Original Paragraph:
2) The Blond Guitar by Jeremy Burden
My most valuable possession is an old, slightly warped blond guitar--the first instrument I taught myself how to play. It's nothing fancy, just a Madeira folk guitar, all scuffed and scratched and finger-printed. At the top is a bramble of copper-wound strings, each one hooked through the eye of a silver tuning key. The strings are stretched down a long, slim neck, its frets tarnished, the wood worn by years of fingers pressing chords and picking notes. The body of the Madeira is shaped like an enormous yellow pear, one that was slightly damaged in shipping. The blond wood has been chipped and gouged to gray, particularly where the pick guard fell off years ago. No, it's not a beautiful instrument, but it still lets me make music, and for that I will always treasure it.
Now I will write my own descriptive paragraph:
One of the more fun things to do at my house is to immerse myself in the beautiful song "My Life" by Billy Joel on my beloved piano. My piano is nothing fancy, not a grand or baby grand, although I can wish, right? It still doesn't matter to me what shape or how good it is, as long as I can play and enjoy music. I love the songs and my piano.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
A McKettrick Christmas
Original Paragraph:
The man across the aisle from her laid down his newspaper, stood and stretched. He'd boarded the train several hours earlier, in Phoenix, carrying what looked like a doctor's bag, it's leather sides cracked and scratched. His waistcoat was clean but threadbare, and he wore neither a hat nor a sidearm-the absence of both unusual in the still-wild Arizona Territory.
Now I am going to write this with some vocabulary and comments.
The stately man across the aisle from her laid down his newspaper, stood and stretched. He'd boarded the lofty train several hours earlier, in Phoenix, carrying what looked quite frankly like a doctor's bag, it's leather sided cracked and scratched. His waistcoat was clean but threadbare, and he wore neither a hat nor a sidearm-the absence of both unusual in the still-wild Arizona Territory.
I think this man sounds very mysterious in a way that he's clean but he's also poor. Also, later on on the page, it says that he was very good looking, so he's pretty interesting.
red words are vocabulary words
The man across the aisle from her laid down his newspaper, stood and stretched. He'd boarded the train several hours earlier, in Phoenix, carrying what looked like a doctor's bag, it's leather sides cracked and scratched. His waistcoat was clean but threadbare, and he wore neither a hat nor a sidearm-the absence of both unusual in the still-wild Arizona Territory.
Now I am going to write this with some vocabulary and comments.
The stately man across the aisle from her laid down his newspaper, stood and stretched. He'd boarded the lofty train several hours earlier, in Phoenix, carrying what looked quite frankly like a doctor's bag, it's leather sided cracked and scratched. His waistcoat was clean but threadbare, and he wore neither a hat nor a sidearm-the absence of both unusual in the still-wild Arizona Territory.
I think this man sounds very mysterious in a way that he's clean but he's also poor. Also, later on on the page, it says that he was very good looking, so he's pretty interesting.
red words are vocabulary words
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Minpins
Original Paragraph:
Little Billy's mother was always telling him exactly what he was allowed to do and what he was not allowed to do. All the things he was allowed to do were boring. All the things he was not allowed to do were exciting. One of the things he was NEVER NEVER allowed to do, the most exciting of them all, was to go out through the garden gate all by himself and explore the world beyond.
Now I am going to re-write a few of the sentences and make some comments on the writing style of this paragraph:
Little Billy's mother, a thin woman with a grouchy attitude, was always telling him what he was allowed to do and what he was not allowed to do.
Bored stiff and full of curiosity, Billy wanted to go through the garden gate.
Billy, whose mother was always telling him what to do, was aching for some exitement.
I personally think that this paragraph had so many repeats that it was almost boring, like the writer didn't know what to do. (It's called a filler. I think.)
Red:Participial Phrase
Blue:Prepositional Phrase
Orange:Absolute Phrase
Green: Adjectival Clause
Little Billy's mother was always telling him exactly what he was allowed to do and what he was not allowed to do. All the things he was allowed to do were boring. All the things he was not allowed to do were exciting. One of the things he was NEVER NEVER allowed to do, the most exciting of them all, was to go out through the garden gate all by himself and explore the world beyond.
Now I am going to re-write a few of the sentences and make some comments on the writing style of this paragraph:
Little Billy's mother, a thin woman with a grouchy attitude, was always telling him what he was allowed to do and what he was not allowed to do.
Bored stiff and full of curiosity, Billy wanted to go through the garden gate.
Billy, whose mother was always telling him what to do, was aching for some exitement.
I personally think that this paragraph had so many repeats that it was almost boring, like the writer didn't know what to do. (It's called a filler. I think.)
Red:Participial Phrase
Blue:Prepositional Phrase
Orange:Absolute Phrase
Green: Adjectival Clause
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Eclipse
Original Paragraph:
I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this-scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting, slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hand; that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I'd been there, I might have laughed. Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jacob, I would have told him. Just spit it out.
-Stephenie Meyer
Now I am going to re-write some of the sentences in this passage:
Sentence 3: Jacob with the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead, was very easy to imagine.
Sentence 2: A rough, very big man, Jacob snapped the pen between his fingers while writing.
Red: Appositive Phrase
Green: Participal Phrase
Blue: Absolute Phrase
Orange: Prepositional Phrase
I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this-scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting, slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hand; that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I'd been there, I might have laughed. Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jacob, I would have told him. Just spit it out.
-Stephenie Meyer
Now I am going to re-write some of the sentences in this passage:
Sentence 3: Jacob with the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead, was very easy to imagine.
Sentence 2: A rough, very big man, Jacob snapped the pen between his fingers while writing.
Red: Appositive Phrase
Green: Participal Phrase
Blue: Absolute Phrase
Orange: Prepositional Phrase
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