Summary Of ' My Hands Were Trembling '

It was another average school night and the red letters on my alarm clock read midnight. My tired eyes stared at the blank word document on the laptop, my mind devoid of ideas. The prompt for this week’s creative writing essay was about bizarre situations. Usually, my mind would be overflowing with ideas like a river, and I would get the assignment done on the first day. Three days passed, and I still had no ideas. I was officially afflicted with the notorious writer’s block I had heard so much of. There was this feeling of having an empty void in my mind, and having uncertainty over what to write next, whether it is over the prompt or the next words. Closing the laptop in defeat and accepting the reality that I would receive a failing grade for the paper, I shut the laptop and trudged over to my bed and dove under the covers. At least I would not suffer the consequences of my actions in the temporary

I feel like the topic that was written in this short story was good to write about because even through I am not the best of a writing either and don’t really like to write as much. That doesn’t mean you have to give up or hand in any kind of paper. Its always best to get better at

While working on my narrative, I observed several factors including obstacles, thereby making it harder to produce a unique, quality work. The first one was the incompetence to choose a topic. Being my first

Reflecting on my life as a means of deciding on a topic, one time period struck me as particularly important in terms of writing itself: my second year of second grade. Moving to Poway in 2007, the first class I was in was Mrs. Ramin’s 2-3 combo at Painted Rock. I had purple wire-rim glasses, a brown Hello Kitty tracksuit, two friends, and a hatred of writing. This was particularly unfortunate for young Analise, since Mrs. Ramin’s main focus was writing. She encouraged her students to write daily, setting aside 20-60 minutes each day for it. Although I hated it at first, my passion for creative writing grew as I turned my love for my sister and for Webkinz into tales of adventure and peril parallel to my then favorite series, Magic Tree House. I wrote, drew, and colored whatever my seven-year-old imagination spun for me. After that spark, the fire of writing died down to a smolder until eighth grade, when I wrote my first successful essay, “Flowers for Algernon: A Comparative Essay On How Two Versions of the Story are like

When we were given the final assignment’s instructions, I was very confused by it. I did not understand what were we supposed to do and how to do it. I had an idea on mind, however after talking to Professor McNair, I understood what the assignment was and I realized that I needed a new pitch for the final project. The task was to create a short 30 seconds story with no dialogue, which had a beginning, middle and end. In addition, the story needed to have a motive for action. The character was to move within the frame but with a purpose. This is the most important part of the project because it leads to everything else. After thinking about this assignment over and over, one day I finally got a divine insight. I realized that I needed to do something simple that several people could relate to.

As spring semester began, the anxiety pushed into my life. Since I knew I was going to be the youngest in the class, I was concerned if people were even going to talk to me. I expected to come into the stressful English 101 class as a relatively inexperienced writer; however, I was astounded when I started writing my first college essay. Our topic “monsters” has taught me ways to analyze and compare certain people and objects. My recommendation for those entering this composition class is to not wait until the last minute and ask as many questions as you can to reach your goal towards fantastic essays. Although spring semester is coming to an end, I will continue to improve my writing skills and reasoning as I advance in my English and college career.

After a grueling first quarter, I was completely miserable, with terrible grades, low self-esteem, and no end in sight. I was hanging on to the hope that there would be some epiphany moment, a moment where suddenly my writing soared, along with my grades. That change did happen, but not all at once‒ it began during the third quarter, when my teacher, Ms. Boynton, asked me to stay after class, along with five other students. She asked if we would each be interested in participating in The Atlantic and College Board Essay Contest, in which we would each submit an analysis of a famous American speech. I was truly stunned that she had chosen me over so many other students in the class, since I had felt so lost for so many weeks, but it was exactly what I needed as motivation to keep on improving my writing. As I worked closely with her on my contest submission and other class work, I came to realize how much she cared about me and wanted to help me succeed. With that being said, she never made it easy; she continually pushed me, knowing that I could always do better if I set my mind to it. Last September, I began her demanding course with the intention of purely surviving, not necessarily thriving, but that

From the early beginning of the school year to the current day, my writing skills and knowledge have improved and broadened over time. If not drastic, the change is noticeable nevertheless. For almost an entirety of eighth grade, assignments of varying difficulty challenged me to a degree. To be frank, some seemed as though they were beyond my comprehension and ability. However, determination amalgamated with knowledge obtained in advance helped me to overcome my doubts, for I exceeded my expectations; surprisingly good grades and comments are a delight, owing to the fact of that I don’t tend to think of myself as being proficient at writing. Consequently, the assignments given to me this school year shaped me into who I am as a writer.

I thought, “There are not that many papers. This should be my easiest English class so far!” and I happily put all of the due dates into my agenda. There was a time close to the end of the first week where I realized how hard this class might actually be. A few hours before I needed to be at work I submitted my rough draft paper early. Every ten minutes I was checking my submission on the discussion board to make sure that I could make any changes that needed to be done before the due date that night. This was the first time that I was completely unconfident in myself on whether or not I had written a quality paper, or even did it

Entering the class, english comp. one, I had many fears as to what the class would be like. I had no idea what to expect as a senior in highschool. During the past english classes I had, we wrote papers, just not a different one every day. Going into english comp. one, I figured it would be the same method in english just like the past classes I had. On the very first day in the class, I quickly found out that I would have to buckle down a little more than I have been in the past. I knew then, from what Mrs. Garth had told us, that I was going to have many weaknesses while writing my papers, but I would also have many strengths from what I had learned in the past about writing.

How is the topic important to you and how does it affect you? What do you personally hope to gain or accomplish by writing about this topic? In this section, describe your topic and how it first affected you. Explain why it is important to you. Reflect on how or why your background, motivations, needs, or interests sparked you to choose this topic. The best topics are those that are important to and involve you.

The next paper was kind of my saving grace: the extra credit essay. This kind of writing was what I was good at: stories. My only problem was that I didn’t have much to say during the winter storm considering I had stayed in most of the day and watched movies until my eyes hurt. This was my chance to get back my love of writing, to redeem myself. Yet, I couldn’t really figure out a good story to tell when I had barely gone outside. After a couple of hours and plenty of coffee, I took out my assignment page and created an outline from there. I didn’t have much excitement, but the details I could write easily. I loved painting a picture with my words. Yet, I couldn’t connect the storm to a bigger picture. My critical thinking skills were on once again mute and I simply ignored that matter altogether hoping that it would be skipped over in the grading part. That didn’t work at all but I was satisfied with my B since it was only extra-credit.

Narration, story arc, creative descriptive verse, and tension, all the elements to retain my reader’s attention and tell my story were there, and although my second draft was crude, my memoir began to take shape.

All throughout my years of schooling, I’ve had just about, one paper that was about one page long, due every year. My papers never had to be more than one page in length. Therefore, I did not have to do much writing or do many essays. Surely not enough to remember any of the assignments. Writing has never been something I enjoyed doing, so I never bothered to many any memories of my writing experiences. I did not think it was necessary to remember any of them since I only had to do them to get a grade. The only writing experience I remember was the first assignment I had in this English 100 class about a writing experience. All week long, I sat there thinking about what to write about, but nothing came to mind as a topic. Then, one thing came to mind, but it was so very vague, I could not write the length that was needed for the assignment. I could only think of a few sentences to write for it. After sitting for a few moments longer, I thought, how about I write about how difficult it was for me to write this essay before it was due.

Since the beginning of the semester, my writing has changed and evolved to accommodate and sustain longer essays. With longer essays, there is more room for in-depth analysis. Further analyzing a topic has led me to findings that I did not know existed. As I continue to write, I uncover addition and superior methods to approach my writing to the benefit of me and therefore, my audience. Throughout the semester, I have incorporated techniques to further my narrative throughout my writing.