IGCSE/GCSE/O & A Level/IB/University Student Forum
Qualification => Subject Doubts => IGCSE/ GCSE => Languages => Topic started by: Galleria on October 09, 2010, 05:16:02 pm
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LOL hi,
I'm kind of wondering how much you people would grade on this descriptive essay.
M/J 2010, Paper 3, Variant 1.
3 A.
Gloom
_______________
As I carried my school bag and walked along the street of Aldale, I couldn’t help but see the dark colour on the horizon emerging towards me. The darkness was imbuing the sky of purple and orange hues that created tapestries so gorgeous that anyone could just lie watching it, contemplating on the dirty ground.
But, this couldn’t have been done that day. Something had begun to permeate and taint. Something marred the beauty of dusk and had started to rumble and “anomalize” the aesthetic nature of the sky.
Suddenly, it felt cold and the street was isolated, except a few cars that rushed here and there, accelerating and giving me a blow of smoke from time to time. I mused at the sky intermittently and every passing second, it got closer. And closer. So close that now, I felt a drop of water trickle down my face.
I knew that it would soon get damp so I started to pace. Drops of rain had already begun to fall, mizzling as I felt them hit me lightly and sporadically. I opened the zip of my bag and rummaged for an umbrella, but alas, to no avail.
I felt terrible – yes, terrible. For two reasons, that is. One because my mother would kill me for not taking an umbrella to school and two, for getting wet, as I am, to some extent a bit hydrophobic (I’m not implying that I don’t shower). Well, anyway, by now, I could hear affrighting bellows from the clouds and felt panic-struck.
I started to run. But then stopped. “What if I slip?”, I thought to myself. No. I couldn’t do it. So, I walked faster and put on the cap of my hood. Now, it was pelting and I was wet – completely soaked from top to bottom.
So then, I gave up. I knew I couldn’t reach home soon enough and fortunately found a shop. I stayed there until the storm abated into a gentle, serene breeze and darkness swung to a beautiful sky of twinkling stars with the glimmering moon.
Well, that beautiful moment took two and a half hours and my mother was furious to see her daughter wet. I changed quickly, and leaped inside the warm fuzzy bed and entered the world of dreams.
The following morning, when I woke up, the first thing I did was twitch my nose(involuntarily) and gave off a large sound after tilting my head back a little and powerfully swinging forth with a wet feeling. The sneeze was the antecedent for my absence in school for a week.
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17/25
-> You've used bombastic and flamboyant language without purpose and hence, sometimes used it out of context or incorrectly. E.g. I couldn’t help but see the dark colour on the horizon emerging towards me (it is inaccurate to say something is emerging toward another. Emerge is almost always used in the context of 'emerge from xyz', because plants don't grow to the sky, they grow from the ground. Exceptions not considered. Also, though insignificant, develop a habit of using 'toward', 'afterward', etc, since 'towards' is actually a colloquial term.)
-> Disruptive use of language. E.g. One because my mother would kill me (Firstly, 'one because' is not a logical phrase. It should either be 'the first one being that' or 'one: my mother', etc. Also, where you're using formal and florid language, 'my mother would kill me' is not appropriate. The narrative is disrupted because of this incorrect usage.)
-> Lack of fluency in script. E.g. I started to run. But then stopped. “What if I slip?”, I thought to myself. No. I couldn’t do it. So, I walked faster and put on the cap of my hood. Now, it was pelting and I was wet – completely soaked from top to bottom. (There is absolutely no fluidity in reading this entire paragraph. I pause at the wrong points and there is no connection between the sentences.)
I have not given many other examples and corrections on purpose, because if you grasp the flaws I've detected, you yourself will be able to evaluate your script.
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ohhh ok :O . thanks!
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loool i didn't think of 'emerging' that way but the othersss yeaaah , i thought they were mistakes too . lol
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Re.do :
Gloom
_______________
As I carried my school bag and walked along the street of Aldale, I couldn’t help but see the dark colour on the horizon emerging. The darkness was imbuing the sky of purple and orange hues that created tapestries so gorgeous that anyone could just lie watching it, contemplating on the dirty ground.
But, this couldn’t have been done that day. Something had begun to permeate and taint. Something marred the beauty of dusk and had started to rumble and “anomalize” the aesthetic nature of the sky.
Suddenly, it felt cold and the street was isolated, except a few cars that rushed here and there, accelerating and giving me a blow of smoke from time to time. I mused at the sky intermittently and every passing second, it got closer. And closer. So close that now, I felt a drop of water trickle down my face.
I knew that it would soon get damp so I started to pace. Drops of rain had already begun to fall, mizzling as I felt them hit me lightly and sporadically. I opened the zip of my bag and rummaged for an umbrella, but alas, to no avail.
I felt terrible – yes, terrible. For two reasons, that is. One: my mother would kill me for not taking an umbrella to school. Two: for getting wet, as I am, to some extent a bit hydrophobic (I’m not implying that I don’t shower). Well, anyway, by now, I could hear affrighting bellows from the clouds and felt panic-struck.
I started to run but then quickly stopped. “What if I slip?”, I thought to myself. No. I couldn’t do it. So, instead, I decided to stride, with my hood covering my head from the rain.
The effort was useless by now. It had started to pelt and I was wet – completely soaked from top to bottom.
So then, I gave up. I knew I couldn’t reach home soon enough and fortunately found a shop. I stayed there until the storm abated into a gentle, serene breeze and darkness swung to a beautiful sky of twinkling stars with the glimmering moon.
Well, that beautiful moment took two and a half hours and my mother was furious to see her daughter wet. I changed quickly, and leaped inside the warm fuzzy bed and entered the world of dreams.
The following morning, when I woke up, the first thing I did was twitch my nose(involuntarily) and gave off a large sound after tilting my head back a little and powerfully swinging forth with a wet feeling. The sneeze was the antecedent for my absence in school for a week.
nowww ?
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BAND 2! - 18 Marks ;D
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LOL I SUCK THEN :D
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AND OMG
WHY IS EVERYONE STRICT WITH MARKS ? I WANNA SEE A PIECE THAT GETS 22/23 ON THIS OR ANY OTHER ESSAY!!!!
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AND OMG
WHY IS EVERYONE STRICT WITH MARKS ? I WANNA SEE A PIECE THAT GETS 22/23 ON THIS OR ANY OTHER ESSAY!!!!
I'll post mine. wait.
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The Librarian!
As I push open the oak wood door, I am overcome by a tidal wave of cold air stemming from the antiquated air conditioning system affixed on the wall. As I shut the door, softly, behind me, I am greeted by a monstrosity. Seated on a tall mauve chair, like a griffin ready to pounce, is Ms. Maria, the librarian. Her thick black spectacles serve to only intensify her cold, icy gaze. Her black, beady eyes examine me carefully; waiting for a chance to accost me for disturbing the peace.
In a few, quick strides I walk over to her desk. Mountains of tattered books cover the varnished surface of her desk. I begin to perspire as I nervously ask, “Where is the history section ?” I brace myself for an interminable wave of shouting from this pudgy woman who has a reputation for being a strict martinet. With a quick nod of her head, she motions to the right.
As I move past her, I notice she is dressed in a black and white chequered dress; her wiry grey hair falls quite ungracefully on her shoulders. I pick my book and move to reading section.
I sit down and notice a Sixth Form student hunched over a massive chemistry textbook. Twirling a pen with his fingers he seems engrossed in the book. His thick wavy hair extends to his shoulders where it transforms into a long pony tail. My pristine white shirt cannot compare to his ‘uniform’. His shirt is decorated with a myriad of coloured spots; some quite big. His maroon tie hangs low from his neck and his collar button is open.
Even though it is a cool twenty degrees, he is sweating profusely; overcome with the intent desire to memorise the ionic equations before him. He looks hurriedly at the burnished Godfather Clock and resumes his studying. Quite evidently he is overcome with frustration; his face is contorted into a mask of worry.
I turn my head to see my mathematics teacher engaged in a hushed conversation with a student. Gesticulating wildly with her hands, she seems to be berating the boy. He looks sullen and his pale countenance evokes a sense of pity within me. His smoothly gelled back black hair and tattered uniform tell me he must be quite the troublemaker. With his hands together he seems to be imploring the teacher for something.
With a quick rearrangement of her sari, (which happens to be a bright saffron and white colour) she pushes the chair back and strides out of the library. The boy is left behind, his mouth agape; a truly shell shocked look on his face.
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The Librarian!
As I push open the oak wood door, I am overcome by a tidal wave of cold air stemming from the antiquated air conditioning system affixed on the wall. As I shut the door, softly, behind me, I am greeted by a monstrosity. Seated on a tall mauve chair, like a griffin ready to pounce, is Ms. Maria, the librarian. Her thick black spectacles serve to only intensify her cold, icy gaze. Her black, beady eyes examine me carefully; waiting for a chance to accost me for disturbing the peace.
In a few, quick strides I walk over to her desk. Mountains of tattered books cover the varnished surface of her desk. I begin to perspire as I nervously ask, “Where is the history section ?” I brace myself for an interminable wave of shouting from this pudgy woman who has a reputation for being a strict martinet. With a quick nod of her head, she motions to the right.
As I move past her, I notice she is dressed in a black and white chequered dress; her wiry grey hair falls quite ungracefully on her shoulders. I pick my book and move to reading section.
I sit down and notice a Sixth Form student hunched over a massive chemistry textbook. Twirling a pen with his fingers he seems engrossed in the book. His thick wavy hair extends to his shoulders where it transforms into a long pony tail. My pristine white shirt cannot compare to his ‘uniform’. His shirt is decorated with a myriad of coloured spots; some quite big. His maroon tie hangs low from his neck and his collar button is open.
Even though it is a cool twenty degrees, he is sweating profusely; overcome with the intent desire to memorise the ionic equations before him. He looks hurriedly at the burnished Godfather Clock and resumes his studying. Quite evidently he is overcome with frustration; his face is contorted into a mask of worry.
I turn my head to see my mathematics teacher engaged in a hushed conversation with a student. Gesticulating wildly with her hands, she seems to be berating the boy. He looks sullen and his pale countenance evokes a sense of pity within me. His smoothly gelled back black hair and tattered uniform tell me he must be quite the troublemaker. With his hands together he seems to be imploring the teacher for something.
With a quick rearrangement of her sari, (which happens to be a bright saffron and white colour) she pushes the chair back and strides out of the library. The boy is left behind, his mouth agape; a truly shell shocked look on his face.
Spell that properly, :P.
This I read some...somewher...ahh!! That Newsletter! :P
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Spell that properly, :P.
This I read some...somewher...ahh!! That Newsletter! :P
It is spelt properly. ::)
Yeah, that was my contribution to the newsletter.
This is an original work BY ME !
444 words in total and took me around 45-50 minutes to write.
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I give you 22 marks., be happy. :D
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newsletter ? i'd love to read that .
AND OMFG . THAT'S AMAZING . HOW CAN YOU WRITE LIKE THAT ? I SOUND LIKE A GOAT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!
:(
DAAAAAMN .MY EXAMS IN NOV AND IM NOT PREPARED FOR ENGLISH AT ALL !!! :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'(
HOW DO I WRITE DESCRIPTIVES LIKES THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT ?
I'M DEAD
BYE BYE A*
:( :( :(
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newsletter ? i'd love to read that .
AND OMFG . THAT'S AMAZING . HOW CAN YOU WRITE LIKE THAT ? I SOUND LIKE A GOAT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!
:(
DAAAAAMN .MY EXAMS IN NOV AND IM NOT PREPARED FOR ENGLISH AT ALL !!! :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'(
HOW DO I WRITE DESCRIPTIVES LIKES THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT ?
I'M DEAD
BYE BYE A*
:( :( :(
Don't lose hope, lose your all grades except A*.
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newsletter ? i'd love to read that .
AND OMFG . THAT'S AMAZING . HOW CAN YOU WRITE LIKE THAT ? I SOUND LIKE A GOAT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!
:(
DAAAAAMN .MY EXAMS IN NOV AND IM NOT PREPARED FOR ENGLISH AT ALL !!! :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'( :'(
HOW DO I WRITE DESCRIPTIVES LIKES THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT ?
I'M DEAD
BYE BYE A*
:( :( :(
Your vocabulary is good and your plot is simple (which is good). The reason you should keep your plot simple is so that you can develop on it more easily.
Try adding some flavour to it. I can see from your writing you feel a certain disconnect with the topic.
I suggest trying the Narrative piece. For my IGCSE exam (I answered in 2010) I wrote about an Afghani villager whose home and family had been eliminated by the Taliban and how she was trying to get across the border to safety in Pakistan.
I concentrated in the story more on her escape to Pakistan but I also threw in some flashbacks (vital for a top grade)
My ending was a bit emo, but hey :P
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Also try this : write about a male character at times instead of only a female (you're a girl, right ? :P )
When writing about the opposite sex it tends to generate more creativity and your imagination can run wild ;)
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LOL . Yeah but idk if i candle narratives very well. it usually starts so simple at times and goes to bullshitting . lol
seeeend me your work plssss ? i could adapt to your language . :D .
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LOL wiiild ?
i dont want the examiner to think my story is vile!!! lol
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Your vocabulary is good and your plot is simple (which is good). The reason you should keep your plot simple is so that you can develop on it more easily.
Try adding some flavour to it. I can see from your writing you feel a certain disconnect with the topic.
I suggest trying the Narrative piece. For my IGCSE exam (I answered in 2010) I wrote about an Afghani villager whose home and family had been eliminated by the Taliban and how she was trying to get across the border to safety in Pakistan.
I concentrated in the story more on her escape to Pakistan but I also threw in some flashbacks (vital for a top grade)
My ending was a bit emo, but hey :P
ahha!! I answered the same question in IGCSE..:D :D
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lol i saw that topic and got bored in class
id rather do an argumentative
ohhh
what do you think of this ?
did it last year but its better than what i write now -__-
To what extent do you agree that students should speak English at all times in secondary schools?
The mother tongue, an identifier of one’s nativity, is possibly the most imperative way for anyone to react and converse with their country’s people. However, since English has become the most widely used and renowned language throughout the world, it induces the use of the mother tongue for students in secondary schools rather idler and English more applied or persuaded for use. Nonetheless, this does not happen at a steady level at any secondary school, due to the fact that more of the students that go there are attached to their mother tongue, and make less use of English.
When taking up an example of a country with secondary schools that bears speaking English at all times as a rigid rule, China is very well noted. It’s not that hard to locate students in such schools whining and yammering about the difficulty of English and how their preference leans on their mother tongue. This is actually not right, and students do need to take up a habit of learning English with intrigue, as in the current state of the world, proper English can drive them to be more successful in the future.
Besides that, English can also drive students away from their mother tongue. English is genuinely a very influential language and when children, adolescents as well as adults become adept or at least adapted to it, a tendency of finding their own mother tongue boring and tedious can be observed. We can take up the example of Rato Bangala School in Nepal itself, where students apply the use of their mother tongue very well verbally but find writing and working with it very annoying and unendurable. This is one notable disadvantage the strictness of speaking English in secondary schools creates.
Now, when being succinct with the above details of speaking English at all times in secondary schools, we can infer it to be a rather good idea. Of course it isn’t impeccable, as the mother tongue is equally crucial to be learned and applied, but if students in secondary schools find it difficult to deal with English or like themselves dealing with their mother tongue and English verbally, then why not make the use of English embedded with extreme strictness during school hours? This could help them develop it further very well or at least give them a very good gist of idea on becoming an average English speaking person, helping them embark on a productive future career.
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LOL wiiild ?
i dont want the examiner to think my story is vile!!! lol
OMG !! Not in that sense ::) Ooof....
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theeen what do you mean ? lol
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what do you think of this?
i wrote it when i was bored
PURELY FICTIONAL
Goodbye, best friend
I love you.
I love you in a million different ways. I love the way you look down at me and smile, and how your eyes get crinkly around the edges. I love your smile. I love your hair, even after you’ve cut it yourself, so that you look like someone attacked you with shears.
But mostly, I love you for you.
I know you, you see, from the way you think to the way you act. I can tell when you’re breaking inside, even when you try to act like you’re fine. I recognize the way your forehead creases when you don’t understand something, and how your eyes light up after you suddenly understand.
I love you because you’re so smart, and yet too obtuse to understand what all my phone calls mean, and all the times I’ve lend you a shoulder to cry on. All the times I’ve told you not to worry, because I was there, and I’d always be there.
You didn’t believe me at the time, but I’ve stayed with you. Sometimes I see you looking at me with half appraised eyes, wondering, out of all your “best friends” and girlfriends through the ages, how I’d been the one to stay. And just before I get nervous, wondering if you’ll finally realize that I love you, you heave a sigh, and silently thank god for this twist of fate.
But it wasn’t fate. It was me.
You’ll never know of all that I’ve been through for your sake. You don’t let me make sacrifices, so I don’t let you realize the battles I’ve fought, and the chances I’ve given up. People might call this futile, and say that I’ve wasted my life, but it’s not true. Because somewhere along the line, you’ve started to love me too. You’ve held me in your arms when I’ve cried, and you tell me all your thoughts and desires. I’m like a part of you, and I know that you’d be lost without me.
Oh no, not as a lover…never as a lover. The thought has never even crossed your mind. Your face is easier to read that anything else in the world, and trust me, if you’ve entertained the thought, even for a second, I’d have known.
You think that I’m too fussy and that I’ve got commitment issues. That I’ve got the image of the perfect guy in my head and that if I only relaxed, and accepted life as it came, I’d be happy. But tell me, how can I possibly fall for someone else when I see you every day?
I don’t know whether life would’ve been better for me, if we’d never met, or if I would have been able to move on, had I the strength to leave. Sometimes I wish that I had, in fact, left, so that today perhaps I’d be living a life of my own, unfettered by a useless unreturned passion that refuses to die out. But it’s too late to try to start now, so I guess I’m destined to spend my life by your side, never more than a best friend.
It’s been so long, but I still get nervous when you’re around, my fingers still tremble at your accidental touch, and though I know you inside out, I’d still love for nothing more than to be yours. It’s not the useless infatuation of youth, fueled by nothing more than excitement, and no, I don’t get weak-kneed every-time we talk. It’s more of a mental attraction, a soul attraction, a relationship that will withstand time and space. It sounds cheesy, like those teen-flicks that were so popular back in high-school, but it’s true. I’d know.
I love you so much, that I’ve never let you know how I really feel about you. I’ve buried this secret deep within me, so that you’ll never guess. Its gut piercing, this ache that refuses to go away. It’s become a part of me, and with the passage of time, it’s gotten better, until I hardly realize its there. Sometimes, yes, the hopelessness of it all rises, and there are plenty of nights when I fall asleep exhausted, after crying my eyes out, but mostly, I’m fine, and it’s honestly worth it.
I love you so much, that seven years ago, I watched you walk down the aisle with her. Even now, I can recall with vivid clarity, how you smiled at her, and put on her finger the ring that I helped you choose. You were radiant; the happiest I’ve ever seen you, in all the years I’ve known you. I ignored the pain, and smiled for you, tears of joy streaming down my face as you stooped to kiss your bride. The pain came later that night, all the stronger for being suppressed. It felt like drowning, like I was unable to breathe, for crying, but that night did end, and I resurfaced.
I always knew that you’d be someone else’s, but that didn’t make it any easier. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else would be the worst pain ever, and that if survived that, which I did, I would be able accept anything else life threw at me.
But I was wrong.
But now it’s infinitely worse. You’re lying in bed, living out your last days, perhaps even your last hours on earth. We’ve tried everything, visited all the doctors under the sun, and yet found no cure. You’ve even stopped struggling, and you’re silent and calm, breathing with the help of a respirator.
I’d do anything to save you, but I can’t, and it’s all I can do to watch you fade away. I know that you’re worried about me, more worried, in fact than you are about your wife; though she loves you, we both know that she’ll be able to get on with her life. Maybe not this year, or even the next, but she will. It’s different with me, and you know it. You’ve left her all your fortune, but you’ve left me things that are infinitely more precious: your old baseball cards, and your sketches, done after you were confined to bed. But most importantly you’ve left me millions of memories, undimmed by time, and as concrete as if they were set in stone.
And now, I’m in the room with you, holding your hand. You’re struggling to say something, but I’m looking into your eyes, and I understand anyways. There are volumes of things left to say, but we’ve got no more time, so I just lean over you, and kiss your cheek for the last time.
“Goodbye, best friend. I love you”.
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what do you think of this?
i wrote it when i was bored
PURELY FICTIONAL
First comment is its too long. You have an upper limit of around 500 words.
I think your english is fabulous. Its just a matter of finding the right topic.
When I suggested writing using a character of the opposite sex I meant.... I really cant explain it in words.
Just try it out ;)
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First comment is its too long. You have an upper limit of around 500 words.
I think your english is fabulous. Its just a matter of finding the right topic.
When I suggested writing using a character of the opposite sex I meant.... I really cant explain it in words.
Just try it out ;)
I can just write a story whether fiction or non, for any sex..
The latter, i don't write always, but often! ;)
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ohhh so you're bi?
lmfao . jk jk .
im not good By the way
and yeah its supposed to be long i was bored :P
man . but i cant write like you people . and sometimes my paper 2 sucks like hell . sometimes i get the highest : | .
its annoying!
im gonna die if i dont get an A* in english :'( !!!
and those topics are so boring! : | . i looked at AS Lit topics .. they were far much more interesting!!
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ohhh so you're bi?
lmfao . jk jk .
im not good By the way
and yeah its supposed to be long i was bored :P
man . but i cant write like you people . and sometimes my paper 2 sucks like hell . sometimes i get the highest : | .
its annoying!
im gonna die if i dont get an A* in english :'( !!!
and those topics are so boring! : | . i looked at AS Lit topics .. they were far much more interesting!!
A Levels is far more enhanced, be indulged with this first! Literature In A2 and language in AS are the next steps..
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ohhh so you're bi?
lmfao . jk jk .
Ha ha. Very funny.
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To what extent do you agree that students should speak English at all times in secondary schools?
The mother tongue, an identifier of one’s nativity, is possibly the most imperative way for anyone to react and converse with their country’s people. However, since English has become the most widely used and renowned language throughout the world, it induces the use of the mother tongue for students in secondary schools rather idler and English more applied or persuaded for use. Nonetheless, this does not happen at a steady level at any secondary school, due to the fact that more of the students that go there are attached to their mother tongue, and make less use of English.
When taking up an example of a country with secondary schools that bears speaking English at all times as a rigid rule, China is very well noted. It’s not that hard to locate students in such schools whining and yammering about the difficulty of English and how their preference leans on their mother tongue. This is actually not right, and students do need to take up a habit of learning English with intrigue, as in the current state of the world, proper English can drive them to be more successful in the future.
Besides that, English can also drive students away from their mother tongue. English is genuinely a very influential language and when children, adolescents as well as adults become adept or at least adapted to it, a tendency of finding their own mother tongue boring and tedious can be observed. We can take up the example of Rato Bangala School in Nepal itself, where students apply the use of their mother tongue very well verbally but find writing and working with it very annoying and unendurable. This is one notable disadvantage the strictness of speaking English in secondary schools creates.
Now, when being succinct with the above details of speaking English at all times in secondary schools, we can infer it to be a rather good idea. Of course it isn’t impeccable, as the mother tongue is equally crucial to be learned and applied, but if students in secondary schools find it difficult to deal with English or like themselves dealing with their mother tongue and English verbally, then why not make the use of English embedded with extreme strictness during school hours? This could help them develop it further very well or at least give them a very good gist of idea on becoming an average English speaking person, helping them embark on a productive future career.
You need to work on writing argumentative text alot if you are planning to write it for the exam.
1. You should start off with a strong definitive stand. "I agree..." or "I simply beg to differ..."
2. Examiners don't like people who straddle the fence and pick on the best of both worlds. You need to pick your side and defend it.
3. Normally, a good argumentative text should contain 3 main points, with the strongest at the top and 1 to 2 paragraphs of adknowledging and refuting opposing views before ending with a conclusion that restates your stand and ties up the entire argument neatly. Speaking from experience, it is also very useful to separate your main points by paragraph.
4. A good way to structure your arguments in a parapgraph is SEE.
S- State
E- Explain/Elaborate
E- Example.
5. Moving on to your style, you should attempt to write in a formal style. No "whining or yammering" or "besides that...". However, try not to insert 'big' words unless you really understand what it means or it will come across as weird and destroys the essence of the entire point you are making.
6. Try reading out your essay under your breathe after every paragraph to check its fluidity. Sometimes, one may not realise that the paragraph is awkwardly punctuated and structured.
7. Your ideas need to be more focused and under your explanation, you should attempt to link back to your stand, something which is non existant in your above essay. Ask yourself this after every paragraph, did what I write answer the question?
8. At the moment, your ideas are all over the place with random examples inserted here and there, and you tend to make quite a few sweeping statements and generalisations. In writing argumentative texts, you need to back your statements up with solid facts. However, if you really are at the end of your wits when it comes to facts, I don't recommend it, but you CAN make up some statistics, just make it believable. =D
Yeap thats about it. 16/25 for your essay.
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LOL i dont mind getting a 10 on that essay because i have no idea how to write argumentative .. till now
what do you think of my descriptive ?
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17/25
-> You've used bombastic and flamboyant language without purpose and hence, sometimes used it out of context or incorrectly. E.g. I couldn’t help but see the dark colour on the horizon emerging towards me (it is inaccurate to say something is emerging toward another. Emerge is almost always used in the context of 'emerge from xyz', because plants don't grow to the sky, they grow from the ground. Exceptions not considered. Also, though insignificant, develop a habit of using 'toward', 'afterward', etc, since 'towards' is actually a colloquial term.)
-> Disruptive use of language. E.g. One because my mother would kill me (Firstly, 'one because' is not a logical phrase. It should either be 'the first one being that' or 'one: my mother', etc. Also, where you're using formal and florid language, 'my mother would kill me' is not appropriate. The narrative is disrupted because of this incorrect usage.)
-> Lack of fluency in script. E.g. I started to run. But then stopped. “What if I slip?”, I thought to myself. No. I couldn’t do it. So, I walked faster and put on the cap of my hood. Now, it was pelting and I was wet – completely soaked from top to bottom. (There is absolutely no fluidity in reading this entire paragraph. I pause at the wrong points and there is no connection between the sentences.)
I have not given many other examples and corrections on purpose, because if you grasp the flaws I've detected, you yourself will be able to evaluate your script.
:O CHINGOO! Read my personal statement for me?? ^_^
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:O CHINGOO! Read my personal statement for me?? ^_^
Uh, sure. xD
Galleria, when you edited your descriptive essay you merely corrected the errors I had pointed out. You did not look for similar errors in the script, which I asked you to, which is why it still doesn't deserve a lot more marks.
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I think its too late to improve onyour english writing skills. Your exams are on the doorstep.
The only advice I can give you is learn some new vocabulary.
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how about an 18 ? :D . im not askiiing for a lot . lol
aaand ari , oh . i was so amazed by your english so i showed your piece to this FABULOUS ENGLISH WRITER in our school's AS . she said it's like someone gave a dictionary to a 10th grader . lol . wellll anyway , i dont think learning some new vocabs are gonnaaaa help at all . i just need to be exposed to a LOT OF GOOD ESSAYS . that's all i can do , i have to prepare for other subjects too =( . so Ariiii , regardless of what that girl saiid , can you givee me some of your essays ? :D im sure all of them are amazing! i just need help preparing and i think only reading essays and not books can help at the moment .
aactually , good essays from everyone are welcome ! :D
PLEASE HELP ME WITH THIS LOL . I CAN LOSE MY A* because of my essay =[
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What would you grade this?
‘Everyone was talking about the new teacher at school. There was something different about her, something strange about her eyes that frightened people…’. Use this to begin your story.
Everyone was talking about the new teacher at school. There was something different about
her, something strange about her eyes that frightened people. Her ebony curly hair and long pointed nose intensified her anomaly and her marred clothing set an impact... not quite charming.
---
On a regular Monday morning, she paced through the hallways and entered Grade Ten ‘B’. As she pushed the door open and took three long strides, everyone shook to dread and stayed stern. “Good morning class”, a witchy voice said that set an impulse on just about everyone. The whole class replied, “Good morning witch”.
On hearing those three simple words, she felt furious and satirized, and it seemed so too. Her eyes rolled digressively and then stayed still, converging at one point, staring at the class that now shuddered with fear. “What did you impertinent little fools just call me?”, her affrighting voice narrated. She rose from the seat she had sat on after greeting the class and grabbed the stick that was lying against the wall. She closed the door and the curtains, and then turned on the light. Tapping the stick gently on her left hand, she said, “Now, can anyone repeat those words again?”
“GOOD MORNING WITCH”, shouted Cane, standing up. He sat at the left back corner of the class and his cliché of the words heard afore tilted everyone’s attention, inclusive of the new strange teacher. She walked towards him and then.. then she pounced! She struck him with the stick, despite being told that the school did not advocate physical punishment.. but what she was doing to him wasn't any physical punishment. It was terror. She hit his head with that stick, that cane, and the object and the subject’s name being quite the same was quite... Well... Fascinating!
But the beating he received wasn't quite so. But Cane wasn’t afraid of her. While the entire class shuddered, he maintained composure. And now, when she was repeatedly hitting him with the stick, he wasn’t afraid to hit back.
He charged like a rhino and pushed her to the ground, the blood seeping from his head smearing on the teacher’s dress. She fell down and the whole class cheered on her fall. But that cheer faded as she rose, not by the regular way but by rewinding her fall. She now laughed, “Muahahaha”. Now, none there could contradict that she wasn’t a witch.
Her eyes were red with exasperation and her evil smile stretched. She showed her teeth and took off her shoes. She juggled the cane like a professional and an ember manifested and then burgeoned, into an inferno. The whole class now cried and yammered, but they had all disappeared by the time the janitor opened the door.
The school still wonders who that person, that teacher was. Nothing remained in that room besides soot and a paper, a note passed during the class, "Sarah, she is a WITCH". But no one has ever bothered to pick up that piece of paper. The story only remains perplexing to many. Never solved.
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how about an 18 ? :D . im not askiiing for a lot . lol
aaand ari , oh . i was so amazed by your english so i showed your piece to this FABULOUS ENGLISH WRITER in our school's AS . she said it's like someone gave a dictionary to a 10th grader . lol .
Try to improve and earn marks instead of trying to get more marks for your current standard yo. :|
Ooh burn :P Haha
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What would you grade this?
‘Everyone was talking about the new teacher at school. There was something different about her, something strange about her eyes that frightened people…’. Use this to begin your story.
Everyone was talking about the new teacher at school. There was something different about
her, something strange about her eyes that frightened people. Her ebony curly hair and long pointed nose intensified her anomaly and her marred clothing set an impact... not quite charming.
---
On a regular Monday morning, she paced through the hallways and entered Grade Ten ‘B’. As she pushed the door open and took three long strides, everyone shook to dread and stayed stern. “Good morning class”, a witchy voice said that set an impulse on just about everyone. The whole class replied, “Good morning witch”.
On hearing those three simple words, she felt furious and satirized, and it seemed so too. Her eyes rolled digressively and then stayed still, converging at one point, staring at the class that now shuddered with fear. “What did you impertinent little fools just call me?”, her affrighting voice narrated. She rose from the seat she had sat on after greeting the class and grabbed the stick that was lying against the wall. She closed the door and the curtains, and then turned on the light. Tapping the stick gently on her left hand, she said, “Now, can anyone repeat those words again?”
“GOOD MORNING WITCH”, shouted Cane, standing up. He sat at the left back corner of the class and his cliché of the words heard afore tilted everyone’s attention, inclusive of the new strange teacher. She walked towards him and then.. then she pounced! She struck him with the stick, despite being told that the school did not advocate physical punishment.. but what she was doing to him wasn't any physical punishment. It was terror. She hit his head with that stick, that cane, and the object and the subject’s name being quite the same was quite... Well... Fascinating!
But the beating he received wasn't quite so. But Cane wasn’t afraid of her. While the entire class shuddered, he maintained composure. And now, when she was repeatedly hitting him with the stick, he wasn’t afraid to hit back.
He charged like a rhino and pushed her to the ground, the blood seeping from his head smearing on the teacher’s dress. She fell down and the whole class cheered on her fall. But that cheer faded as she rose, not by the regular way but by rewinding her fall. She now laughed, “Muahahaha”. Now, none there could contradict that she wasn’t a witch.
Her eyes were red with exasperation and her evil smile stretched. She showed her teeth and took off her shoes. She juggled the cane like a professional and an ember manifested and then burgeoned, into an inferno. The whole class now cried and yammered, but they had all disappeared by the time the janitor opened the door.
The school still wonders who that person, that teacher was. Nothing remained in that room besides soot and a paper, a note passed during the class, "Sarah, she is a WITCH". But no one has ever bothered to pick up that piece of paper. The story only remains perplexing to many. Never solved.
You don't need to tell the ending undecided, it's the reader/examiner who has to think at the verge of this topic dammit, make it like a cliffhanger, but not show it!