Genevieve Chase 6/9/15

English Period 1

Introduction

Many times I have written stories, notes or paragraphs just for fun. Most of the time,

I didn’t like how they turned out. So I stopped writing and went into some different hobbies

such as drawing, music, reading, etc. And then we were asked to write a “Slice of Life”

paragraph (which is a long paragraph that has immense amounts of detail from a short

period of time). I was SO excited! I am a very detail-oriented person so I thought that this

would be the perfect thing to get me back into writing, and that it was. I chose the time that

I was looking around Old Navy with one of my friends. She actually already had bought the

object I wrote about long before we went to the store together, so it was an easy topic to

choose. The reason I chose this piece of writing rather than another, is because I feel that

being so detail-oriented is something to be proud of, or in other words, what I chose to

“show off”. Being a perfectionist is difficult because everything can and will annoy you. But

on the brighter side it helps me critique and perfect my art projects, making me feel better

about whatever I may have created.

Over all I enjoyed writing my Slice of Life paragraph, but there is always more I can

do to perfect it. I added even more detail to elongate it and provide even more

opportunities for the reader to get deeper into the experience of the situation. I find that

the more detail, the better. This is because detail really helps the reader visualize what’s

happening in the situation, and understand the feeling or feelings of the characters and

plot. Because the few minutes that I wrote about was so short, I didn’t really think that a

specific plot was necessary. I added more description and more feeling so that my writing

would seem more realistic to the reader. I debated for a long time whether or not to add

the names of the people in my writing, and decided against it. This is because the reader or

readers may not know the characters and their name would useless to the story, or readers

who know the people in my story may have opinions associated with that person that may

affect how they see my writing or react to it. The reason this took so much debate is

because the characters are real people, not someone I made up. I am hoping that my writing

will be enjoyable for all who decide to read it. I give you my thanks.



4/17/15

Old Navy Sneaker

At first I was just wandering around looking at the cracks in the concrete floor,

listening to the chatter and soft music, and breathing in the freshly-cleaned smell of the

store. And the I saw it. The heel was lined with white double stitching to hold the tiny blue

flower pattern to the edging. My eyes light up with curiosity and admiration for the design. I

notice the little divots and holes punched in the bright white rubber to let the thick thread

through. I flip the shoe in my hands and see the perfectly fitted tan rubber. I breath easy

noticing how well the white and medium tan of the bottom matchup. the bottom is a

criss-cross pattern, like little perfect diamonds cut in the bottom. I flip the shoe over again

and trace my fingers along the puffed cuff of the shoe noticing the little bit of white thread

showing where the fabric was stretched with stuffing, and the obtuse angle decline to the

laces. The holes are a dull grungy copper running almost to the toe. I can feel the rough

woven white laces, almost like sandpaper on my finger tips. I trace the cris-cross pattern until

I get to the toe were I notice small bits of rubber fraying off the edge where it was cut. I

show a slight smirk but feel a pang of annoyance, “why didn’t someone file this?” I think to

myself. A sudden burst of laughter from somewhere on my left takes my attention for a

moment until I realize it was just some teenagers messing around. I turn my attention back to

the sneaker. I bend down to examine the blue flower pattern, I can smell that signature “new

shoe” smell radiating off of it. There are tiny flowers scattered randomly in different lights

and darks of bright bleues, almost like splatter paint. Beauty out of chaos. I take a deep

breath and close my eyes, a good designer can always calm my mood. I shift my view to the

front of the shoe, watching the diamond pattern of the edge growing gradually larger as it

reaches the toe. I hear my name and look up almost startled, my friend is walking toward

something she wants me to see. I look back at the shoe and take one long last examination

before turning it in my hands and placing it back on the shelf, where it would stay until

another interested mind came along.

About the Author

I am an artist. Anything to do with art or music, I love. My name is Genevieve Noel

Chase and here is a bit about me. Being creative is my passion, I have always loved the arts

and have always been captured by the creativity of professional artists. I also am in love

with music. A capella is one of my favorite genres of all time. Pentatonix is in my opinion the

best a cappella group ever. They won a Grammy Award this year and have totally incredible

voices. And as my my art, my biggest inspirations come from www.tumblr.com. Tumblr is a

hipster social media and has wonderful ideas. My mind is constantly buzzing with some new

song or craft project idea. Maybe that yet another reason why I have such a hard time

focusing. Anyway everything I just explained is pretty much all I have done with my life. I

have a bold, loud and rebel personality, and a habit of rambling. So thanks for sticking with

me so far.

My English Class last year was just another class for me. Nothing special. Not to say

that I didn’t like it, My teacher had a fun personality and the students where/are my friends.

The projects where not my passion and that was ok, just like many other classes. Last year I

wasn’t a reader, at all. Books where not fascinating to me the same way as art or choir. The

main focus was reading, and it was hard for me. Then I started to realize that books where

kind of like movies, pictures in words. Once I started reading more often I began to enjoy

the experience more and more. Reading for class projects became easier and more

enjoyable. By the end of the year, I still wasn’t reading as much as I wanted to be but I’m

very thankful for my 6th grade English experience.

This year I became an avid reader, always wanting more. I am very thankful to my

teachers and peers who helped me excel in my English journey. This year was more focused

on writing. Writing was one of my hobbies at around my fourth grade year, but I soon

became wrapped up in other activities and forgot about my writing. I never expected that I

would publish my writing or enjoy the final product. But this year, I have. I feel that I have

excelled in vocabulary and effort. I try harder on my writing and actually want to show it. I

feel more confident and less worried about the outcome. I have learned how to enjoy

reading and writing, I feel capable of laughing at my mistakes. Reading and writing are now

a stress outlet for me, I enjoy them very much. The reasons I have improved are mostly just

peers different forms of optimism. I kept an open mind and thought of strategies to

improve my work. Again, I thank my peers and teachers for their very helpful support and

offer mine in return.

Slice of Life by Tony Kinchen

My name is Tony Kinchen and I go to dewitt middle school. As an english student i’ve always enjoyed it when we did story creating assignments. I enjoyed the fact that i could create a story in just a matter of minutes just by creating a fantasy world. I have enjoyed english this year because i learned new skills that can assist me in creating my own adventure stories.


Alpha Team

Prologue: Welcome to our lives


             Before I tell you this, you have to do something for me. You have to open your minds to the impossible. The reason I’m telling you this is because what I am about to tell you may seem somewhat as a sci fi adventure movie, but unfortunately its my life, our lives. Jack, Max, Ryla, and myself were not your typical teenagers. A scientific division in U.S.A’s biological weapons division genetically altered us to be used as biological warfare weapons, living weapons. Each of us were genetically changed so that are skin creates an armor stronger than titanium that gives us unreal abilities. We were each given a specific ability assigned to us based on our height, age, and blood type under the codename of “cyber soldiers”.
           Unfortunately, our armors are genetically grafted into us. If we try to separate ourselves from our armors it will be as trying to rip our skin off our flesh. We were each supposed to be sent to different parts of the U.S (Washington, Texas, Mexico you name it) to be used as a last resort to contain things normal police forces could not handle such as riots and revolts. A couple others including myself were deemed “successful” and were going to be shipped out as a new type of law enforcement in Mexico to keep riots from breaking out as they did over the discussion about the border control crisis. Luckily, though we escaped when a “failed experiment” created with a self-destruct feature spontaneously exploded. We managed to leave unnoticed but ever since we have had to deal with agents, generals, and scientist that either wanted to use us as weapons or experiments. However, they were nothing compared to Omega. In case you are wondering Omega is basically our hunter and were the prey. For every group of Alphas there was one Omega to keep them in check. After the factory explosion only one Omega remained operational and he was sent out by the agents to find everyone like us. I know what you are thinking “big deal one guy wants to capture you” but this is not a normal agent we can take in 2 minutes, he has armor that adapts to any cyber soldier he is sent after. Armor that is genetically grafted into his DNA just like ours.
             
         Now that I got that unpleasant business out of the way, let me tell you about my family. Jack goes to fast, literally he can go up to 475 miles a minute! He is 5 feet four inches 13 years old tan and extremely annoying (don't tell him I said that or I’ll never hear the end of it). Max is a young African boy the same height and age as Jack and is Jack's partner in crime. He can generate electronic shields that spring up on command and can be thrown as hand grenades. He mainly uses this ability to prank us and then uses the shields as protection from our wrath (literally), but in general their both good kids that look out for each other as brothers. Ryla is the same age as me and is 5 feet 4 inches has blackish brown hair and she is able to sense other living things life signature a mile away, if it was not for her we would have been caught by Omega or the Agents  a long time ago. Ryla and I are the oldest ones in the group and Jack and Max are the youngest ones in the group. We may all come from different pasts but we are all a family and we share the same future. Who am I you ask? My name is Jason I’m 6 feet 2 inches  16 years old and I am 15 times stronger than the strongest man in the world. Welcome to our lives!

Slice of Life by Anthony Walburger

Reflection And Conflict

This my final english project. I chose this because its my best writing in my opinion. This writing is a slice of life about Super Bowl 49 between the New England Patriots with Tom Brady, Rob Gronkowski and Julian Edelman and the Seattle Seahawks with Russell Wilson, Marshawn Lynch and Richard Sherman. This story is a awesome story so thats why I chose this over my NaNoWriMo. A example of my story was my reaction to this Super Bowl. I wanted to show off this masterpiece because I love football. Hope you enjoy this

                  

    The Super Bowl

We all stared at the big black rectangle hung within the wooden entertainment center. The football field was covered with players. The Seahawks wore a navy blue    and neon green jersey. The Patriots were wearing a white and silver jersey. We were already for the Seahawks to                      repeat Super Bowl Champions. There was a lot yelling  because It’s the Super Bowl. After that amazing come back for Seattle against the Green Bay Packers I had no doubt that we were going to win and the Patriots demolished the Colts. I could just almost feel the Lombardi Trophy. I could just taste sweet victory it was only 60 minutes away. I could just smell all the sweaty Seahawks players after they win. The game was on. All they way to the 4th quarter after the Patriots scored   Jermaine Kearse made a remarkable catch I was just jumping around in joy. My brother was just getting  frustrated even though he likes the Panthers. Then the biggest epic fail in super bowl history Russell Wilson                                                        throws a interception to Malcolm Butler on the one yard line first I’m like TOUCHDOWN then I’m like no interception. My brother is jumping up and down. I’m just crying so hard. I was still disappointed but then im like hey we were the won to go back to the Super Bowl since the 1997-1998 Green Bay Packers I'm said to myself it was a good season.   

About the Author

Hi my name is Anthony Walburger I wrote this story. I go to the best school ever called DeWitt Middle School in Ithaca New York. My teacher would describe me as a good student I describe myself as a ok student. As a student in general I really like to play football and watch the Seattle Seahawks. I would describe myself as a C student in English I think i am a B student. Based on my true colors I am an athlete. Improvements I made this year include being more organized. This is my final English project I will miss you all.

Ishan Ethridge 6/17/15

English Period 8

Context and Reflection

The piece I have chosen to revise was a slice of life I did a long time ago around the beginning of the school year.  this slice of life is about one of the greatest moments of my life which was hitting my first home run and why I chose it.  In this piece I will be showing my growth as a writer specifically in description words and vocabulary.  I tried to make the piece more exciting and visual allowing it to draw the reader in so without further ado here it is.

The Piece:

My First Home Run

The blazing sun sent multiple bright rays down practically piercing the car turning into a little red microwave.  My two other teammates Robbie and Felix were in the car on our way to syracuse for a double header against CNY red.  Halfway through was when the heat really hit us melting in the heat cramped in the little red car that barely could.   Some how we survived long enough to make it to the field but it wasn't at all what we expected.  The field looked as if it was part of the Alps, hills and valleys through the infield and outfield blanketed with bright green fields.  But this wasn't what really shocked us the most, what shocked us the most was the fence.  The fence was only one hundred fifty foot fence compared to a two hundred twenty foot fence but to compensate it was a towering twenty feet instead of a normal four feet.  

The game moved along slowly as each team lost energy almost being able to see the heat suck up all the fiery energy.  Teammates Ethan and Dom were on third and first base waiting for a base hit to move them around when our number four batter Felix came up to the plate.  Felix loaded pulling the bat back ready to swing when the ball came in.  He squared up and swung before you saw the ball you could hear it off the bat a loud crack ripping through the quiet atmosphere.  It wasn't so quiet for long as the team saw the ball carry over the fence screaming and yelling rushing to home ready to congratulate Felix.  

Next I was up still flowing with adrenaline ready just to really give the ball a pounding.  First pitch was outside but swung missing the bat carried me away from the ball jerking me across home plate.  I was getting a bit ahead of myself too eager to hit the ball so I take a big breath to gain back my composure.  I was ready my mind in complete zen ready to hit the ball.  The ball came in a bit high and right down the middle exactly how I like it.  I cocked the bat bringing it to my ear and pulling the bat down to greet the ball.  As soon as I made contact I knew it was a big hit so I just ran straight to first without hesitation.  About to round first I look over just in time to see the ball disappear over the towering fence trying to be humble and not screaming for joy until reaching home.  I slowed to a jog around the bases watching the teammates flood to home once again.  Jumping on the plate crowded by my teammates but over the screaming and yelling I thought to myself how happy I was to have hit a home run especially back to back ones with Felix.

About the Author

My name is Ishan Ethridge and I am currently in Mr. Scott’s 8th period english class.  Describing me as a student is pretty hard as I have changed throughout the year.  in the beginning of the year I worked constantly trying to get the best possible grade and working my butt off.  I was also a very productive worker not taking breaks or stopping just wanting to get a good grade and get it done.  Now I think English has made a big impact on my work habits.  I have learned to take my time and enjoy my work.  Overall the quality of my work has improved but as always I can go to greater lengths to improve my work.

Flynn McCarthy                                                                                                               6/18/15
Period 3                                                                                                                            English

                                                                      English Final

Context/Background

         This excerpt is from my Nanowrimo Stranded. This part takes place after the aircraft crashes and they're caught in the desert trying to find food. No one else is alive except for James and the protagonist. They're in an Arabian desert where it's over 105 degrees all the time.

Excerpt

         “Crunch, crunch, crunch” said the sand as I trudged through it. I was on a the quest for food. A chill went down my back as I thought of having to eat the dead passengers, but that was last resort. While I was sitting down with James talking about needing food, in the corner of my eye, I realized that there was a little dune to our right about two-hundred yards away. I was wondering what was on the other side and if there was food. But first, I thought, I need a weapon. That couldn’t be that hard I thought. All I had to do was find a sharp shard of the aircraft that had broken off and I would be able to use it was a knife. Well, I soon found out it wasn’t that easy to find a shard of aircraft the size of a knife or small sword. I spent forty five minutes in the burning hot sand trying to find a knife. At last I found one, I reached down to pick it up. “OWWWW” I yelped, the shard of metal was practically burning in this sun. I stood there for a second thinking of how to pick it up. Then I got an idea, I took off my shirt and rolled it around the shard, then grabbing it without letting it touch skin I walked all          
the back to our little shelter in the shade. I was going to find a shard and then go over the dune but since the shard was so hot I decided to go in the shade and cool the shard down. When I got back everything was the same and James was asleep. I knelt down in the shade a dug a little hole to the cool sand and then put the shard in and covered it. In about ten minutes I estimated it would be cool enough for me to go over the dune, and see what was on the other side. About five minutes into the wait for it to cool down, James woke up. He blinked a couple times, then he said “hey” in a low crackled voice. He coughed and let a little groan escape his lips. I asked “how are you feeling?” He took a couple seconds before answering and then said “my injuries are feeling better but my throat is dry as a bone.” I looked over and reached for the canteen. “It’s empty” said James as I picked it up. Sure enough it was light and definitely no water in it. I sighed  "I guess water is on the menu too." "Good luck" he said.

About the author

       This year I've grown as a author in many ways, but most of all, I let my imagination take over my writing. I think, it makes for a better story and it's more enjoyable for me and others to read. At the beginning  of  7th grade I was just a boring writer who didn't add any kind of excitement in my stories. But now, especially after the Nanowrimo experience really let me grow as a writer. Now, when I write a novel, I'm satisfied with the outcome. I enjoy writing in realistic fiction on the future. I find that I can let my imagination loose.

Slice of Life -Sophia Cooke

   Introduction to “Sprocket’s Adventure”

This piece is about when I traveled to Costa Rica over February break, and met the wonderful little neighborhood dog that we nicknamed “Sprocket”. I feel that this piece shows how I have learned to write stories about my real life that come more naturally, and are more in detail than they were last year. I chose this piece to show this specifically because I feel that they way in which I described Sprocket’s appearance and behavior especially shows my improvement in describing things in more depth. In the process of revising this piece, I added even more detail to the story overall, and extended the story to continue further into what happened while Sprocket was with us. I believe that this helped to add more context to the story, and to leave off on a more finished note. The revised ending of the story left off with the last time I saw him, thus it had more emotion than I had when it originally finished off, by the waterfall.

Sprocket’s Adventure

by Sophia Cooke

I pull open the cabin door to find a small scruffy little dog staring up at me. A smile comes across my face as I motion over the rest of my family to come see him. He seems to do a little dance as we admire him. He has an odd set of features, including pale yellow coarse fur, short stubby legs, and snaggle teeth. But this is somehow endearing on his small frame.

I step out of the door frame and kneel down to his level. His tiny tail flies back and forth through the air as I stroke his back. As I beam at him, I giggle at the thought that we have found multiple friendly stray dogs while on our trip to Costa Rica. We originally figured that he would only stay for a few minutes, then leave to visit the next customer at the Paraiso Quetzal Lodge. We decided to continue with our day and go on a hike. As we walked up the cement path to the trail beginning, we noticed through all the greenery surrounding us (which has now become normal to me) that the scrappy little dog still pranced happily around our feet.

We continued walking, still assuming he would eventually tire and turn around. As we wandered through the forest with the constant drone of insects in the background, the thousand year old trees, and slippery floors, we conversed about how delighted we were to have him joining us on our hike. Eventually he wandered off ahead, and as my normal self, I worried about him when he slipped out of our view. We decided that he had taken a turn back to the lodge, so we continued to marvel at the beauty of the forest. Soon enough we heard a rustling behind us and the dog came flying past us like a rocket, causing me to jump back a little. This caused my mom to decide on the name Sprocket for him, due to his scruffy appearance and rocket like entrances.

My family, Sprocket, and I continued descending down the long trail, until we came to a waterfall where we stopped to rest. As we sat to catch our breath, sprocket came prancing over and sat next to me. I ran my hand through his ragged fur, and he smiled back at me as if we had known each other forever. We continued the hike, and he stayed with us as we got lost, slowly descended the long repetitive and winding paths, and crossed over bridges. No matter how far we walked, it seemed his little spry legs would never tire, as he was the smallest one there, but had more energy than all of us combined. He continued to make exits and entrances, popping out of the bushes at the most unexpected moment. Once our three hour walk finally ended, we decided to go to the hummingbird garden in the Paraiso Quetzal Lodge. We watched all kinds of iridescent hummingbirds flutter around Sprocket, who casually wandered into the garden. He sat on a green platform overlooking the rest of the bungalows in the lodge, and sat there patiently waiting. My whole family eagerly awaited his return from the garden, but he seemed to never come. We had to go, so my parents convinced me that I would see him tomorrow, but in response I gently sighed knowing soon all I will have left of him is memories.

About the Author

Hello, my name is Sophia Cooke, and I am a student at DeWitt Middle School. As a student in general, I would consider myself to be an overachiever, although I am also a procrastinator, which creates many rushed and chaotic situations daily. In English this year, I have become a stronger writer through practice. From writing slices of life, to writing my novel in November, I have had many opportunities to develop my writing skills.  Last year in English, my writing lacked a certain flow, and was often very abrupt. I can see now looking back on this year, that my writing has become more fluent and complex. I think that I have improved greatly, and I can see this in my writing, specifically my more common usage of literary devices such as similes, and metaphors.

Liam Moore

Liam Moore            English 6-16-15           P.1

Part One Context And Reflection

For my exam I chose my book review that I did for Hatchet in the beginning of the year. I chose this piece because I knew that I could make it better then it was. The way I changed it was by correcting the grammar, and also used different words that fit better in the context.    

Part Two The Piece

Hatchet Book Review

Heart Attacks, Plane Crashes and Untrained Flying! What does this say to you? To me it says that Brian Robeson has gone through some very tough times high above the Adirondack Mountains. Hatchet is a book about Brian Robeson and the trip up to Canada to see his dad when it all goes south and Brian has to survive with just a hatchet that his mother gave him before his trip. Brian is a 13 or 14 year old boy who is trying to fly up to Canada to see his father but about halfway through his trip his pilot has a heart attack and Brian has to fly the plane down to a lake so he can relatively safely land the plane. After he does he finds out that he has close to nothing at all and that he will need to use his knowledge of nature and how to make a bow to keep him alive. Throughout the book Brian encounters multiple large animals such as, a very large moose that he has to remain calm and still in order to keep the moose from getting alerted but still ends up breaking his rib. He also encountered a very large brown bear when he found a berry bush that was filled with ripe berries and because he stayed calm and moved slow the bear wasn’t alerted and didn’t strike. All in all Brian has to use his knowledge of survival to keep him alive to go back home.

Part Three About The Author

Hi my name is Liam Moore I am a 7th grader in Mr. Scott’s 1st period english. I myself think that I have improved a lot as a writer because I have learned how to use certain words at the right time and also learning how to use different writers tools at the right time to make my writing better.

Zhaoran Chen

Reflection

Through the past year, I have changed my writing style a lot, improving and adding changes to what I thought was perfect, until I looked at it again and realized the mistakes I made. With much help from teachers, friends and my parents, I finally decided to publish this piece of writing that I chose from my Slices of Life. I chose this piece because it talks about an ordinary event that many people experience. This piece in particular demonstrated a lot of description, which in my point of view, was a great addition and showed the readers what was happening. I made several changes throughout this piece, namely, descriptions, similes and the general story plot. These changes made my piece better, and more interesting. Without further ado, my piece:

Extreme Boredom, Ponderings, and a Traitor

As I waited, I glanced down at my watch, beaming back at me like always. Tick- Tock. Eight -o-five. Eight-o-six. Eight-o-seven. It was late. I sighed. Every Thursday morning, I took the slow, custard yellow, germy, loud bus to school. It was always late. Soon I could hear the rumbling of the school bus bumping along the road. As it stopped, the engine whistled sleepily and then sighed, allowing us to step up the dirty stairs and find a seat. I trudged along the aisle, plopping down on a nearby seat and sighed again. As the bus started up, with a wheeze and a rumble, I stared outside the window, slumping deep into my coat due to the cold weather. The bus jostled down the road, as conversation began again. I looked at the outside scenery and shivered, watching the road slowly inch by, accompanied by a dull sky with storm clouds and a colorless void of grey trees and grass. Like Dorothy in Kansas, I thought, snorting. At least Dorothy had Toto. I would be alone until the next stop. I suddenly banged my head against the front of the bench in front of me and then jerked back. Here we go, the friend I have been waiting to talk to in order to pass the time- was not here. Perplexed, I leant back and watched the bus leave the stop behind. She said she was going to be here. Traitor. Brilliant, on the only day I have no book or phone, my friend decides to leave me stranded in this miserable jail cell, alone, cold, and bored, while she swiftly rides off in her car with her parents. Thanks alot, friend. This day was cursed. I watched houses, deer, trees pass by, a couple walking their dog, a chipmunk scampering along a fence, it’s sharp claws digging deep into the soggy wood. Lone birds flapped their wings against the prosaic sky. We rode along, with me cracking my knuckles and rolling my head slowly, trying to find something to do. I shuffled my feet tediously, putting my head in my hands as I counted seconds in my head. I checked my watch again. Only five minutes had passed. I tried thinking about philosophy and other things, like architecture, to keep me confused and continuously working my brain until we got to school, but all it did was to make me even more bored. Nothing could help me now. I am in an eternal tunnel of gloom. As I then pondered the meaning of dreams, memories, and nothingness, questions I had been curious about since I was 7, I furrowed my brow.

What, really, was nothing? What did it physically look like? “Nothing looks like nothing” was not really an acceptable answer. What would you do as an artist, to capture the true meaning of nothing? It simply cannot be black, nor white, as they are both colours. You cannot just not do anything, because what your artwork is on, is something. Perhaps if you vacuumed air out of an empty box, it could be nothing, though the box was something. It could be clear, though when one says that something is clear, they usually mean it is transparent so you can therefore see something on the other side, therefore making it something, not nothing. Empty space is nothing if it has air inside it. How, truly, could nothing be perceived as?

I soon became aware of a now pounding headache, something I could never get rid of when I was on a moving contraption. Ten more minutes of this and this bus will make me throw up. I rubbed my aching temples, and glanced back at my watch. Eight minutes had passed. Wow. I still had more than ten minutes to go, a headache, and virtually nothing to do at all. Looking back outside at the darkening clouds, I groaned lightly as I listened to people talking.

Two minutes passed. I grew weary of hearing about clothes and shopping and celebrities and toilets, so I sat, deep in thought, wondering how I would be able to fix my headache and manage not to puke in front of everyone. I succeeded and then, as I was on the verge of jumping up and wailing like a banshee in a mixer with a cat, we stopped. The bus shuddered, rocked, and then sighed. Seeing the hordes of people outside, I stood up, pulled on my backpack and adjusted my jacket. I stepped off the bus into the early morning air.

About the Author

My name is Zhaoran Chen, a “normal” seventh grader ( because everyone is different) attending Dewitt Middle School, and in Mr. Scott’s third period English class. I believe that compared to last year, my writing skills have improved. While last year I was using simple everyday language and lame repetition which was really cheesy, this year I am using figurative language which is…. somewhat better than before, or at least, I think so. My improvement is solely because of my teachers and reading a wide variety of books, looking at the technique they use and different plot twists. I cringed over cliche moments and yelled at annoying soppy phrases and trying not to use them, revised my pieces. Later on, I started to browse through actual good books, like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, a lot of Sherlock Holmes and Homer’s The Odyssey, trying to find techniques that worked for me and learning from the books. As the author for this piece, I would like to thank all previous dead and currently alive authors that have or had brilliant minds, their work still existing today, like Charles Dickens and Jane Austen, Donna Tartt, J.K.Rowling and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and acknowledge those who helped me, Mr. Scott, Ms. Sherman and my parents, and friends who have stuck with me and revised and suggested suggestions. Thank you all for helping me improve.

Valentino Cheek                                                                                                                                           English 

6/17/15                                                                                                                                                                Per. 3

English Final

Context

The excerpt you are about to read came from my nanowrimo story, which I did earlier this year. I chose this piece because it is one of my favorite parts of my story, but I felt that some of the sentences seemed kind of awkward and badly worded. I also I hope you enjoy.

Excerpt

They took off headed back to Earth. It had been a surprising trip but the surprises were just beginning. When they got back to Earth they gave the information about the alien and materials that were in the ship to the scientists at the military school, as they would more easily recognize weaponry if the aliens were hostile. The information and materials would then be moved to biological scientists and then to technology experts. Albert left and went with the scientists, while the rest of group went with Mike to train.

They started a simulator, which made enemies that were similar in size and had similar weaponry. It was hard in the simulator, which discouraged the group because the simulator is usually harder than real life. They also trained with the alien weapons, which had a little bit more power than their guns, but they had a slow rate of fire and less accuracy.

The Alien basically had armor built into it. Its skin was so thick, it could stop a .50 caliber bullet. The most incredible adaptation was the organs being able to survive the pressure of deep open space. All in all they were sort of superhuman figures that were surprisingly humanoid-like. Its body was familiar yet alien. The muscles were similarly shaped and positioned but yet stronger. The body shape was more curved and the head had a long mane-like piece of muscle that extended almost 3 feet. On the elbows there were a similar pieces of muscle but theses were sharp and bony. They could cut through thin steel and carbon fiber the could stop a low caliber bullet.

“The technology is amazing and so is the Alien all by itself!”admonished the Lead council member to Mike. “If we could learn how to build technology that small with that amount of power, technology on Earth would jump ahead decades!”

“It’s amazing, but what if the Aliens are hostile or there is another species that was hunting them?” asked Mike hypothetically. “The one Alien we have could take out an entire marine squad and still be able to take out another dozen before going down, and that's with no armor! If they have armor like ours or even personal shields one Alien could take out hundreds of our men.”

“Then develop our own tech based off of their weapons and other tech to make our personal shields and stronger armor!” the leader exclaimed. “Do whatever it takes to be ready for anything they might be able to throw at us.”

“We’ve already made copies of the guns, but we can’t make enough for the entire army. The materials are very costly and each takes at least a week even in the best engineers hands,” explained Mike.

“Build an assembly line with robots who are designed perfectly to build the weapons faster,” ordered The Leader.

“I’ll get right on it,” Mike responded.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Hello, my name is Valentino Cheek. I enjoy reading, playing sports such as hockey and golf, and playing video games. I really like to read sci-fi and comedy. A few of my favorite authors are Tom Clancy (Rainbow Six), Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game), and Douglas Adam (A Hitchhiker's Guide To the Galaxy).  I feel that I’ve improved greatly from sixth grade. I’ve learned more about how to cite my work, make better intros and conclusions, and apply better descriptions. I want to thank my teachers and I hope you enjoyed the writing.

Final Exam Nanowrimo

Julia Amos

Period 8

6/18/15

English

Context and Reflection

For my final exam, I decided to revise a piece of my Nanowrimo story, which is from the point of view of a cat. I chose to use this piece because it had a lot of GUMS errors and had room for improvement (I kept messing up the point of view), and hopefully all of that is fixed now.

The Piece

The next morning Katlyn awoke to the heavy tapping of rain on the window. She looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning. She stretched out and hopped down the stairs to the kitchen. The lack of noise confused her, as normally Mrs.Constance-Marie would be running around, making food for herself.

    Right as she stepped off the last step, her stomach turned. Mrs.Constance-Marie was on the floor, her arms over her stomach. A bowl of sick was next to her and she groaned, leaning over it. Horrified, Katlyn ran into the kitchen and dragged a bowl of soup off the counter over to her.

    “Thank you, Katlyn. I’ll be fine. Now go outside and chase some birds or something,” the old woman whispered.

    Trusting her owner, Katlyn pushed open the door and walked out. The horrid smell was back, and with it the man in the giant truck. Not wanting to see him again, she walked the other way towards the park by the end of the road. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a squirrel. Distracting herself from the truck, she slowly turned toward it and hunched down. Every few seconds she would take a step closer to it, hoping that the gray fur ball would be hers for the taking. A second later, Katlyn saw the squirrel turn away from her and look at the tree, so she took her chance. She pounced reaching her long claws out to it and she felt fur under her as she landed. The creature squirmed but she dug her claws into it, making it squeak. After a few more frantic seconds, it stopped moving.

    She walked back to her front porch, triumphantly holding her prize between her teeth. This was the first catch she had made in about three weeks. Katlyn slowly got up and pushed the door open with her head. Her owner was still sitting in the same place, but now pointing to the television.

 About The Author
I am Julia Amos, a 7th grader on the Fire Ants team at Dewitt Middle School.  I have definitely improved my writing a lot since last year. In 6th grade I could only use basic vocabulary and had poor grammar, whereas this year I have learned a lot more vocabulary and I’m better at using figurative language. I have also improved on not switching between past and present tense or first and third person.