Writing is powerful. It gives us freedom to be the illustrator of our own imagination. While growing up I would write until my hand was sore, through schooling, teachers and different experiences I lost my love for writing. Now I have to give myself a mental pump up, before picking up a pencil, or sitting down to write a paper. My journey through writing is a rocky one, with accomplishments and detriments. I cherished writing growing up, I lost that desire, I have strengths and weaknesses as a writer, and I hope that I can regain the love I once had for writing, in this class. When I was little I loved when my mom would read to me. The Hungry Caterpillar, Peter Rabbit, and Curious George to name a few. I would soak up the stories like a sponge, and I could never get enough. At age four I would take a pen and paper and copy down the words in the books my mom read me. I set up my workspace on the piano bench. Pencil in hand and a grin on my face, I open up the magical door of a book and copied the words “Is Your Mama a Llama?” I’m sure I was breaking all kinds of copyright laws but that didn’t matter. I wanted to create an adventure of my own, a whimsical story from my imagination. At the age of four I couldn’t read or write on my own, but as I learned, my adventures blasted into a new universe. In third grade I wrote stories of animals, dragons, mermaids, and anything I could think of. I enjoyed constructing stories of my own; but even more, I loved to read. I would read
My writing has improved greatly over the years. Now, I am able to write much longer papers, my writing is more detailed, my writing is straight, I am able to write in different styles, and my letters aren't shaped weirdly anymore. All and all, my writing has improved a good amount. I still do not enjoy writing that much. I am really enjoying math and science right now. The writing that I do like, is writing about a subject that I choose with no guidelines. My past writing pieces that I have done, have been the personal narrative (in 6th grade), and the researched based writing project (also in 6th grade). Both of those projects I did not enjoy that much, because we worked on those two projects for a long time. Even thought I do not enjoy writing
In Shannon Nichols’ “Proficiency”, she bout her dislikes writing due to her experiences. While I was growing up, I never knew I would not like writing. People remind me of how I had great handwriting and loved to write stories. In college, I continue to struggle in writing essays and it is a challenge for me. Although Shannon Nichols and I despise writing growing up, we both have grown to become successful writers.
Laurel nodded her head when she heard that Zinda would be willing to aid her in her efforts of keeping the city running smoothly. “With that attitude I think Ryder will love you.” She stated with a small laugh, her head shook from side to side. “Even before the outbreak I always had a hard time sleeping.” She reached her right hand up and placed it against the back of her neck, rubbing at it. “So it really doesn’t bother me all that much.” She nodded her head. She knew what Zinda said was true, that she should try and sleep more but that seemed easier said than done. She really tried to sleep at night sleep just seemed to elude her, it was never there when she really need it. Like the night they got back from the Farmhouse, all she wanted to do was fall asleep and forget the whole events that had taken place there. Sadly that didn’t happen, she stayed up all night thinking about how she could have done thing differently, that she should have stayed with Kate.
If he had been human, everything would have been easier. Hal's life would have been so much better; he wouldn't have been forced to fight, or be controlled by the code in his head. He would have grown into a different, maybe better person. But then, they would still be stuck in the compound, still there when the bots had malfunctioned, and they may have not even escaped. Perhaps they would have died an untimely death and not have escaped into the wastes and would be left to rot in the desecrated compound, forgotten, and the only sign they were there were their desecrated skeletons, and even those would be ground away by the sands of time until they eventually became nothing. It was a pity that they would meet that fate regardless; Dirk would
Guido couldn’t believe he was home alone after he arrived from middle school. Mom was usually standing in the kitchen, making him a delicious snack consisting of fruits and sandwiches, smiling brightly as she graciously served him, knowing full well that he was tired from a hard day of learning.
A semester has passed since I started college and my journey of becoming a better writer. It has been a very important semester for my future college career, and I would not be here without the things I have accomplished. The composition program has really helped me to prepare for what college writing is all about. Now standing here and looking back I could not imagine how it would be without that class. I believe my English, and my writing is better than it has ever been, and all thanks to the composition program.
Coming from a completely a completely different side of the world where a completely different language is spoken, distinct cultural norms exist, I had to relearn what I previously knew so well. I would like to think of my writing journey as being divided into three stages of school, Elementary, Middle, and Highschool. Each stage equally important in bringing out my faults and mistakes in understanding the English language and ultimately leading me to unlock my full potential as a writer.
It was dark when I arrived at the village. People were going about their nightly chores before they retired for the night. They quickly escorted me to the wigwam of a woman who was in labour.
Have you ever been given an assignment where you say to yourself, “how the heck am I going to do this?” or maybe, “what am I supposed to write about?” Well that’s exactly how I felt, thought, and did with this writing journey. Coming up with something to say about my writing journey has been difficult. I would be bold enough to say nearly impossible. So impossible it’s like trying to get a camel through the eye of a needle. Okay that might be an exaggeration, but it has been difficult. The idea that I have a writing journey I understand. But thinking of an event or something that has made my writing the way it is has been difficult. So, what I’ve decided to do then is to write about my writing journey writing this paper.
My journey through reading and writing started once I started school. I don’t remember the early years but they laid down a foundation for me. It got me to where I am today. I love reading for pleasure but I want to be more open to different types of genres. I’m not the best writer but I try my best to write well. I have a strong approach to writing an essay but when it comes to actually writing, I don’t feel too confident. I hope that this year will help me become a better reader and writer.
From a young age, I have always been taught to understand the value of education and learning. Reading and writing have been emphasized to me as tools for success, that should always be constantly improved, for as long as I can remember.
James grabbed after her, but she all but melted away down the stairs, running for all she was worth. Which, as it turned out, was quite a bit. Gabby was damaged, and terribly so, but she was desperate to preserve whatever was left of herself. James stepped into the basement, looking at her as she held the bottle. Flashes of memory, a bathroom, a phone, a threat oh so like this. But he had little doubt that this was going to end very differently. He weighed his options. If he let Gabby go, she'd essentially kill them all. he had no doubt what his fate would be. What Callie's fate would be. He wouldn't let it happen. He loved his daughter, but he couldn't let her destroy them. Closing his eyes, feeling tears start to form at what was about to
Writing is something I enjoy doing to share my opinions and ideas. During this english course, I have learned how to change my writing in ways that make it more intriguing and effective. The essays I have written during this English 101 course have pushed me to change my writing process and write more creatively. Those essays have also forced me to reanalyze my personal opinions and beliefs. After taking this course, I believe that my identity as a writer has changed for the better.
Writing has always played a huge role in my life. I’ve been reading writing for as long as I can remember as I have an immense love of reading. This love would grow into a love for writing as well; I still stumble upon journals and writings from my five-year-old self about the happenings in my kindergarten class. As time would go on I would discover academic writing, and how to convey my thoughts on what was the topic of student that particular year or semester in my schooling. Later, writing would become a constant for me, and a comfort; I was known to my friends as always having a journal, and a pen on my person. I learned to write down my feelings and my thoughts, song lyrics that were in my head, reflections for the day. I learned how
Writing has always been something I dread. It’s weird because I love talking and telling stories, but the moment I have to write it all down on paper, I become frantic. It’s almost as if a horse race just begun in my mind, with hundreds of horses, or words, running through my mind, unable to place them in chronological order. Because I struggle to form satisfying sentence structure, it takes me hours, sometimes even days, to write one paper. It’s not that I think I’m a “bad writer,” I just get discouraged easily. Needless to say, I don’t think highly of my writing skills. When I was little I loved to both read and write. I read just about any book I could get my hands on, and my journal was my go to for my daily adventures. Although it’s