Creative Writing Commons^™

My Brother's Recital, Bill Dye

Manuscripts

The big night had arrived. My eight; year-old brother was to perform on the "eighty-eight" in his first recital. Tonight was the climax of a month of madness. Four long weeks had seen the rise and fall of the neighbors' patience. Day and night, night and day, all they heard was piano, piano, piano! They, as well as we, almost went mad. It would not have been too bad if Al could have played the piano without making it an instrument of torture .. But his brand of music involved no more than two fingers, one on each hand.

Compulsory Military Training, Rhea Mcgoldrick

Manuscripts

The compulsory military training plan now before congress, but with little chance of immediate consideration, is one of great importance to us all. The fact that we were thrown into war, and were definitely unprepared, has made us fully realize that we should give some deep thought to the problem of future military training for our boys.

Compulsory Religious Courses, Patricia Jowitt

Manuscripts

More and more Americans are turning toward God to discover an answer to their personal needs. Today many of the people of the last generation have no knowledge of the mores which are the necessary foundation of religion. These consider themselves too adult to attend Sunday School; therefore, a substitute for this basic instruction should be provided.

In One World, Tom Beckwith

Manuscripts

How very strange it seems that the majority of minds still believe in distinctions _ yes, distinctions while experiencing life, and, even more absurd and unethical, distinction after life. Can it be that after being submitted to the distinctions between race, color, creed, religion, and position while on earth that we, must go on through eternity, that endless span of existence, still making a distinction between supposedly good and evil?

Herr Muller, Mary Fritsche

Manuscripts

This sketch is based em a short story, "The Lord of Marutea," by James Norman Hall. The setting is one of the islands of French Polynesia. Forrest, a man employed by a German motion picture Company, comes to make a picture of island life and finds Marutea ruled by Herr Muller, the German island trader who has established himself there.

Informal Interview, Betty Jean Wirth

Manuscripts

While eating dinner at the Indianapolis Athletic Club the other evening we noticed an old gentleman dining alone next to us. His loneliness was so apparent that we invited him over to our table. We were quite surprised to find that we had a celebrity in our midst when he joined us. The old gentleman was Meredith Nicholson, American essayist and novelist.

Fashions Of Spring, Barbara Bard

Manuscripts

Queenly spring is here in her cloak of moss-green, trimmed with folds of orchid, white, and yellow. Her fair head is crowned with a golden, glowing sun, and a pale blue and white veil. She brings with her a treasure chest, lavishly filled with natural beauty. Her warm soul gently penetrates through the long, raw winter's cold

An Asset To Society, Nina Gallin

Manuscripts

The majority of the good American doctors today are in the armed services. These doctors have become accustomed to working together and they have had good equipment. Many of them have closed their offices completely, and a large number of these will have no desire to go to great expense to reopen their offices and buy up-to-date equipment (for that, too, is constantly changing). These men have stated preferences for state medicine or, at least, for group work. If it is what the physicians wish and if it will benefit society as much as I believe it will, state medicine …

Canine Caprice, Carolyn Harvey

Manuscripts

"These Never Were Traitors" was the title of the huge composite picture - an artist's attempt to convey his idea of the noble dog. Evidently he knew well the story of the faithful dog mourning in watchful vigil at the grave of his dead master, for he pictured him there amid the eternal green of life and the stone-gray of death. He knew well the knightly heroism of the German shepherd bearing his sign - the Red Cross - among the bloody battlelines of Flanders Field. Perhaps he had seen a child tugged by its clothing from the path of …

That "Exciting Newspaper Life", Joan Werner

Manuscripts

If you were to enter the City Room of a morning newspaper, such as the Indianapolis Star, at noon, it would be virtually deserted. That "exciting newspaper life" of which people often speak would seem definitely false. The shiny black and silver typewriters would have ceased their noisy clatter. The sleek black teletype machines, with their yellow paper tongues curling to the floor, would squat dormant and waiting.

Case Of Claude, Betty Jo Fark

Manuscripts

Claude rose easily when he heard the monotonous voice of the judge announcing, "Case of Claude Winters versus the United States." He was surprised when his pulse didn't quicken. He wasn't excited. He walked forward slowly because he walked stiffly, conscious of the filled court room behind him.

It Rained Today, Mary Alice Kessler

Manuscripts

It had been raining all day. Fritz hated the dingy flannel clouds that hung upon the forlorn pine trees; he hated the squishy gray sand and the dimpled cheek of gray sea water that lay at the foot of the Slippery hill. He hated the prostrate sand grass and dripping birch leaves, for they held him imprisoned in the cottage, and he wanted to walk and swim and race with the wind. He wanted to write, but he couldn't write on a day like this. His inspiration was as bogged down as the muddy sand. There was no wind today, …

When The Apple Trees Blossom, Rosemary Haviland

Manuscripts

Regina waved the bee from her face and watched it circle around her in a dizzy path. When she could no longer see it, she ran to the lilac bush and shook it. The last bee had been hovering among the great purple clusters and had fled when she had touched it. Perhaps there would be another one to shoo away if she looked at each purple mass. Carefully she separated the blossoms with her hands and peered into the shadows. There were no more bees, only the scent of the flowers.

Songs From "Wilhelm Tell", David C. Patrick

Manuscripts

The following selections are translated from the German of the first three songs from "Wilhelm Tell," by Friedrich Schiller.

Not Guilty, Joseph F. Workman

Manuscripts

Second Place, Short Story Division, 1945 Butler Literary Contest

The courtroom was lighted with a bright, blinding flash. The twelve selected ministers of the jury, representing all religious denominations, stared solemnly at the defendant who sat in the seat of judgment. With flrm straight lips but in a manner not Unkind, the foreman arose, and said the jury was ready to hear the evidence. The defendant, a sailor with an oil-soaked uniform that showed spots of blood on his shoulders and chest, stood and faced the jury.

The Birthday, Joan Fuller

Manuscripts

First Place, Short Story Division, 1945 Butler Literary Contest.

The woman's arms were tired, and her back, as she pushed the iron. But the pain of her body was somehow outside her, and she was only her thoughts. There was so much to do before Grandma's party. After Mrs. Knox's ironing was done there was hall and living room to clean, the cake to ice, and lunch to fix for Grandma and the baby. If only Ella May's time hadn't come early, she could have helped with the easy things. She'd been early with Carol, too, though, and they might …

Objective, E. Janet Rugg

Manuscripts

First Place, Essay Division, 1945 Butler Literary Contest

Have a purpose! Certainly if one is to get on in life with a degree of success, this seems a practical injunction. To know one's objective is prerequisite to worthwhile living, for the goal determines the course to be pursued, and the nature of the goal influences the method of pursuit.

The Translation Of Peter Polo, Mary Kershner

Manuscripts

Prize Story - Indianapolis Branch, League of American Pen Women Contest

In a way, the morning opened like any other morning. Peter wakened, scratched an ear, rubbed an eye, straightened out a leg that had been folded like a bent wing beneath him. The same stiffness all over his body, the same heaviness weighting down his eyes. The difference was that he had wakened earlier. He floated quietly on a wave with his face turned to the sky.

A Letter, Joe Berry

Manuscripts

This is part of 'a letter which Joe Berry wrote to his mother less than three weeks before his death.

The Silversmith, Joe Berry

Manuscripts

This selection is an excerpt from. "The Silversmith," winner of the 1942 League of American Pen Women Prize

Poems, Louise Dauner

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These poems are chosen from the group which won the 1936 Butler Literary Contest Poetry Prize.

Jonathan's House, Marguerite Young

Manuscripts

This poem placed first in the 1929 Butler Literary Contest, Poetry Division.

Front Matter

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No abstract provided.

After Alice By Karen Hofmann, Dania Tomlinson

The Goose

Book review of Karen Hofmann's After Alice.

Journey With No Maps: A Life Of P.K. Page By Sandra Djwa, Mckay Mcfadden

The Goose

Review of Journey With No Maps: A Life of P.K. Page by Sandra Djwa.

Girl-King, Brittany Cavallaro

University of Akron Press Publications

The poems in Brittany Cavallaro's Girl-King are whispered from behind a series of masks, those of victim and aggressor, nineteenth-century madame and reluctant magician's girl, of truck-stop Persephone and frustrated Tudor scholar. This "expanse of girls, expanding still" chase each other through history, disappearing in an Illinois cornfield only to re-emerge on the dissection table of a Scottish artist-anatomist. But these poems are not just interested in historical narrative: they peer, too, at the past's marginalia, at its "blank pages" as well as its "scrawls and dashes." Always, they return to "the dark, indelicate question" of power and sexuality, of …

Volume 12, Issue 3: Full Issue

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No abstract provided.

Vignettes

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No abstract provided.

View From The Choir, Barbara Harding

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No abstract provided.

Materialism And Idealism In Education, Patsy Walker

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No abstract provided.