Creative Writing Samples for a Job Submission
(The following was a submission for a game-writing job a a big company that I applied to at the end of July. They have since ghosted me, so I wanted to post my submission on my website. Job hunting sucks. I posted this as private to my website on July 25th, a few days after my submission. It officially went public on August 31st.
The submission required at least 10 pages of mostly dialogue or dialogue-related storytelling. I made 3 separate excerpts. Two of them were story concepts I wanted to try and write out as short stories later.)
Ernest is dead and found himself in the underworld. Unaccustomed to dead-life, he goes to an employment agency to figure out what to do. Penny is the agent he was assigned. The scene takes place in Penny’s office. Ernest is a very generic-looking guy, and Penny appears to be a young 30-something office worker.
Penny: Okay, kid. What can I do ya’ for?
Ernest: I don’t know. I guess a job?
Penny: Sure, but what kind of job do you want?
Ernest: I don’t really know… I mean, before THIS, I was just a delivery driver. I don’t really have any skills outside of customer service, I started on a college degr-
Penny: Hang on a second, kid. You do realize you’re dead, right? Like, you have infinite time now to do anything. Most people don’t even bother finding a job for the first hundred or so years until the boredom of doing nothing starts to set in.
Ernest: …
Penny: You can literally do whatever you want down here, and if you don’t already know how to do it, you can go study it for however long you want. You don’t have to worry about money, you don’t have to worry about debt, or rent, or going hungry…. Hey, kid. You listening?
Ernest seems a little dumbfounded still
Ernest: Yeah, yeah. Sorry. This whole thing is just weird to me. I kind of thought the afterlife was supposed to be all like fire and brimstone. You know, people being boiled alive, or tortured by demons or something.
Penny: Oh, you mean Hell? Is that where you want to go? I can arrange that for you if you want. Just be warned, they don’t really let people back out once you go there. It’s a part of their regional policy.
Ernest: Their regional policy?
Penny: Oh, yes. There’s lots of regions in the Underworld: Hell, Heaven, Valhalla, Hades, Yomi, that weird beer volcano the Pastafarians came up with. People get sorted into whatever afterlife best fits their needs. If it doesn’t exist, they get to make it, and people who fit the same way end up joining them. Most people stay within their regions, but you can travel between a few of them.
Ernest: Well, then, where exactly am I?
Penny: You’re in quadrant C-72 of Agnostic Afterlife. We’re one of the bigger regions. Most people who don’t devote themselves to a religion or lifestyle end up here.
Ernest: Ah. I uh… I see. Sorry for changing the topic so much, but what kind of jobs do most people do down here? Maybe I should just start in something common.
Penny: Porn.
Ernest: What?!
Penny: Porn. When you don’t have expenses to pay, you can do just about whatever you want. A lot of people like getting naked and getting busy with each other. If that’s not to your liking you can do other art-adjacent stuff like creative writing, poetry, painting, comic making… the list goes on, kid. Really, most people just end up going through all the things they wish they could have done when they were alive.
Ernest: I’m not really a creative kind of person… Maybe there’s something else?
Penny: Well, plastic surgeon is a pretty popular job. Lot of people want to change their look when they come down here. Everyone always enters in at whatever age the died, so you get a lot of old people who want to go back to how they looked in their prime, some people just want to be something else. We got a lot of Denzel Washingtons and Chris Evans running around.
Ernest: I guess. Yeah, if it helps other people, that’s probably the best thing for me to do. Sure.
Penny: Okay, kid. Well, you’ll need to do some studying and practice for a few years since you don’t have any experience, but you can take your time with it. I can get you signed up with a college here to help you get your medical degree and whatnot. Are you sure?
Ernest: Not really, but what else is there for me to do? How long does it take to learn all that stuff?
Penny: However long you need. It takes most people well over 10 years for a medical degree from scratch in the living world, but in the afterlife there’s a few other precautions.
Ernest: What kind of precautions?
Penny: Well, they have to know for sure that you’ll do a good job, and I’m not just talking about a botched nose. If someone in the afterlife dies then they really are gone. There’s nowhere left to go after here, and the for the surgeon that kills them, you get sent to the farthest reaches of whatever hellscape you’re assigned to.
Ernest: …
Penny: You know, kid. I’ve been doing all the talking. Why don’t you tell me about yourself, and why you’re even here? I can recommend things for the next 3 months, but it doesn’t matter if it’s not what you actually want to do.
Ernest: Well, I woke up and some guy told me I was dead and offered to take me to my new home. He gave me the key, and this weird flier that just says “Hey, you’re dead. Enjoy your afterlife,” and I just didn’t know what to do. I saw my neighbor outside my house, and she told me to come here for help. I just can’t really process any of it.
Penny: Your name?
Ernest: Huh?
Penny: What’s your name, kid? I can’t even start a file for you without a name.
Ernest: Oh! It’s Ernest Ableway.
Penny: Okay, Ernest. Let’s start with what you like. It doesn’t really matter what you’re good or bad at. Like I said, you’ve got all the time in the world down here.
Ernest: Well, I like listening to music.
Penny: Okay, good start. What kind?
Ernest: Mostly metal or rock, whatever’s popular in those genres.
Penny: So… do you want to be a musician? A singer?
Ernest: Oh! No! No! No! I just like listening to music. I tried to play guitar in high school and hated it. Ended up slicing my finger on the strings. Didn’t realize you needed a pick to play. Hated it ever since.
Penny: Okay, no music jobs. Is there anything you REALLY wanted to do but maybe didn’t have the money or know-how to start doing?
Ernest: Mmmmmm…. Not really. I kinda’ just went with the flow. I had to focus on paying rent and my loans.
Penny: Oh yeah! You said you were working on a degree before you died! What was that in, you could keep doing that!
Ernest: Radiology, but it was kind of for the money. It’s the best degree you could get at the community college where I’m from. I’m sorry I’m not much help. I’m kind of just a boring blank slate. All I was doing when I was alive was what I needed to do to stay alive. Most of that was just what other people told me to do.
Penny is a little lost in thought, but breaks her own silence.
Penny: You know what, Ernest? I think you should just go back home for now, spend a few days thinking about what it is you want to do with your afterlife, and then come see me again. I can’t really help you if you don’t have any ideas about what you want to do or where you want to go already. And don’t worry about a thing. You quite literally have all the time in the universe to figure out how you want to enjoy yourself.
The bold-italicized text in this example is meant to be the player-character’s (Emily’s) narrated thoughts. The idea was to make something closer to what ________ has worked on, although the execution here is a bit closer to Japanese-style adventures.
We arrived at the park just before dusk, with the sun just barely peaking over the riverside. Aster and I walked over to the roped-off area where the corpse was found. As we approached the yellow-black zebra-striped barrier, a portly police officer shuffled up to us.
Officer: Ah, Detective Crowler. It’s always lovely to see you. I guess the chief called you in. And, uh, who’s that with you?
Aster: Her? That’s my new assistant. I figured we could use today’s little incident as an on-site training of sorts.
Officer: … Yes, of course. Well, please. Follow me.
The stout officer led us a bit further back through the park towards the riverwalk. It was eerily quiet. I guess I’m just used to seeing this place be livelier in the evenings. You’d think a murder or corpse would have more people trying to sneak a peek, but people in this town seem to keep their distance from trouble. The officer began briefing Aster and me while we walked.
Officer: The victim was one of the evening-shift security guards. It was a jogger who found him at 3:30 PM this afternoon. We figured he’d been murder during his shift and just left where he was killed. A lot of people don’t really use this route after that little incident.
Emily: Uhm, excuse me, sir. What incident is that?
Officer: Oh my, you don’t know? All the weird rumors and what not tend to be pretty popular in this little town.
Emily: I’m not from here, sir. I just moved to Arbor Hill in the past year.
Officer: Oh, I see. Well, about 3 years ago a couple of joggers were assaulted on this path late at night. Nice pair of girls they were, one worked at the library, and other was student at the university. Really close to each other, I heard. But, on that one particular night they were attacked. One of them was found dead in the river near the bridge. The other one had been beaten so badly she needed to go to the hospital, but then she up and vanished a few days after being discharged. Eventually a rumor started going around that they angered a river spirit or something and it claimed them both.
Aster: That’s the dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard.
Officer: Never said I believed it, but enough people here are superstitious for it to have become a bit of a local legend. I guess it doesn’t come up much since most people don’t jog on this side of the river.
We arrived at the scene no sooner shortly after the officer had finished his story. The sun was almost completely down, with a scant bit of daylight mixed in with the encroaching night sky. There was an awful smell in the air. There was a papermill in the city that left a noticeable “musk” for those not accustomed to it, but it felt stronger and nastier today.
Aster walked up to the body and motioned me over.
Aster: Okay, Emily. Tell me what stands out to you about this guy. I can spot a few key things.
Emily: I’m supposed to be your secretary, not your investigative assistant.
Aster: Yeah, well, learning new skills will look good on a resume.
(In this instance, the game would change to a still shot of the victim, with the player finding key areas of interest on the body. The points can be found in any particular order. After finding the main key points, the story will continue)
[Inspect the collarbone]
Emily: Well, the area below his neck really stands out. It looks like someone dug into his skin so hard that it left a very visible imprint.
Aster: Good catch! That’s probably the most noticeable thing. Yeah, it looks like someone clawed into his collarbone pretty hard. But there doesn’t appear to be any damage to his bone structure. But for something to have the strength to pull his flesh out like that seems pretty unbelievable, right? Also, his shirt is unbuttoned a bit at the top.
Aster calls the officer who guided us over to the body
Officer: Did you need something, Detective Crowler?
Aster: Yeah, did you guys unbutton this man’s shirt?
Officer: Oh no! It was like that when we found him, Detective.
Aster: I see. Thanks. You can go back to whatever you were doing.
Emily: Does it matter if his shirt was unbuttoned?
Aster: You don’t think it’s odd his shirt is seemingly undamaged? If his shirt was buttoned up when he was attacked, then it would probably be torn or warped also. That’s just my observation, though.
[Inspect mouth/eyes]
Emily: His tongue is discolored. It’s purple. / His eyes have a foggy discoloration to them.
Aster: Cyanosis. It happens when red blood cells are unable to carry oxygen to a part of the body. Most people commonly experience it in their feet if they kneel down for too long, but our victim has noticeable signs of it on multiple parts of his body. It probably means he was asphyxiated.
Emily: So, someone strangled him to death?
Aster: Maybe? We’d need an actual autopsy on him to be sure. His tongue is purple, and the veins in his eyes are a muddy gray. There’s no clear sign of damage on his throat though. If you’re going to strangle someone to death like this, then there’d be signs his windpipe was broken, like fingerprints or rope burns directly over his throat. For all we know, he might have just had a kink for strangulation.
Emily: What an… acute observation.
Aster: Look, I’m not shaming the guy. I’m just giving you an explanation. Unless you can tell me why it looks like he’s been strangled without the key sign of strangulation.
[Inspect weapon]
Emily: His gun is still in its holster.
Aster: Weird choice, but okay. Also, I think it’s a taser. Park security doesn’t get to hold fire arms.
Emily: Okay, sure. But if this guy was getting attacked, shouldn’t he have had time to use his taser.
Aster: Not necessarily. If he was jumped from behind, then whoever got him could have done so without retaliation. Also, our guard here isn’t exactly in the prime of his life. It’s possible he just couldn’t grab the thing before he died.
Emily: There’s other signs on the body that point to him being assaulted from the front. Couldn’t he have drawn his weapon then?
Aster: Maybe he didn’t feel threatened? It’s hard to believe, but there’s probably 1 or 2 officers out there that don’t shoot first and ask questions later.
(After all the key spots have been found, the officer from before will approach or speak up, depending on what option was picked last)
Officer: Are you finished yet, Detective Crowler? We’d like to get the body off for an autopsy. The chief had it left out here until after you’d had a chance to look at it.
Aster: Yeah. I think we’ve seen everything worth seeing, but I do have a few questions. Namely, why call me up? Chief Steele doesn’t exactly like me, from what I remember.
Officer: This case seems to fall under your special jurisdiction. We couldn’t find any physical damage to the body other than his upturned skin. Seems kind of ghostly to me. Isn’t that your specialty? All that supernatural hoo-ha?
Aster: Supernatural hoo-ha, huh? Sure. One more, then. Who is this guy? I’m not really familiar with my park security officers.
Officer: Oh! This is, er… was, Alexander Hatchette. He’s been the guard here for a while now, at least 2 and half years or so. He used to be a regular officer, but decided to swap over to park security. The guy before him got spooked with all the spirit rumors and what not. Hatchette said he’d rather deal with spirits than the stress of real criminals. He was pretty well-liked by the higherups, so they processed his transfer without any issue.
Aster: Well, you don’t say. You can cart him off now. I’ve seen everything I needed to. Just get me a copy of the autopsy when it’s ready. Have my contracting fee sent with it as well.
Aster drove us back to the office. He had a bit of a grin forming on his face the whole ride back. The sun had now fully set, but Aster said he would pay overtime for whatever hours I was kept. It was oddly generous of him, but I’d never seen him in this sort of upbeat mood he had going.
Aster: So, what do you think? I want to see if my protégé has been able to piece anything together before we start digging further.
Emily: Piece together what? I told you he was probably strangled and you ruled it out.
Aster: I ruled out him being strangled through conventional means, but not the act entirely.
Emily: What are you talking about, sir?
Aster: What if I told you those ghost rumors were true, just a little misguided.
Emily: So, what? There really is some kind of spirit living in that lake that drowns anyone near it?
Aster: Not exactly. The first murder, the one from three years ago, was definitely done by a living human being. I remember the story pretty well now that it’s been jogged in my mind. I’m sure we have a few newspaper clippings about it in one of the files on the wall.
Emily: Okay. I’m still only kind of following this.
Aster: Ghosts, demons, the occult, it’s all real Emily, and this town is rife with it.
Emily: Is it some kind of open secret then?
Aster: No, not really. Most people are like you, either ignorant to it, or just don’t care. However, my agency, or I guess my previous partner’s agency is called in anytime there’s an unexplainable case. You saw that man’s corpse. No human or animal could contort a man’s flesh in that way.
Emily: I’m sorry if I sound like a skeptic, but it’s hard to believe things like ghosts are actually real and not just scary stories.
Aster: You don’t have to be a believer. If anything, I’m just glad you humored me. Right now though, I’d like to find more leads. The police aren’t very keen on sharing information with me, so I thought we could start by looking into that case from 3 years ago.
Emily: Actually, sir, it’s getting kind of late. I’d like to go home while there’s still people walking out and about outside.
Aster: That’s fine. I’m going to stay here and see what I can dig up then. Make sure you arrive on-time tomorrow, we’ll probably need to question some people.
The following are a series of notes a player would find in an adventure game similar to classic survival horror titles. The setting is an old hotel located well away from the rest of society.
[Bellhop’s Diary 1]
I get to start my new job today! Mr. Ronny was very accommodating to me, taking me in without so much as an I.D. or a penny to my name. I left my hometown so long ago to try and make it better somewhere else. I just felt like there was nothing for me back on the farm my parents worked at. I hope they’re doing fine, too. One less mouth to feed probably makes expenses easier for them.
I’ve tried writing to them, but never seem to get return letters. Mr. Ronny said this place is so far away from the post office that a lot of mail tends to get lost or just isn’t delivered.
That aside, it’s really nice here. Mr. Ronny has rooms in the hotel squared off for staff so they don’t have to waste time driving into work. Fully furnished, and we get free roam of the kitchen after guest dining hours. I don’t think there’s much else a simple guy like me could ask for. I’m looking forward to building up a bit of a nest egg for myself and then hitting the road again in a year or so.
[Bellhop’s Diary 2]
I’ve been here for a week now, and am finally starting to get the hang of things around here. My job’s not too difficult, I just guide guests up to their rooms and carry whatever possessions they have. Mr. Ronny told me not to worry about people who are checking out, that’s been his duty for so long that he takes pride in doing it himself. Come to think of it though, I’ve never actually seen anyone leave.
I did have one mishap this week, though. There are 3 elevators on the first floor, but the one on the far right isn’t supposed to be used. I almost took a guest on it, and Mr. Ronny threw quite a fit before getting us resituated. He told me later that that particular elevator only goes down to the basement, and he and a few other staffers are the only ones allowed to use it. I apologized, and said I wouldn’t make that mistake again, but now I’m curious. Surely seeing the basement isn’t THAT serious.
[Bellhop’s Diary 3]
It’s been several months since I started and that damn elevator is still bugging me. I’ve never actually seen anyone use it, and I’m wondering if it even works at all. I mean, it has to, right? Mr. Ronny does such a nice job of keeping the rest of this hotel looking clean and operating without fault, but maybe there’s something that keeps that elevator unused.
I tried asking Carrie at the front deck if she knew anything. She’s been here way longer than I have, so she must know something. She just blew me off in her very blunt style. She’s always seemed a little on edge, that one. Not angry or anything, just a little violent. Don’t know why Mr. Ronny keeps her around. Maybe she’s in the same kind of predicament as me, just looking for a way to make ends meet while hoping for something better?
[Bellhop’s Diary 4]
I’ve decided I’m going to take the elevator myself tonight. The suspense and mystery of it all has been killing me for such a long time now. I’ve tried confronting Mr. Ronny more than one time about the whole thing over the past several days and he kept turning me down.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re the bellhop, just make check-in as pleasant as possible for the guests.”
“I already said it’s not something to concern yourself with. It’s just a dusty old basement where we keep seasonal decorations.”
“If you keep harassing me or the other staff over this, I’ll have to let you go.”
But that’s it. I’m going in myself.
It looks like everyone is asleep by midnight or so, at least that’s when the lights in the lobby go off. I’ll be making my excursion soon, after I’ve done a bit more snooping to make sure the coast is actually clear at those times.
[Carrie’s Dairy 1]
Ron hired a new guy today, and I haven’t got a clue as to why. Most of the staff here have been around forever, and we’ve always managed just fine. I guess Ron just took pity on the on the poor man, and wanted to give him some hope about his future.
No real interesting guests today though, unless you count the new hire.
[Carrie’s Diary 2]
We had a lot of kids check-in today. They’re always cute, but a bit bothersome to deal with. They almost always show up with toys or dolls. I had to instruct the bellhop not to take them from the kids, even if part of his job is about carrying our guests’ stuff up to their lodgings for them.
Sometimes the kids come running in well before their parents, and sometimes they come after. I really wish they’d all just stay together; it would make my job easier. It’s hard to get little children to write their names in the ledger, and that’s assuming they even can write.
[Carrie’s Diary 3]
That damn bellhop has really been pushing on my nerves the past few days. He made a slipup his first week and wouldn’t let it go after Ron corrected him.
He kept asking me about the service elevator at the end of the hall, and I told him it doesn’t go to anywhere important. He wouldn’t believe me, and kept harassing me till I snapped back at him.
I’ve also had to start keeping the guest ledger closed and behind the desk now. He keeps trying to peer over at it occasionally. I don’t know why, but it’s making me restless. We sometimes get high-profile people in here, and I’d rather they not end up getting harassed by some rando Ron hired off the street.
I’m going to have to talk to Ron about all this.
[Ripped page from the guest ledger]
It looks like a piece of paper from a guest ledger. Some parts are ripped and hard to read.
| Name | Check-In | Personal Effects | Check-Out |
| Patricia Stark | 7/12 11:24 AM | Emerald Necklace | |
| Emmet Herst | 7/12 3:05 PM | None | 7/1- |
| Johnny Marks | 7/12 4:25 PM | Wa- | |
| Cassandra Monroe | 7/13 9:42 AM | Rosary | |
| Ashton Monroe | 7/13 9:45 AM | Business Briefcase | |
| Gerald Thomas | 7/13 12:36 PM | None | 7/22 |
| Thomas Blanken | 7/13 3:25 PM | The Painter on His Way to Work | 7- |
| Sally Monroe | 8:05 PM | Mr. Bear | |
| Gerald Borscht | 7/16 8:25 PM | Family portrait | |
| Daniel Crestfell | 7/20 9:00 AM | ||
| Ardy McFree | 7/2- |
[Posted Notice to All Staff]
To All Staffers,
Ron said we’d be getting a rather important guest this evening, and that he will be handling the check-in himself. If you see him walking with a customer at around 3 this afternoon, don’t bother them. It’s very rare for us to get guests like this, but just let Ron do his thing and stick to your posts.
Thanks,
-Carrie
[Guest Diary Page]
I have no clue where we are, but Ashton assured me we’d be fine. He talked to the manager about something, and they seemed to hit it off. Ashton never mentioned a place like this on our business-vacation, but he assured me he just needed a spot to rest for the night, and we’d be back out tomorrow.
I don’t know how he can be so calm! Sally went missing, and I haven’t seen her at all. I can’t even remember when last I saw her, it’s got me ready to break down. I told Ashton we need to call the police and he phoned the front desk. They’re apparently on it, but I can’t sit still knowing my baby’s out there all alone. We’ve lost out only daughter out in the middle of nowhere and he’s just calmly sitting by the phone and reading the paper. It infuriates me. I’m about ready to go down to the front office and give them a piece of my mind!