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Post by Alcyone on Sept 14, 2007 15:53:17 GMT -5
For the first lesson, I want to see at what level everyone is and plan other classes accordingly. So we're starting with descriptions. Post your paragraphs here. I'll correct them. If you'd like me to comment in private, tell me so I can PM you instead.
Descriptions are something every writer relies on. Why? The job of the writer is to paint a picture using only words. To ensure that the reader sees the image clearly, the writer must be able to express themselves clearly. This involves proper spelling (a lot is different from allot in both spelling and definition), grammar (a comma after Tommy in the sentence "Tommy, the traitor escaped" makes the meaning of the sentence vastly different from "Tommy the traitor escaped") and correct word choice (Sara walked inside. Sara swaggered inside. Sara ventured inside. They all mean Sara came in the room but the image each paints of how Sara came into the room is different in each).
So, you will write a short paragraph describing a tree. Sounds easy, right? Here's the difficult part. I must be able to imagine your tree easily after reading your paragraph.
To do this, use metaphors, similes, personification, hyperbole--all these are tools a writer uses to get a point across. Don't start every sentence with same word or phrase. variation is the spice of writing. And refrain from using the same words over and over. I love thesauruses; I use them constantly. Dictionaries are also great.
FYI, I hate, hate, hate the words nice, pretty, a lot, sweet, evil (unless used properly) and a few others I can't remember right now. They're overused. So if you'd like to keep your professor sane, don't turn in a paragraph that says, "The tree is very pretty. It has nice shade. It has a lot of pretty leaves. It protects sweet animals from the evilness of the sun's heat."
For example, here's my description:
It was a massive, old thing, its trunk gnarled and knotted. The roots jutted out of the ground like tentacles, thick enough to sit on. Its branches twisted and entwined around each other, straining to the sun. A bitter wind howled through the branches, stripping them of the few brown leaves left. Without its green cover, the tree looked oddly naked yet harder and vaguely ominous.
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Post by Lon-Dubh on Oct 31, 2007 17:10:17 GMT -5
The rustling, russet leaves of the slender young willow waved in the gentle breeze. The first, delicate blooms of jade leaves clung precariously to waving boughs, a testament to the freshness of spring in the air. Though the delicate thing appeared as if it would wither in the first icy touches of winter, the sapling held a certain air about its slender, waving braches that belayed its soft appearance, holding the promise to flourish in years to come.
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Post by lifeslittletwist on Nov 3, 2007 19:46:40 GMT -5
The wind chilled me through my jacket as I came upon this tree. It was about twice my size in height and encased with a jagged armor of bark. Plenty of gratitude should be awarded to autumn for endowing the tree with a medley of vivacious red and waning green leaves that gracefully complemented the russet suit of armor. I spotted a branch low to the ground that promised a placid sanctuary. Walking towards the tree, the only sound that could be heard was the crunching of leaves. Before I sat down, a redolent scent overwhelmed me. I lifted my head to uncover fresh, ripe apples everywhere. I stumbled a few steps back for appreciation and respect flooded me. This tree offered everything I needed at the moment -- a secluded haven to rest and to reflect. Not to mention, the few pearly butterflies fluttering around gave the area a hallucinatory appearance. Mostly, the apples sparked my mind with a clutter of ruminations. While catering me with a delectable treat, the apples induced my reflection to start with the idea of sin. Before I embarked on my meditation, I gave thanks for this tree. It appeared to have suffered through centuries, and for that it deserved respect. Resolutely, I closed the distance between myself and the tree. I reached for a forbidden fruit, and sat upon my chosen branch. The apple was easily accessible through the array of branches, and warranted to be a satisfying indulgence. The autumn day seemed to be on to an encouraging start as I took the first bite.
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Post by Alcyone on Nov 25, 2007 20:41:55 GMT -5
My comments are in cyan. Mistakes are crossed out and colored Palegreen with their correction next to them. Suggestions or notes are gold and have a star (*) after them while the comments are at the end.The rustling, russet leaves of the slender young willow waved in the gentle breeze. The first, delicate blooms of jade leaves clung precariously to waving boughs, a testament to the freshness of spring in the air. Though the delicate thing appeared as if it would wither in the first icy touches of winter, the sapling held a certain air about its slender, waving braches that belayed* its soft appearance, holding the promise to flourish in years to come. Very vivid imagery, wonderful descriptions. I noticed but one thing and that was “belayed”. The correct verb there would have been “belied”.The wind chilled me through my jacket as I came upon this tree. It was about twice my size in height ( Unnecessary, the reader will understand it refers to height) and encased with* a jagged armor of bark. Plenty of gratitude should be ( should have been) awarded to autumn for endowing the tree with a medley of vivacious red and waning green leaves that gracefully complemented the russet suit of armor. I spotted a branch low to the ground that promised a placid sanctuary. Walking towards the tree, the only sound that could be heard was the crunching of leaves. Before I sat down, a redolent scent overwhelmed me. I lifted my head to uncover fresh, ripe apples everywhere. I stumbled a few steps back for ( in) appreciation and respect flooded me. This tree offered everything I needed at the moment -- a secluded haven to rest and to reflect. Not to mention, the few pearly butterflies fluttering around gave the area a hallucinatory** appearance. Mostly, the apples sparked my mind with (Unnecessary. Makes it sound a bit cluttered) a clutter of ruminations. While catering me with a delectable treat, the apples induced my reflection to start with the idea of sin. Before I embarked on my meditation, I gave thanks for this tree. It appeared to have suffered through centuries, and for that it deserved respect. Resolutely, I closed the distance between myself and the tree. I reached for a forbidden fruit, and sat upon my chosen branch. The apple was easily accessible through the array of branches, and warranted to be a satisfying indulgence. The autumn day seemed to be on to an encouraging start as I took the first bite. *with-I would suggest changing to within. “With” takes away from the sentence when you see it paired with a verb like “encase”. Anything encased must be inside so within, inside, etc.
Be-Careful with verb tenses. If you started in past tense, keep to past tense. In this case “should have been” would have been the correct verb group.
**Careful with synonyms. Hallucinatory expresses the effect you wanted but in a more negative tone. Hallucinations evoke negative connotations. Fantastic, magical, dreamy, ethereal are all synonyms that could work well with the selection.
In terms of description, it was well done. The imagery was vivid. Just be careful with word choice; keep practicing and you’ll smooth it over. 
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Post by lifeslittletwist on Dec 2, 2007 17:02:37 GMT -5
Thank you so much for the critique!
I realize now my mistake in choosing words. After I wrote this, my English teacher went over connotations and denotations and it makes more sense now. I'm really looking forward to this class, so that my writing shall improve. Thank you for setting this class up.
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Post by Marcus on Mar 22, 2008 15:58:03 GMT -5
the tree was old, and angry it's roots ran deep in to the grown draining it of all life and it's branches soared high to plunge the world beneath into shadow. Like playing God it towered over the active and did not stray in time's of war, in time of death. It's bark was hard and old like stone the deep cracks like wrinkles on the elderly. at it's base lied only the refinance of lost friends and lovers of the young and foolish who dared to compete with it for life and with the stain of death in its vines it turned it in to something hard and assertive it did not worry about the effect of time it was old and wise, it was immortal.
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Post by sam on Mar 29, 2008 20:47:12 GMT -5
I gazed above at the towering ancient tree that appeared to have gone through a drastic hurricane. The branches of the tree stretched outwardly twisted, swaying towards the slightest movement, defining its impeccable age. I studied the marvelous tree on a closer inspection, noticing that the bark was tattered, yet very smooth. This tree held so many secrets of time that I desired to know. The roots of the tree I could feel under my feet gave me an unbalanced traipse as I walked towards the immense tree. I had not taken notice to the width of the tree until I stood beside it, feeling very, very small. The leaves on this tree crinckled when the wind blew like they were whispering something so precious to the wind that the ancient tree should not know. I stared idly at the tree with such wonder I began to forget about time, life, everything besides the perpetual life of this tree that danced whenever the sun rose or sang whenever the wind blew. The night carried me away into my dreams while the ethereal tree that stood anciently before me caressed my head.
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Post by topazoronyx on Jun 16, 2008 12:59:24 GMT -5
Gold tinted leaves softly fluttered to the frozen autumn ground, settling into the dust gathered around the roots of the giant maple, which towered over simply everything. A branch, snapped in half by a vicious storm, grazed the ground, dangling from the tree. I gathered my jacket closer, making it hug my body snugly. Still, I shivered with the icy breeze blowing my hair back. A crack of thunder could be heard, its deep rumbled echoing off of the mountains. Suddenly a drizzle of rain fell from the sky, its size growing as seconds passed, soon the droplets were cascading down in sheets, pounding on my head. Rushing for the safety of my house, I saw a bolt of lightning from my porch, not even a full second later thunder bellowed. I remembered as a child my mother had told me about how the longer thunder waited after lightning, the further away it was. Another bolt shook me out of my reverie, and the maple burst into flames which were slowly extinguished by the falling rain. Lon after the rain had stopped I ventured back under the open sky, and toward the maple. A jagged, angry line marred the bark, black as the smoke that had drifted through the rain. A hint of the maples inner color peeked through the black, and I ran my finger down its surface. "Amazing..." I murmured, seeing how that quick flash of fiery light had marked the tree. it would probably never fully heal.
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Post by Edwards gf on Sept 6, 2008 21:22:42 GMT -5
This tree, this extrodenary tree, that I had my gaze upon sent unbeliviable chills down my spine. It looked so lonely as I studyed it: no leaves, no friends to compare it to: poor thing standing alone in a field fit for a horror movie. It's first branch was about 15 feet high, and the branch it self was lonely, no life scurried or nested there. It was as if the animals sensed that there was some reason for this tree that was far too beyond the means of helping to support life. It's trunk was in knots, twisting and turning, as if it was also trying to unroot itself from the ground to sprint away from the eery vibe it sent around. I sat and rested in the field, for this tree did not scare me, no, I felt much like that tree myself. And I laughed at the thought that people would be frightened because they are also like the tree at times, left unwanted, irritated, strange, and mysterious.
Sorry, i kinda got carried away but that is why i'm here. I'm only in middle school and I gotta a lot to learn. So teach me, please. lolz ;D
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Post by aaa11 on Sept 29, 2008 1:00:14 GMT -5
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Post by ~**Courynne**~ on Oct 19, 2008 5:11:36 GMT -5
A long thick trunk blossomed out of the ground, the bark withered away from age. Out of this trunk, branches stuck out in every direction. Each leave at the end of these delecate branches were different shades of golden-brown. The wind blew gentely and the leaves russled, some falling beautifully to the ground to lay still. Another gust of wind blew and the crisp leaves on the soil flew swiftly in the wind, landing out in the meadows on the dew covered grass.
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The truth is stranger than fiction.
