Essay on Personal Narrative- My Love of Reading and Writing

in 2014 I had done a lot of fundraising in the past year such as selling about 50 spam musubis a day plus cookies and brownies and even selling bentos and doughnuts ands finally trail mix bars during school. even outside of school I did fundraising from car washes to even mowing yards. eventually I made enough money with the help of all my family to get to go on the trip. I even made more money so I could relinquish it so I can buy gifts and such things like food. I'm not infallible at Japanese because it so happens that I cant read any of the signs that are in japan. when we landed in japan it was amazing because the airport was so huge and had paintings that look so amazing. when we got our luggage, it was pouring rain when we went outside to the bus. it was about an hour and a

cancer is the enemy. cncer kills over 20 thousand people a day occording to global report. this terrole disease is so common 12.7 million people a year find out they have cancer and of that number rouggly 7.6 million die. cancer being the leading cause of death world wide has led to several fundraisers to support our courageous fighters. a fundrauser i have been lucky enough to participate in is a 5k run/3k walk. i was 13 when i partocipated in my first 5k run/3k walk in stuttgart germany for a light the night for all kinds of cancers. pervous to the fundraiser i was sadly told my cousin who was just a baby at the tome had been diagnosed with luekimia. immediately i wanted to help, i began by spreading the word around my school and having my friends buy tshirts titled

I was ten, the most terrifying event I had been through was riding the little dragon roller coaster at the fair, but that night changed it all. The fear that started in my head spread like wildfire to the rest of my body from the tips of my fingers to the bottoms of my toes. My heart was racing so fast that it could have beat Usain Bolt in a 100m dash. Stop, drop and roll, three steps that should have come naturally, but instead I froze, looked down at my yellow and black checkered flannel in complete terror, fearing for my life.

I had always assumed that my legs were strong and that I had decent muscle control, however, this thought was proven wrong at the beginning of my junior year in high school due to a detrimental injury. It was the first game of fall league for basketball, and within the first five minutes I had succumbed to an injury. Tearing my ACL and Meniscus has taught me to continue improving on my strength, not let this one injury keep me down, and to keep a positive mindset.

Have you ever felt so nervous in your life that your mind ached with anxiety. It was the final race in my seventh grade track season, but little did I know my anxiety became the least of my worries.

I have never been much of a writer, but I can’t say I completely hate it. For as long as I can remember, I was always one of the kids that would sigh when a teacher assigned an essay for the class. One reason for having a dislike towards writing was because it takes a lot of thought and time to even think of how to begin. However, as I grew older, I came to the conclusion that writing isn’t all that bad. I actually found writing quite interesting when I get the chance to write about something that I strongly care about. So writing to me is bittersweet, depending on if it’s something that interests me or not.

Growing up it became apparent to me rather quickly that reading was not an option. Whether or not I particularly enjoyed it, I was going to have to do it – for the rest of my life. It was not until half way through high school that I began to value reading and writing. Before, I saw reading and writing as more of a chore, or something that I had to do. Though now, it is something that I have more of an appreciation for. Reading and writing have become an outlet for creativity, expression, stress, and much more.

HAROLD, is a flight instructor. He is in his mid fifties, and is too lackadaisical to be giving lessons. His hair is a frazzled mess. He looks as though he just rolled out of bed. He leans back in his seat wearing sunglasses, having not a care in the world.

I love to write. It’s actually where I feel most creative. However, I don’t love to write. It is my belief that composing documents by typing them is unquestionably easier and more efficient. When one physically writes, they typically tire easily. For me, it’s usually at five sentences or so when my hand starts to cramp up. At that point, I begin to compromise in my writing, trying to get to my point as quickly as possible, so that I can just get it over with. I also find that I’m a planner when writing. I can have a whole paragraph mapped out in my head before even starting it. However, when I have to slowly and painstakingly compose with a pen or pencil, I lose many of the ideas I had going into it, and again, just want to get it over with.

The brain is 3.3 pounds, has 86 billion nerve cells, and makes up 2% of 100% of people. Though this organ belongs to all people, it is still unique to everyone. The decision made, emotions felt, and life that was lived can be held in the palms of a person's hand.

This class kept my fairytale from completely shattering, and there is something about it that sparks a child-like wonder. While English class appeared to cripple my love for reading, my passion for writing had a reawakening. Somewhere along the way I had become less prolific in story writing, but when I joined the class I experienced a revelation of not just story-telling, but poetry and spoken word, free-writes, and the power that came with putting pen to paper. When I enrolled in Creative Writing, I was not sure what to expect. I almost feared that it may take away what remained of my joy for writing, as I had witnessed with my reading. I found instead a class that flourished on kids’ imagination and devotion for writing. While I appreciate what English classes teach and realize they are beneficial for learning, I think some of my past teachers could learn something from the atmosphere that is found in a creative writing classroom. Reading in English classes should mirror writing classes— a balance between structured teaching and a pleasure of

I am Matt Valerio, a 9th grader at The Hill School in Pottstown, PA. I am 14 years old and love to play hockey, lacrosse, and golf. I would like to be a freelance writer for you because I love to write and would enjoy writing for ABC Journal. I love to write in my free time. I intend to write about sports; I play Hockey, Lacrosse, and golf. However, I do not see many articles about lacrosse, so I would like to get the people of Townville, PA excited about lacrosse. I would mostly write about nonfiction due to the sports I like to write about. My strengths as a writer would probably include most of my vocabulary and the fact that I am passionate about my topics I write about. I would include my Room for Debate essay because it shows

I walked out of the locker room and stepped onto the ice in Valley City to start the game for third place in state. Once my team and I were all on the ice we started doing our warm ups. Soon the buzzer goes off telling us we are done with the warm ups and we all skate to the bench.

“5, 6, 7, and 8. Ok, see you tomorrow. Make sure to go over the steps and be ready,” the coach said. Walking to the side of the gym and picking up my bag, I looked to my left to see if my cousin was ready to go. As I get into the car, my cousin and I talk about how practicing for tryout went. You could hear the excitement in my voice as I tell about the moves we went over. How every step and every turn made the dance come together. Going home, I started my homework later than when I usually do because of practicing the moves over and over. The next couple of days went very smoothly for me. I still remembered the dance moves, finished all my work, and still was able to have a social life until the weekend came.

I was ten; it was my first year and first wilderness trip at Camp Birchwood in northern Minnesota. Four other kids, three counselors, and I had been canoeing for three days through the Boundary Waters, a vast network of lakes on the U.S. border with Canada. I’d been camping countless times with my parents and friends, and thought my fit at camp was perfect.