Showing Not Telling - Day 4

By Sophie H and Colin

As the bug parks next ot my lake, my best friend and I hop in to the icy water. When we come up, my friend's hair shnes like gold in the evening light. With laughter pouring out of our smiling faces, we splash each other with water. Frantically, we stumble to the house. A few hours later with droopy eyes we can tell that, " we were gonna be friends"

By Thomas and Martha Wright (15/20)

Butterflies fill my stomach as I step outside the Audi Q7.  The cool breeze blowing in my face makes goose pimples crawl up my back.  I walk up the hard wooden steps and enter through the squeaky door and enter through the old rusted cabin.  Ten year old girls sawrmed the cabin like ants atacking a cricket.  One small girl was siting in a corner.  I slowed walked over to her and diligently asked her what her name was.  Her quiet response was, " Sarah."  I asked her if she wanted to got to the lake.  She quicklyresponde, "sure."  As we jumped into the icy cold water I soon realized that we were going to  be friends.

• Day 4 Results- to come. Buxton class did not finish Day 4 yet.
• Only H/W for next week will be narrative final draft on Tuesday. We will continue working on these narratives Monday. Feel free to upload your narratives ove the w/end for comment if you would like to. THERE IS NO H/W sheet.
• Results of Author's Luncheon Comptetion will be given Monday.  Thank you to all those who entered.
• My class -Remember spelling test will be Monday.
• After Thanksgiving, you will have a two day workshop with a professional author. Over these two days, you will write a personal narrative related  to your own life. Be thinking of the topic you want to write about. It can be anything at all from your life. The event must be true. You must have a clear topic for the Monday after Thanksgiving.

Enjoy the weekened.

Southeast region Narratives - Feedback

Producing writing of a high quality almost NEVER happens the first time. I know for some of you, our mini conferences today were frustrating. The thought of starting over or rethinking a piece that you have already spent so much time on takes courage, a sense of determination, and a desire to strive for excellence. Quoting a phrase of the week, "two people look through the same bars, one sees mud, the other sees stars." Try to see the need to start over as a positive not a chore. We still have three days to work on this piece. I am confident you will all rise to this challenge!

Feel free to post portions of your narrative for peer review and comment.

Showing Not Telling - Day 3

Graham class did an excellent job today.

By Wyatt and Quin  (9)
The audience gradually silenced after a crazy applause that sounded like thunder. Good, thought William. If they liked the introduction, then the rhythm they were about to hear would ring in their ears forever.  Breathing in deeply, he began the symphony. The violins started with bows on strings which shocked the crowd with its beauty. The pianist, Sonja, was William's wife, so she brought more awe with her nimble fingers striking keys as swiftly as butterflies. Every living thing shook to the beat even the flies and mouses outside. The melody stunned even William who loved this creation of his own and the rhythm that brought him fame. It would pump in his blood forever.


By Mary Elliot and Gracie (9 1/2) - The perspective in this one is SUPERB!
The tips of Elizabeth's smooth fingers pressed down gently on my ivory white and ebony black keys. Elizabeth's soft touch made a beautiful ringing sound that seemed to come out of my soul.  The ringing felt like I was the only insrument in the orchestra. Earlier that Sunday morning, Elizabeth had polished me to perfection.  As we finished Beethoven's fifth symphony,  the volume rose in a cresendo. Suddenly, the audience made my heart soar as they gave me a standing ovation.


Don't forget:

• Last day for your author lunch competition entries is Friday.
• Make sure you have tackled the predicate and subject exercises on the blog for practice for Friday's test.

Showing not Telling - Day 2

                                                     By Guaruv and Kenndy (8 1/2)
Whirling winds outside the open window came and ribbed their skin like sandpaper. The florescent moon shimmered and reflected on the buildings class windows and below. On top of the hill, Jack and Jane gazed down at the town that seemed to have neen torn to shreds. The happiness that had once gazed over their faces had disappeared like a lion devouring its meal. In the course of two seconds, their mother had fallen and rolled down into the dark deceiving pond at the clang of midnight. Like angels in the sky, the stars glowed as Jack and jane were greeted with another gale of wind.

By Eliza and Mary Selwyn (8)

As I glance out of the window. the moon's gleem caught my eye. The pine tree's scent lingered in the air from the mountian around the moon. Standing out from all the other buildings was the church's mosaic window glowing from the light of the stars.  My window swayed back and forth from the wind of the night.  The old oak tree in the front of my window was almost gone from the various years it has lived.  My happiness shined out like the stars as a smile spread across my face. Contented, I closed my window and headed back into my dreams. (For dramatic effect and to close the story where it began - I added the last sentence)

Look at this video again to recap our lesson today on Sensory language. Will you be able to use sensory language in your narrative?

Showing Not Telling Competition - comments welcomed

By Bennett and Sophie Smith


The pioneers, Scott and Janis, stand as still as obedient soldiers. The skinny old man has as many wrinkles as an old oak tree. Janie’s blond hair shimmers in the graceful sunlight. Her dotted dress matches the beautiful curtains in their three story house. Beads of sweat trickled down Scott’s face after he had filled barrels with hay from the barn. Janie’s eye’s were as blue as the cloudless sky. Their solemn faces and dragging feet showed their unhappiness. A fragrant smell of burning wax filled the air.


By Lilly and Adit


The farmers, Robert and Beth, were staring diligently at their detached farm. With their hands shaking and their knees stuttering, the farmers tried to fight back their tears. The warm misty air was trying to recover from the devastating act that had just happened in the fields. The blazing hot fire had covered all one hundred acres of the land that they owned.