Young Writers Society

an extremely short review:
first of all, i loved that this was from the perspective of something inanimate- i once read a book written in the pov of a tree and this reminded me of it. i loved the ending- it could definitely go into a sequel if you want to write that.
critiques-
the main criticism i have is that everything seemed very expected. you have a very creative premise with a lot of potential, but the plot/content was slightly lacking. since you’re trying to write something creepy, adding a few suspicious details or anything plot twists would spice it up a little. for example- the beginning, the founding of the school seemed very typical. the reader needs a reason to care about the school in the first place to be concerned about its fate, so giving the school more unique qualities or backstory would add a lot.
overall, i loved this piece!

The above essay tells the story of a school that was built with the intention of providing free education to children from all socio-economic backgrounds. The school is depicted as a place of great significance in the community, with its founding Headmaster playing a central role in the development of the town.

As the essay progresses, it becomes clear that the school has undergone a significant decline, with fewer and fewer students attending and the building falling into disrepair. Despite this, the essay ultimately portrays the school as a symbol of the enduring values of generosity and community that it helped to cultivate.

Through its depiction of the school's rise and fall, the essay ultimately highlights the importance of education in fostering personal and community growth, as well as the potential for such growth to be disrupted by societal changes. The essay's themes of nostalgia and loss are evocatively conveyed through its use of language and imagery, painting a poignant portrait of a once-thriving institution that has been left to fade into obscurity.

Here are some possible pros or positive aspects of the essay that you provided:

1.The essay tells a compelling and emotive story of a school and its role in the community.
2.The essay effectively conveys themes of education, community, and loss through its use of language and imagery.
3.The essay highlights the enduring values of generosity and community that the school helped to cultivate.
4.The essay touches on the importance of education in fostering personal and community growth.

Overall, the essay presents a thought-provoking and poignant exploration of the role of education in shaping both individual lives and the communities in which they exist.

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: Ooooh this is not an idea I think I've ever actually seen before, and it really does seem quite interesting. I think this take on it manages to land really powerfully and even in this short space we find ourselves celebrating the highs of this school and mourning its downfall perhaps because it manages to feel so relatable somehow.

Anyway let's get right to it,

I was conceived as an idea - a place where children of people from all walks of life could study, for free. In those days, people were poor but kind, simple but pragmatic, illiterate but curious. And thus, a public trust was created to build me.

In 1926, a small shrub forest beside a tiny village was cleared to build my foundations and I was built up within a year. I had all the amenities of that era - benches and inkstands, chalks and blackboards, and a concrete building. The chief of the village was my Headmaster and the most learned of the village were my teachers.

Even before I was a month old - my grounds and classrooms roared with the jolly cacophony of rosy village children. They flocked about the trees in my playground, studied under my roof in my classrooms, and returned home with their parents before sunset. Uniforms were presented to those who couldn’t afford them, mid-day meals were distributed to all who were hungry, and books were donated to those who desired to study.

Thus passed several decades, and the children and the village grew with me. The toddlers became adults and became successful individuals in their lives and some even decided to join me as teachers. I grew taller too - I became a two-storeyed building after a generous donation from one of my former students. The village became a small town, with its own municipality, headed by my Headmaster and my students - and I regard that as the greatest accomplishment of my life.

In 1960, my Headmaster passed away. It was a mournful day, and hundreds of former students, teachers, and townspeople came to pay homage to my founder, and the following week was declared a mourning week. Since then, things had started to change. Several more schools had been set up in the town and I noticed that, slowly, my grounds had started to lose students and my rooms had less noise. The childish cacophony that perforated me had slowly transformed into a solemn symphony. In 1992, there remained only a hundred students - I was dying.

Today, only the sound of silence reverberates in my once-clamorous classroomsl shrubs and trees entomb the once-enlivened halls and grounds; cracks and damps defile and define the now-desolate me. The municipality that I helped build now marks me as a dangerous building. The town that I helped prosper now views me as a part of antiquity. I lie alone, waiting for my death, with fond memories of what I helped achieve. Perhaps, even today, if one asks an old man of the town about me, one might hear from him, “Ah… that old school…”