“So far we have been exploring language-based strategies, but sometimes you will want to start with a specific idea, or event, as the basis of your creative text. This is what I call a referent-based strategy. Referent here means the object or event to which the text refers. The referent for a creative text can be an object, event or mood on which the text is based.”
Smith, Hazel (2005) The Writing Experiment; strategies for innovative creative writing, Allen & Unwin
‘Write a short creative text using one of the following referents: the mirror; the map or the machine’
They peered at each other uneasily,breathing ragged, crowded close together by the deep shadow, the still distant whoops and curses of their pursuers coming closer. The tall trees creaked, yet seemed unconcerned. All other animals had wisely fucked off at the first sign of trouble.
“I think we’re in a bit of a spot here Bobby,” said Micky. She could’ve been waiting for food, almost still but arms clanking as she crossed them over her chest. Kev and Pauly bobbed their heads up and down like fearful chickens and rattled. They could pass out any moment. It would have been comical if not for the very real threat revving closer each passing second. There wasn’t much of the twins, they couldn’t be expected to hold up in a scrap, thought Bobby. The Unit would kill them. They were drunk, probably off their tits from magic dust as well, and looking to get mean. Really mean. They could ill afford to get caught.
Bobby bent quickly and snatched up a stick. He pointed to Micky, then the other two muppets, and motioned them behind him in a loose half circle. He squatted in the loam, clearing debris away with manacled hands to make space, and drew a large rectangle. He then put little arrows within the centre of the shape, added tightly bunched X’s to the top middle, groups of jagged circles to the right side of the arrows, and a series of straggly looking W shapes on the left from the top down to the lowest. When he got to the bottom of the map, he just scuffed out the line all together, and spat.
“Right then,” Bobby said aloud. “There’s 10 of the guard, and only us four little turtledoves. I’d bet my beaver everyone else is toast.” He pointed to the arrow shapes. “We’re here in the middle of the scrub, on foot, with our hands still in chains.” He jabbed at the crosses near the top. “They’re belting towards us on those nasty quads. There’s a fuck ton of rubble to one side, then the pits,” he indicated the jagged circles with the point of the stick, “the sea is on the other, and at this time of year it’s cold and angry.” Bobby then slashed along the scrubbed out section of map with the stick. “And If we keep going this way we’ll hit the wasteland.”
“No thanks,” said Micky drily,tilting her head to one said and looking intently at the map. The twins’ heads bobbed again in unison. Chook, chook, chook. Pauly was a strange tinge of green.
Bobby twisted slightly and grinned up at his friends. “Getting out of this will be a piece of piss,” he said, cackling and clapping his hands.
Hello Its Jono 