feel that he/she is the lowest common denominator (L.C.D) when he is in a school environment. The English language must feel the same way when confronted by the minimalist spelling approach favoured by text messaging, twitter, Facebook and e-mailing. My term for it is ‘L.C.D syndrome’ because it reduces English to a bunch of phonics, phonemes and syllables that can take away from the beauty, scope and power of the language. If indeed we are all shackled by the limits of our imagination, and by definition, our language, it is the educator’s job to reaffirm the grounding and base that every child needs to succeed.

Students have a valid argument when arguing that spelling words correctly is a disadvantage in these mediums. I would tend to agree with them on that. The counter argument, however, is that
misspelling should be a choice
,
not a trend
. They will encounter plenty of mediums in their life where spellings will be crucial to leaving a good impression of their educational attainment. That is why there is a spelling worksheet attached to the book. The value of good spellings can never be underestimated. At all times, a student should be praised for
attempting
to spell. Progress varies among them from tortuous to exceptional. It is the effort that is important sometimes, not the end result. At the start of the school year, I put one word on the board for the incoming first years. I ask them to take it home and learn it off. It is:

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

Ironically, its nickname is P45. There are 45 letters and 19 syllables in this word. I break it down into its parts after the gasps of astonishment have died down. It then looks like this:

Pneumono/ ultra/ micro/ scopic/ silico/ volcano/ coniosis

The word immediately becomes more accessible. We then spend 20 minutes chanting it to get a feel for it. While we are chanting, we are looking at its spelling on the blackboard. I will then rub out the board and ask them to spell it as I call it out. I have taught many children who can spell it from memory before the 40 minute class is over. Usually, about half the class will have it learned to perfection by the next day. That is because it comes with a reward exclusive to their class; homework off for a week. The sense of pride and achievement that accrues from it is worth the effort. The point is that, in my experience, there’s no excuse for poor spelling. There is poor ability, poor motivation and poor instruction; but there’s no excuse for poor spelling.

                         
DESCRIBING FEMALES

                                                         FIGURE

LEVEL 1         LEVEL 2         LEVEL 3         LEVEL 4         LEVEL 5          OTHERS

1. She had a
slim
, hourglass figure.

2. She had a
slender
, svelte figure.

3. She had a
supple
, curvaceous figure.

4. She had a
willowy
, queenly figure.

5. She had a gymslip-thin,
statuesque
figure.

                                                           
BODY

1. She was elf-thin and her
lips were ripe
.

2. She was whip-thin and her
lips were juicy
.

3. She was sapling-thin and her
lips were lush
.

4. She was waif-thin and her
lips were luscious
.

5. She was orphan-thin and her
lips were ravishing
.

                                                            
WAIST

1. She had a bumblebee waist and
berry-red lips
.

2. She had a sylph-like waist and
raspberry-red lips
.

3. She had a chalice shaped waist and
strawberry-red lips
.

4. Her waist was goblet shaped and she had she had
cherry
-
red
lips
.

5. Her waist was oxbow shaped and she had
fuchsia-red lips
.

                                                 
COMPLEXION

1. Her skin was
perfect
and glowing

2. She had a
flawless
, bronzed complexion.

3. It had a
peerless
, citron tint to it.

4. She had
impeccable
skin with an ochrous hue.

5. She had
unblemished
skin with a peaches and cream complexion.

                                                  
EYEBROWS

1. She had plucked eyebrows of
midnight-black
.

2. She had arched eyebrows of
raven-black
.

3. She had eclipse shaped eyebrows of
coral-black
.