Debut

She was scared; her first time. She sung her heart out to the huge crowds of Kent. Were they to like her songs? Her voice? HER? This was the first time they had come to see of such a young new soul. A soul that was to be let out soon. As soon as she was up on stage... She knew. She knew that this was to all blow off and she would be just great. But was this the case? As she sang her last song… She heard them clap. Was this it? The end had come… So soon?

debut

DEBUT
It was to happen. I was so scared; I could feel the nerves down my spine. I could hear the cheers. I walked to the stage and closed my eyes. Just then I cleared my throat.

debut

pride and joy rush through me

but the task ahead leaves me numb
theres a first for everything i tell myself,
then the thought of my mum:
her striking voice rings through my body
a call i cannot answer
but the cheers of the lane make me
feel better a whole lot faster.
But this boy from leyton,a wonder kid?
or a little dreamer with bite
it dose not matter what i did
all that counts is tonight
so with the cockerel infront
and Mr Jol behind
i took my steps
into another life:
a life at the lane

Debut

I saw him come at first. I thought that I could not be touched.
Then, that whats came to be…
I guess.
My first was not meant to be like how it was. It was ‘sposed to be pure.
But that’s not what came to be…
I guess.
It was like a film. And I watched it take place, sat on my own.
I’m more on my own than all times in the past…
I guess.
I’m calm now, split by guilt and the sour taste of it.
That taste will stay with me for all time now…
I guess

Debut

The hairs on his neck stood on end as he watched the clocks hand pace around its face. The thoughts in his head spun round as if in a race. He felt a drop of sweat trickle down his head. Sound of foot steps awoke him from his day dreams and terror rushed through his body like a snake. Today was his big day, tonight was his big night, his first fight. The knock on the door was like the chimes of the church bells. He rolled the white tape around his hands and slid the gloves on his fists.

Debut

My heart beats fast my blood pumps hard I pant I wheeze I need to
Stop…
And breathe.
I can’t go on I need to rest I have no strength I sloooooow dooooooown like a worn old car
Oh but I can’t… if I could just…
Stop…
And think.
Think of the prize think of the end I must go on, go on to win
All eyes are on me I know this is it. I spEEd Up I feel like I’ve been charged
I can see it I’m so close yes I’ve done it at last I can
Stop.

Début

Hand on the prop, heart in her mouth.
Death was her stage, lights turned right down. Shrouds of dead eyes, claps heard out loud. This was her night, she would end their fight.

Step by step, the time grew short. Beat by beat, the veil shall fall.
Her script has no words, no lines to act to. But worn in her mind, was that line with a clue; “His heart went one way, so his life ends this day”.
The scene now etched in, it’s time right on queue. Her hand knew it’s time; his life's end was now due.

debut

As the train came to a stop I knew this was it, dads held their sons tight as they knew this was the last time they would see them, but they could not say their last words, the train door banged. It was time. Now the train swarmed with troops, screams filled the train, I don’t know what came next, must have blacked out. it must have been a while since I had blacked out ‘cause now I was out of the train and in the camp. I would not lie down and die, I knew that this was it.

Debut

The lights switched on, the stage is filled with cheers, her throat felt weird, her voice made a croak, and then the song slipped from her red lips, and her feet went tap, tap, her dance and her song joined, the crowd seemed please, she was great, and they all thought so too. The rest of the stage was then filled with more dance and song, and it grew and grew. They all danced, in this dance of joy and sung a song full of grace and then they suddenly had to come to a very quick and sharp stop.

Debut

It was his first day. His mind was else where. Think, was this fair? The huge gates open up their mouth and told him to come in. He was the one they waited for. A strange sense went down to his toes.
He looked back, only to see there was no way back. Mothers and fathers kiss their child and said bye. He was the only one left. One step was what he had to take but how?
There it was the doors stared at him. He can’t give up and in he went for the day of his life.

Debut

She looked out of the glass of the car. Out at the dark grey clouds above her. An omen to greet her on the new start. Her mum and dad, no care for her pain. The car came to a fleet halt. Out she came and stared at the belfry, sky high. She was a small ant; it was a big, bull. It glared at her. Smiled to say ‘your mine’ .A kiss from Mum. A pat from Dad. She was left, lone. Bait to her new peers. Her first day at school had come. There was no way back.

debut

Snip, snip, cut. Cut, snip, snip. A weight off my mind. A new start. A new me. Yet like any new thing - would they like it?

Chop, chop, chop. Months of growth gone in a tick. Hair on the floor. Dead cells now twice as dead.

As it falls, I think - is this wise? I'm told I'll be a whole new being with this cut. That's wrong.

Then it is done, and I stare back at me, then walk out in to the open world - a rush of wind in my face, now free for the world to judge.

Debut

Only Bad thoughts ran through his head
Which was fear and dread...

He felt like a worn out cup... but

As he took that step, the crowd stood up;
His heart was the beat of a wild drum.
He thinks he is known as a s**m

There is no way out, the chief chose HIM

He felt weird... gay weird;
As he came out with a grim face and

He saw the love of the fans.

The way they scream... all for him

The fear went and in came a smile

As he walks to the pitch in style.

Debut

Her Palms are wet, her eyes wide set. She feels scared stiff, its her first time.
Will she be good? She just has one chance to please, if it goes wrong then it’s no more.
The time is near, the one chance, the BIG chance.
The drapes are drawn so she clasps him and puts him to her lush lips, she shakes.
She looks round to see nowt, just her and him now.
All the dreams of this scene went great; no flaws.
She moves her thumbs up and down him and she plays the tune, just her and her flute.

Task 11: Debut

[N.B. This whole post is available as a podcast by clicking here.]

début (noun)

1. a first public appearance on a stage, on television, etc.;
2. the first appearance of something, as a new product;
3. (of a young woman) a formal introduction and entrance into society, as at an annual ball;
4. the beginning of a profession, career, etc.

Look carefully at this piece of writing, entitled 'Début':

Debut

The drapes hung like dense clouds, a safe screen from those who might jeer or cheer. Fear pierced her veins; its hot pulse rushed through her heart, but left her cold too: she could feel her hands shake as they gripped the chair, and the chair, in turn, shook too. Soon to be thrown to the throng like a slave to a den of beasts, she did not trust her crowd. Then the sea of red cloth drew to each side and she stood there in the harsh, hot light. There was no way back now – this was it.

Now read it again, considering the following questions:

• What is it describing?
• What do we find out about the narrator/protagonist?
• How does it use simile and metaphor to bring the narrative to life?
• How does it enhance that narrative with rhythm, rhyme and alliteration?
  
• How does the narrative use tension to build towards a climax?

Now think about other scenarios in which someone might be making their début. An athlete or swimmer, perhaps, at a major championship (or even the olympics); a musician, auditioning to join a successful band; a child starting at a brand new school. We make different débuts throughout our life - some life-changing, some less so, but all, at the time, immensely significant and often rather nerve-wracking.

Now look again at the piece of writing above. What else do you notice about it? Nothing? Look really closely.

What do all the words have in common?

Worked it out yet?

And how many words are there?

Hopefully you are with me now: the piece of writing above consists of exactly 100 words - each consisting of only 1 syllable. It is entirely monosyllabic.

Why is this important? It is all about discipline. Over the next few weeks, I am going to give you a number of exercises which will test, hone and develop your discipline with language. Just like a musician will spend hours playing scales and arpeggios; just like an athlete will spend hours doing sit-ups, or press-ups, or squat-thrusts; so a writer becomes successful only if they are disciplined with their craft. And, as a writer, your craft is not speed on the racetrack; nor is it virtuosity with a violin; your craft is language.

All of your tasks over the next few weeks will require you to discipline your use of language in response to a number of stringent rules - BUT without ever losing impact or originality. EVERYTHING you write should be engaging, fresh and powerful - but it should achieve those things whilst ALSO adhering to the rules I set you.

And your rules for this week? Well, you have probably guessed by now:

1. Title: Début
2. Words: exactly 100 and ALL monosyllabic
3. Figurative language: frequent use of simile and metaphor
4. Auditory language: frequent use of rhythm, rhyme and alliteration
   
5. Structure: build steadily towards a climax
6. Deadline: midnight on Saturday 22nd September
   

As for the words themselves, that is where I hand the cauldron to you. It is now up to you to go away and make some wordvoodoo of your own...