Posted in Young Writers in Action

Young Writers in Action: The Magic Flower

The Magic Flower by Marie, 10, VIC

As they slowly arrived closer to the city, they started to calm down and forget about the bushfire. It suddenly hit Bailey. “What about the flower? What if it got burned in the bushfire?” she wondered to herself. The nerves started to come back.

“Mum,” she sighed. “What if the flower got burned in the bushfire?”

“Not the flower,” Mum said in a cheerful sort of voice. “That flower has been there for many, many years and it has survived many disasters.”

“Really?” Bailey asked.

“Yes the flower will be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Bailey is a little girl, who lives in a small village called Pringle. Her mum worked around the house, and her dad is a pilot so Bailey didn’t get to see her dad very often. Near by, just up on the hill, there was a magic flower you could wish on. The flower was a bright golden colour, which shines every time you make a wish. The smell was a lovely lavender scent. The stem was a beautiful bright green. The leaves were as bright as the sun, and at night they glitter liked stars.

One bright sunny morning Bailey went out to make her daily wish. She closed her eyes and held on to the flower very tight. As she was making her wish, she smelt something burning in the distance.

Suddenly she heard, “RUN RUN GET AWAY FROM THE FIRE.” Bailey was horrified. She sprinted down the hill and slammed the front door behind her. Her mum had heard about the fire. Bailey couldn’t decide what to take with her. Would she take her favourite teddy bear, would she take her favourite clothes or maybe even her comfy warm bed?

Bailey and her mum only had a few minutes to escape the bushfire. Bailey just grabbed her teddy bear and rushed to the car. Bailey’s mum was still in the house trying to quickly grab some photo frames and her car keys.

“Come on mum” Bailey sobbed. The door swung open and her mother came rushing out.

A few days later when it was safe enough they ventured back to the village. Bailey and her mum saw from the car window all the burned trees, all the black grass, most of the burned houses, the bushes with scent of burn. It was terrible. As they arrived closer and closer to their house, Bailey was getting very anxious. What if their house wasn’t there? Where would they live? Would they have any money to buy food or water?

They were so relieved to find that only their front fence was burned. Bailey was stressing about the flower. Bailey went off looking for the flower. The first place she looked was under her favourite gum tree. There it was in little burned pieces.

“It’s gone, it’s all gone. I am never going to find another flower like that again.” Tears ran down Bailey’s face. The tears dripped into the soil and suddenly, something magical happened … a new flower started to bloom. Bailey was relieved that the flower was alive and still magical. The stem still had that wonderful bright green colour, and that lovely lavender scent, and the leaves were still as bright as the sun.

A couple of months later, Bailey and her family moved back into the house. Bailey was glad that she still had her magic flower. Every day Bailey would go to the hill and give the flower water, and then she would make a wish.

Can you guess what that wish is?

This is one of a selection of stories we are featuring from Carey Baptist Grammar School in Victoria. Tune in on Monday  for the final great tale—it’s a scary one!

Posted in info, Young Writers in Action

Young Writers in Action: Sofie

Sofie by Ella, 10, VIC

She was a tiny golden cavoodle puppy; the quiet one out of the excited puppies on display. A beautiful fluffy coat and soft black padded paws.

I looked up at Dad. So did the puppy. He sighed. “All right!”

So ten minutes later we were getting instructed on how to take care of our puppy. It seemed to be taking a long time, I thought. Just then, the storeroom door opened and a lady carried my puppy out and gave her to me (we had been told it was a female) just as we were presented with an ownership form.

“Is it all right to sign it in the name of a child?” Dad asked. My heart skipped a beat. Could I really officially own this living hot water bottle?

“Sure,” the woman behind the counter said. I felt like I was in a dream as I signed the form. I looked down at the bundle in my arms. She really was adorable.


We were finally home. “Sofie hasn’t made a sound yet,” I thought as I jumped out of the car. I carried her out to the deck (she was going to be an entirely outside dog) and put her down.

“I’m going to call her Sofie,” I told my parents as they appeared, Dad carrying her kennel.

“Good name,” Dad nodded. Sofie slowly took a step.

Then another.

Next thing we knew she was rushing around like a headless chicken.

Dad went inside. He came out with his Magpies scarf and threw it to Sofie. Sofie sniffed it for a moment, then grabbed it in her mouth and ran around with it.

She was very tired when we put her to bed that night with a squeaky koala, a mini squishy soccer ball and a second-hand Magpies scarf.


I looked at my clock. 6am. Late enough. I quickly dressed and went out to the backyard. Sofie met me as soon as I was out the door. I took her down to the lawn, sat down, took her onto my lap and cuddled her. Ten minutes later I noticed she was asleep.


I fed Sofie and checked her water bowl was full. Then I had to go to school. I hated leaving her.

I got back from school. I played with Sofie for a couple of hours. In another few hours Dad got home from work. I noticed he looked a little grim. I thought he must have had a bad day at work—that was, until he and Mum exchanged looks. Then I knew something was up. They ushered me into the lounge room and started to talk.

I had to give Sofie away because of my stupid allergy to dogs which was previously unknown. Dad had sent out emails earlier that day advertising her. I could choose where she went.

I listened as Dad described the emails. Then, I looked at him. “I’ve decided.”


My heart sank as a car pulled up outside our house and an excited looking boy jumped out, soon followed by his mum. “At least she’s going to the best place,” I told myself as the doorbell rang. Sofie’s new owners appeared. Dad and I gave them a big cardboard box full of all Sofie’s things. The boy gave me a beautiful letter saying thank you.

Then it was time.

The boy carried her out to the car and put her into her cage, squeaking a pink rubber seal. “Looks like they have already bought her toys,” I thought as Sofie started chewing it.

I took a final look at her. “Goodbye Sofie,” I whispered. Then she was gone. I tried hard not to cry, only just succeeding.

I would never see her again.

This is one of a selection of stories we are featuring from Carey Baptist Grammar School in Victoria over the next week. Tune in tomorrow for another great tale!

Posted in Young Writers in Action

Young Writers in Action: The Building Challenge!

The Building Challenge by Christopher L, 10, VIC

I am hammering away and staring at John at the same time. He is way ahead of me and I don’t think I can do this.

I am Robert Trevor, I am 18 and today is the day of the Melbourne Building Competition. The warehouse is boiling, and because it is so big one fan doesn’t make much difference.

I had always hated John; we have had a huge rivalry ever since we’d met in primary school. We have been in about 10 building competitions against each other. I had won most of them, except for the time where I had accidentally clonked myself on the head with a hammer. I had to be admitted to hospital for a brain scan, which left John in the winning position. John’s family were very supportive of him so were very happy with his win. His family showed atrocious sportsmanship, they didn’t even say sorry to my family for cheering when I hit myself on the head. John’s family had always been very loud cheerers and they always boasted about that incident.

This time I am going to win no matter what. I am going to take this opportunity and use it well.

My heart is pumping and I wish they would just press the buzzer to start the competition.

The buzzer vibrates and everyone sprints to their benches to see what they have to do. Today we have to build an outside veranda. When I go to get my planks of wood I trip over and am in excruciating pain, I have dislocated my pinky finger. I am in agony now and feel as if I am about to faint. Some of the nurses come over and see if I’m alright, one of the doctors comes over and pops it back into place. That gives me a searing pain worse than dislocating it did. At least I can continue working now. I haven’t got off to a good start. When I go back to my veranda I see John smiling and his parents laughing.

There are 10 minutes to go and I have already had four accidents (not including all the cuts and bruises I have). I can’t believe there are only 10 minutes to go and I am still putting in the last few planks of wood.

“10 seconds to go” should out the judges. I start to freak out. I quickly run and grab the last few pot plants.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, that’s it, time’s up, step away from your verandas.”

It’s judging time and as the judges come up to the veranda I am almost choking I am so nervous. They say they like my idea of a simple veranda but that maybe it is too simple. It’s time to find out who has won, they’re up to second and first place and there is only me and John left.

“In second place we have … Robert Trevor” I’ve been beaten again and then they call out, “and in first place we have … John Anderson.”

I tried, I tired my hardest. I have cuts and bruises all over my body. As I watch my nemesis John step up and take the winner’s prize I feel woeful. For the second time John has beaten me by one position.

I force a smile onto my face. It is part of the competition. I have to be pleased for the winner. I hobble over to congratulate him. I shake his hand vigorously and slap him on the back in a friendly way with the other hand. Then I go to have a look at his veranda. I run my hand over the rail, it is smooth. I look at the joins in the corners, they are outstandingly perfect. John’s work is good, better than mine. He deserves to win.

“This work is unbeatable,” I say to John.

“Thanks he says, and smiles at me.

Perhaps one day we might work together instead of against each other.

This is one of a selection of stories we are featuring from Carey Baptist Grammar School in Victoria over the next week. Tune in tomorrow for another great tale!

Posted in Young Writers in Action

Young Writers in Action: Mr Malgroot

Mr Malgroot by Christopher Y, 10, Victoria

I stared at it. That gap in the fence tormented me. Just my luck Mom bought this house. Why am I complaining? Mr Malgroot lives next door! He is the meanest man in the neighbourhood!

Once, my best friend dared me to go in the gap leading to his house. He promised he’d give me a nickel for my trouble. He’s a good friend, and even gave me the money upfront! Holding tight to the nickel in my hand, I crawled through the small gap in the fence. Unfortunately, Mr Malgroot caught me, and confiscated my money! All that, and I didn’t get anything!

I sighed. I had to dare myself to do it, and I would prevail. I crawled through the small gap in the fence.

And that explains why I’m in the hospital with a broken leg.

This is one of a selection of stories we are featuring from Carey Baptist Grammar School in Victoria over the next week. Tune in tomorrow for another great tale!

Posted in competitions

Spring 2011 writing competition – under 7s winner

Here is the winning Under 7s story from our spring 2011 writing competition.

A reminder: always check the rules of the competition. If you don’t stick to the rules, we have to disqualify your entry and that makes us sad!

Under 7s winner: M Williams (VIC)


Once upon a time there were three little wolves. Hotdog, Sticks and Woof.

One day, the three wolves left their mother’s house and set off to find somewhere to live.

Hotdog said, ‘I’ll use bread buns to build my house,’

Sticks said, ‘I’ll use carrots to build my house.’

And Woof said, ‘I’ll use bricks to build my house.’

In the town there lived a big bad pig. He was big and greedy and really starving.

Big Bad Pig saw Hotdog’s house of bread buns.

He yelled, ‘Little wolf, little wolf, let me in. Or I’ll eat your house down.’

‘Go away,’ said Hotdog.

So Big Bad Pig opened his mouth really wide and ate the house down until all that was left was the wolf.

‘Great,’ said Hotdog. ‘Now I’ve got nowhere to live.’


Big Bad Pig just walked off and went to the second wolf’s house.

He yelled, ‘Little wolf, little wolf, let me in. Or I’ll eat your house down.’

‘Go away, Pig,’ said Sticks.

So Big Bad Pig opened his big mouth really wide and ate the house down until all the was left was the wolf.

‘Great,’ said Sticks. ‘Now I’ve got nowhere to live.’


Big Bad Pig just walked off and went to the third wolf’s house.

He said, ‘Little wolf, little wolf, let me in. Or I’ll eat your house down.’

‘Go away Pig, you can’t eat bricks!’ said Woof.

‘Make a bet!’ said Big Bad Pig.

‘Go on then, ‘ said Woof.

So Big Bad Pig opened his mouth really wide and bit the house. And broke his tooth.

‘Owch!’ squealed Big Bad Pig. Then he took another bite. And broke another tooth.

‘Owch!’ he squealed again.

‘Told ya!’ said Woof.


Big Bad Pig was really angry. And he thought of a plan. He climbed up the house, and onto the roof and down the chimney.

But Woof was ready for him and lit a fire and cooked the big bad pig.


Woof’s brothers came over to Woof’s house and said, ‘What’s for dinner?’

And Woof answered, ‘Pig stew.’