Creative Writing - Robert Frost At the concluding stanza he reveals he will be telling his story with " a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence". Pretend to be the old man in the poem and tell a biography from this perspective. ( remember it must be an unusual life plan) ---------------------------------------------------------- "Grandpa, are you ready to tell me your story for my school assignment?' asked Gary, my grandson, excitedly, as he reached for his booklet to take some notes on the story.

"Of course Gary, just come over here and sit down, I'm ready when you are," I said proudly; it isn't often people ask me about a story of my life. "Let me begin."

As a young boy I've always wanted to be a writer. After days of school I would bury myself in books and either took part in killing a dragon or even catching criminals. Books were my life and not only did I enjoy reading them but also writing. The urge inside me to express myself and put imagination onto paper was all too wonderful. Although sadly, there was one problem in my oh-so-small life: my parents.

They question the amount of time I spend reading or writing and consider it unhealthy or even worse a waste of time. This was due to mum and dad having a strong business background; it was always statistics this and facts that. How can anyone with half a mind think that is fun? Still, they continued to tell me, and wanting to make them proud I continued to study what they ask, because apparently it's meant to make my life happy.

"Robert !! Robert!? come down for your dinner before it gets cold!" mum shouted through the house impatiently.

" Coming, just a minute," I screamed back. " Dammit, and in the middle of the most crucial part of this chapter," I said to myself under my breath as I continue to read as fast as I possibly could, so I could get to dinner. Before I knew it I heard footsteps creeping up to my door. "Crap it's mum," I said to myself while trying to bookmark and hide to novel.

*knock* *knock* " What are you doing there Robert?" mum said with a strange but curious tone.

"Nothing mum, just getting ready for dinner," I answered back.

"You're not reading story books again are you? You know you're meant to study that newspaper I gave you on finance right?" asked mum.

"Yes, yes whatever, let's just go," I answered back while opening the door and heading downstairs.

At the dinner table, it was clear to me all my parents ever talk about is their fifty-kajillion year plan for me down to the very second and if I followed it I would become rich and happy.

" Mum... I've already told you, I want to be a writer, not some accountant or financial advisor. Besides, I entered one of my stories into a short story competition .Hopefully I'll go good right?" I asked.

" Not this again Robert... let me make this clear to you; studying business and working as a business man can open up endless opportunities to make money since you deal with it firsthand. Also, don't you want that big house or that fast car?" mum answered back with slight annoyance.

"It's true son; look and I'll show you the earnings of my latest client and how he is so successful," Dad said to me, although as he continued explaining it all became a blur to me; I didn't understand a single thing! Why does any 12 year old need to know this?!.

" Robert are you even paying attention? Look, if you become a writer there is a greater chance of failure and you'll most likely become poor," dad said with slight frustration, as it was obvious he was trying to reach out to me.

"I guess so..." I answered back while looking down at my plate and playing with my food.

"Okay... I'm full now, off to bed, good night mum and dad," I said to them as I dragged myself upstairs.

The very next morning as I finished brushing my teeth and getting dressed for school I saw a man dressed in black sitting at the dinner table with mum and dad, as I walked downstairs.

"Robert, I'm so proud of you," mum said as she hugged me tightly.

"Good work," dad said.

"What's going on?" I asked curiously to this odd sight.

"Son let me break it down to you; your little story has caught one of the eyes of our judges and not only will you receive the $5000 prize but a scholarship to Oxford University at the conclusion of high school," the man in black said with a slight sense of pride and happiness to be able to bring this news to such a small family.

"So does that mean I get to be a writer mum?" I asked not sure as to what the answer will be.

"Certainly yes," mum said.