Professional Documents
Culture Documents
1) A Friendly Clown: Descriptive
1) A Friendly Clown: Descriptive
1) A Friendly Clown
On one corner of my dresser sits a smiling toy clown on a tiny unicycle--a gift I
received last Christmas from a close friend. The clown's short yellow hair, made
of yarn, covers its ears but is parted above the eyes. The blue eyes are outlined
in black with thin, dark lashes flowing from the brows. It has cherry-red cheeks,
nose, and lips, and its broad grin disappears into the wide, white ruffle around
its neck. The clown wears a fluffy, two-tone nylon costume. The left side of the
outfit is light blue, and the right side is red. The two colors merge in a dark line
that runs down the center of the small outfit. Surrounding its ankles and
disguising its long black shoes are big pink bows. The white spokes on the
wheels of the unicycle gather in the center and expand to the black tire so that
the wheel somewhat resembles the inner half of a grapefruit. The clown and
unicycle together stand about a foot high. As a cherished gift from my good
friend Tran, this colorful figure greets me with a smile every time I enter my
room.
Here's the final version of the descriptive paragraph that appears in the
exercise Practice in Supporting a Topic Sentence with Specific Details.
Compare this version with the earlier one to see which descriptions have been
retained, what information has been omitted, and how sentences have been
reworded and rearranged.
In the next descriptive paragraph, the student writer focuses less on the physical
appearance of her pet than on the cat's habits and actions.
3) Gregory
by Barbara Carter
Gregory is my beautiful gray Persian cat. He walks with pride and grace,
performing a dance of disdain as he slowly lifts and lowers each paw with the
delicacy of a ballet dancer. His pride, however, does not extend to his
appearance, for he spends most of his time indoors watching television and
growing fat. He enjoys TV commercials, especially those for Meow Mix and 9
Lives. His familiarity with cat food commercials has led him to reject generic
brands of cat food in favor of only the most expensive brands. Gregory is as
finicky about visitors as he is about what he eats, befriending some and
repelling others. He may snuggle up against your ankle, begging to be petted, or
he may imitate a skunk and stain your favorite trousers. Gregory does not do
this to establish his territory, as many cat experts think, but to humiliate me
because he is jealous of my friends. After my guests have fled, I look at the old
fleabag snoozing and smiling to himself in front of the television set, and I have
to forgive him for his obnoxious, but endearing, habits.
The following paragraph opens the third chapter of Maxine Hong Kingston's The
Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts (Knopf, 1976), a lyrical
account of a Chinese-American girl growing up in California. Notice how
Kingston integrates informative and descriptive details in this account of "the
metal tube" that holds her mother's diploma from medical school.
bats are as white as dust, a smell that comes from long ago, far back in the
brain.
In this paragraph (originally published in Washington Post Book World and
reprinted in Faith of a Writer: Life, Craft, Art [HarperCollins, 2003]), Joyce Carol
Oates affectionately describes the "single-room schoolhouse" she attended
from first through fifth grades. Notice how she appeals to our sense of smell
before moving on to describe the layout and contents of the room.
descriptive paragraphs
Page historylast edited by PBworks 10 years ago
Transitional Expressions-
Next to, near, close, far, up, down, between, above, below, left, right, center,
toward, away.
- All of these are used when writing a descriptive paragraph.
An example: I think the way a person dresses can really explain who they are and
what they are about.
Standing on his hind legs, this rare andalucian stallion is fearless. His ears are
turned back while his noble looking head is held high. His all black coat glistens in
the late afternoon sun. His face displays a strong confidence with his nostrils flared,
his veins bulging from his cheek bones, and his fiery black eyes burning holes into
the souls of those who stare into them. His neck muscles are tensed and thickened
with adrenalin. His black main is thrown into the wind like a flag rippling in the
winds of a tornado. His muscular front legs are brought up to his chest displaying his
flashing gray hooves that could crush a man's scull with one blow. His backbone and
underbelly are held almost straight up and his hind quarters are tensed. His back
legs are spread apart for balance. His back hooves are pressed into the earth;
therefore, his hooves cause deep gouges from the weight of his body on the soil. His
black tail is held straight down and every once in a while a burst of wind catches it
and then it floats down back into place like an elegant piece of silk falling from the
sky. His bravery and strength are what made his breed prized as a warhorse.
~ Jamell Wilson, 2005~
This is a really good desciptive paragraph. It is very well developed, stays on the
topic, and has some very descriptive words that happen throughout the paragraph.
This is something that keeps the reader wanting to read more and more.
Snap Shot
Back in 1999 this fearless athlete posed in this football picture. In the far distance
below the cloudless sky stands an off-white stadium. Embedded in the center is
large, cracked, blue, painted, letters that spell out BISON. Beneath the old stadium
are rows of worn-out bleachers which are completely empty. Up in front stands the
competitor down on one knee. As you observe more, the sport player is wearing a
blue Bison jersey sporting the number 60. To the left above the freshly trimmed
green grass that engulfs this players figure lays a football. In the center of the
picture, you see her pale white face and dark brown eyes. Around these features
you can not help but notice the bronzed hair; which appears to be pulled back
around this slender face. Her stern look shows how proud she is; nonetheless, all
the confidence she carries on her padded up shoulders. This unique woman is not
only elegant and brave; she is my sister, Margaret Eva Hoyt.
~ Kayla Marie Anfinson, 2005~
The much advertised meteor show this summer was a memory ot behold. The air
was crisp and cool. I did not even feel a hint of a breeze on my skin as I lie on my
back in the darkness. The warm temperature of the water against the cooler air
created a drifting airy fog that whispered over the lake. Darkness enveloped the sky
as only a slight curve of the moon shone in the night; consequently, this made the
perfect stage for the breathtaking view of twinkling stars. In the still of the night
many galaxies glittered from the depths of the sky as I felt hypnotically drawn into
the mesmorizing show above me. Broad irregular bands of light from the Milky Way
stretched across the sky while the big and little dipper shined brightly. As predicted,
the meteor show began with various sized meteors cascading to the earth's
atmosphere about every fifteen to thirty seconds. Shots of light, followed by orange
and white mist, describes the presence of the meteors. The panoramic view made it
possible to witness several meteors at a time while marveling at each one. An event
like this may only happen once in a lifetime, so I will cherish this moment and it will
remain as one of my fondest memories.
~ 2005 Leslie Malsam~
textures and flavors in this dessert appealed to every part of my senses. I could not
wait to eat it.
~ 2005 Kelly Cofske~
This is a great descriptive paragraph becuase of the not so ordinary words used to
describe each and every little thing that is in this hot fudg sundae. The way that
it's all put together and compared to a mountain really helps put the image into
your own mind. this paragraph is also focused on just one topic. After reading this I
was craving a hot fudge sunday. So good job Kelly! ~ 2005 Ashleigh Tranmer~
My Son Joshua
My eight year old son, Joshua, stands out in a crowd of children because of his
distinctive appearance and gentle manner. The first thing I notice when I look at him
is his size. He stands at shoulder height next to me; indeed, he is a head taller than
other children his age, and is definitely stronger. His weight is a hefty 113 pounds;
without a doubt, he weighs forty pounds more than other children in his grade level.
Recently, my husband signed him up for flag football, where he was told: It is a
good thing the children arent playing tackle football, because he might
inadvertently hurt the other kids. Also remarkable is his red hair; it is thick, coarse
to touch, and styled in an old-fashioned boy cut. Hardly a person can pass Joshua
without rubbing his head for good luck, and saying Whered ya get that hair?
Joshuas chubby face is fair, with freckles lightly dotting his exceptionally boyish
features. His eyes are pale blue, and his eyebrows blond; in fact, white, in contrast
with his red hair. His lips are full and somewhat feminine, and his newly-grown
permanent teeth, which appear large alongside his remaining baby teeth, have a
wide gap. His shoulders are broad, his chest juts out, and his belly is plump. His
forearms are bulky, and will someday be powerful, yet his wrists retain the same
creases he has had since he was a ten pound newborn. When we hold hands, his
hands feel nearly as large as mine, and are unexpectedly soft. His legs are sturdy
and strong, and his knees are covered with fresh scrapes and purple bruises,
received while skateboarding and biking. His ankles are also solid; consequently, he
cant wear boots. His feet are size 6 and wide; therefore, too wide for slip-on tennis
shoes. Despite his appearance, Joshua is unexpectedly sensitive and caring; in fact,
he still likes to sit on my lap, an awkward feat for me. He likes to open doors for me,
tend his little brother, and help me grocery shop. From head to toe he is a
contradiction; although he is only eight years old, he is big and strong, while loving
and gentle, and that makes him stand out from other children, at least in my eyes.
~ 2005 Kelly Byron~
Honeymoon
My wife and I honeymooned in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico; while there, we visited
the ruins of Tulum. At the entrance of the ruins, large palm frond trees stand lush
and tall with wild life resting on its branches. In the middle of this miniature rain
forest is a dirt path leading towards a hand built stone wall ten feet tall. While
walking through the passage built in the wall, on the right, at the top of the wall sat
a large, brown and green hued iguana. Just past this great wall of protection is a
field of green grass overlooking the ruin's. To the left is a small court yard bordered
by a stone wall leading to the agua blue, warm ocean a few hundred yards away. In
a corner section of this cramped courtyard, is a fresh water hole in a cave like
crevice. As you walk the acres upon acres of grass, the sounds of chirping and
squawking birds permeate the air. Vibrant colored plants and iguanas of all sizes
give you an idea of life as it was two thousand years ago. Enormous square and
rectangular stones capture the eye for the beauty they hold both outside and the
history made inside. Steep staircases rise from the ground to ascend to the top of
these world treasures; in fact, a few of these temples were built atop the cliffs of the
Yucatan Peninsula. The beach below is blinding white, soft coral sand, crushed to a
fine powder by swift ocean currents.
~ 2005 Chad Lewis~
A beach in Hawaii on a December day is like a day at a lake in mid August. The
beach smells fresh, almost like a new ocean breeze air freshener. The sand is hot
and looks like gold blended in with little white specks; it sparkles like the water
running off the swimmers back and feels like walking on coals from a burning grill.
Not far from the shore, you can see the coral sitting still in the wild and shallow
water. Trutles drift in to see all the people. The plam trees sway in the air from the
forceful wind. In a distance, a house is beutifully placed right by the water, so it can
look across the ocean each and every day. People are laughing and playing in the
burning sand, and others are relaxing on the beach bronzing their skin while
enjoying the bright rays of light coming from the sun. From a far distance the ocean
is a deep navy blue; waves come in like a bulldozer from all the wind. At night
everything is still. Waves are still coming in but not as hard, while the beach is
cleared from all the people. All you can hear is the waves of the ocean and the light
breeze coming from the giant palm trees. The beach is a spectacular place. Leaving
it is excruciating and difficult to do.
~ 2005 Ashleigh Tranmer~
Narrative parr
Be written in time order. This means you must write about the
event in the order the events occurred.
narrative paragraphs
Page historylast edited by PBworks 10 years ago
Narration: A story that is written to explain what, when, and who. It reveals
what a reader should learn. Narration paragraphs are usually written in
chronological order.
It should make a clear point: it should bring to life a moral, lesson, or idea.
While it is true a narrative is a story, there is more in the telling of the story. The
narrative, or story, needs to make the reader feel involved, teach a lesson, help get
an idea across, or feel emotionally about it. The narrative needs to explain who is in
the story, tell what is happening, and when it happened. The topic sentence needs
to be clear so the reader knows they are going to learn something from the story.
The story itself is written in time, or chronological order, as the events occured.~
Mary M.
Common Transitional expressions used in a narrative paragraph are after,
finally, soon, as (soon as), later, then, before, meanwhile, upon, during, next, when,
first, now, and while.
A good way to plan for a well developed paragraph is to write out a topic sentence,
then write events in chronological order and then write a conclusion. This is a good
way to make sure you stay on topic and that all the events are in the correct order.
Peddling On My Own
Learning how to ride a bike for the first time was a nerve racking independent
moment. I was about five years old when my sister informed me that I was too old
to still be riding a bike with training wheels. That was the time I decided not to
depend on them anymore. Even though I had some doubt, my sister and I went
outside and started to take the little wheels off my bike. After my bike went through
the transformation, I was now ready for the big moment. With butterflies in my
stomach, I slowly got on the bike, and with my shaky hands, I gripped the handles
tightly. Meanwhile my sister was holding on to me to help keep my balance. I was so
afraid the she would let go, yet I was determined to ride this bike on my own. Next
with a little push from her, I started to peddle. The faster my bike went the faster
my heart raced. Finally I looked back nervously and noticed that my sister let go of
my bike a long time ago. I was so excited that I accomplished freedom on my bike
that I forgot to peddle. The next step I remember, I was lying on the ground, yet I
did not care because of the adrenaline rush. I will never forget the exhilarating
moment and growing up stage of riding a bike without training wheels.
~ Fallon Fauque 2005~
and there was the secret annex. When I stepped into the room behind the
bookshelf, I felt as if I had stepped back into history. I found Annes room still with
pictures of her favorite celebrities on her walls. The Frank familys furniture was still
placed where they had left them in the rooms, everything just as described in the
diary. I toured each room in awe of actually seeing how they had lived, yet with
sadness to know how it all ended. Annes diary was no longer just a book to me, but
true heart-felt, emotional life story written by a girl I felt I almost knew.
~ Denise Rafferty~
mop today. My heart warmed, and I wished that moments like those could remain in
my heart forever; but sadly, memories fade and little boys grow up. Maybe someday
when he is a bigger boy, Kaleb will help Mr. Bruce mop the school hallways, but in
the meanwhile he'll have to be satisfied with helping his Mom mop floors at home.
~ 2005 Kelly Byron~
Worst Day
My fathers name is Robert Oeleis, he died on Aug 28th 2003 of a heart attack. It
was about six in the morning I was sleeping restlessly and the phone rang and I
missed it then it rang again. I saw it was my fathers house calling to get me up for
the first day of school. To my surprise it was my stepmother crying on the other line.
This was the start of the worst day of my life in the short seventeen years I had
been alive. She proceeded to tell me that my father has had a heart attack and the
ambulance had came and got him. Then the horror began I asked hes ok right hes
going to be ok . With sorrow in her voice she said Jace hes dead. Know I started
crying and disbelief and ran to my moms room screaming and yelling. Later my
family gathered and remembered the day that I recall as the worst day of my life.
~ Jace Oeleis~
have never been in. I did not know what to think. When I got inside it wasnt what I
thought. I had imagined in all my worrying that I was going to be interrogated. I
would sit at the end of a long generic table with the only light in the room pointed at
me while countless people threw questions at me all at once. I found myself instead
in a formal setting. I was asked to sit down, and the questioning began. They didnt
throw the questions at me, but gave them to me one at a time. During the session I
realize that I had prepared well. To this day the only thing that made all the stressful
anticipation worth it was the day of my award ceremony. All the people that helped
me along the way were there to congratulate me. As I stood in front of them I could
tell what they were thinking they were proud of me. No matter how old a person is,
there is always someone that they want to make proud, and the sacrifices that are
necessary are almost always worth the reward.
by Andrew White
WRITE IN ENGLISH
Lesson Twelve:
narrative paragraphs
A narrative paragraph tells a story. Something happens first, second,
third, etc. Of course, narrative paragraphs are used in fiction as a
writer describes the unfolding of events, but they are also found
when describing any actual sequence of activity.
Because narrative paragraphs resemble fiction (an untrue story),
you have a little more freedom to write the story in the style you
prefer. This is known as artistic freedom or artistic license. You can
use the first person narrative style and include words that clearly
refer to you (I, me, my, mine, etc.), or you can try to tell the story
from a purely objective point of view that is not personal, but gives a
straight-forward, factual account of what happened.
If your teacher asks you to write about a personal experience, try to
tell it by using the first person. This is the easiest style in which to
write something. You might choose something that you remember
well, or something that changed you life. Teachers who work with a