English was never my strong suit‚ but I always try my best although I can never really get a high grade in the class. It is really difficult for me to accomplish much in writing so I don’t really try to expend much of my energy on it. But‚ my main point is that when writing I do what I can and try to incorporate as much of the writing techniques as I can but it never really makes a difference. When teachers tell me to correct an error I would do so but somehow completely remove an element while doing
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According to John Steinbeck “It is the responsibility of the writer to expose our many grievous faults and failures and to hold up to the light our dark and dangerous dreams‚ for the purpose of improvement” Perhaps Steinbeck’s quote means‚ that the purpose of writer is to reveal ones faults and dreams for the goal of improvement. I believe Steinbeck’s quote is a valid remark. His words are so eloquently exemplified in‚ Unforgettable Miss Bessie by Carl T. Rowan and Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.
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In the novel‚ The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck‚ the protagonist‚ Tom Joad‚ takes on challenges for himself‚ and for the greater good of all people‚ thereby‚ in essence‚ becoming a hero. Steinbeck‚ during the mid-1930s‚ witnessed people living in horrendous conditions of extreme poverty due to the Great Depression and the agricultural disaster known as the Dust Bowl. He noticed that these people received no aid whatsoever from neither the state of California nor the federal government. The rage
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a writer develops their style‚ they learn to incorporate this style in all of their writings. Kurt Vonnegut has developed a very unique style using irony and symbolism along with multiple other rhetorical devices to introduce all of his‚ somewhat related‚ themes throughout his novels. The novels Cat’s Cradle and Slaughterhouse Five are exceptional examples of the consistency in Kurt Vonnegut’s writing. He leaves a mark on all of the texts he uses by using his unique style of black humor to get his
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The air flew past our heads‚ and screams echo through the air. The sun is beating down relentlessly‚ people’s cheeks are tinted red‚ partly from screaming‚ partly from the sun burns that are beginning to take form. Individuals of every age are jammed close together. You can hear them begging for an end to their terror‚ and other are embracing the adrenaline‚ breaking out in hysterical‚ maniacal laughter. Lights flash in front of our faces‚ blinding us. At this point‚ my feet are dangling‚ and I
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After waiting many hours in the airport lobby‚ the plane finally was ready at gate 42. I took one last look at where I had been sitting for the past two hours. As I walked toward the plane‚ I thought about all the terrible things and accidents that I had been through at my summer trip. Shake once I boarded the plane and tuck myself comfortably in the seat‚ the plane took off and started the journey toward the blue sky when I heard a rumble under my feet. I didn’t worry as I thought that it was
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The woman stares across the table anxiously‚ her son quietly staring at his hands beside her‚ the look on her husband’s face anything but pleased. The sun hangs midway over the house in the sky‚ and though it is just about time for dinner‚ no one seems to really want to eat any of the dishes she has prepared. A meat pudding sits untouched in the center of the table as if mocking her growling stomach. The silence is nearly unbearable‚ her feet tingling‚ her son obviously restless as well‚ and she
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While I was strolling on the beachfront‚ I happened upon a bottle under the slowly rolling waves. I picked it up‚ unscrewed the cork cap‚ took out the parchment coiled inside‚ and rolled it out on the fine sand to read the message. It was written in Spanish‚ but my years of education in the Spanish language had allowed me to effectively decipher it. To whomever finds this letter‚ I was one of the sailors aboard the Sanlúcar‚ the Spanish cargo ship that crashed near the shore of this accursed island:
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I awoke on a beach‚ completely soaked‚ with salt water up my nose‚ and sand in every uncomfortable place imaginable. Drenched black hair obscured my sight. Cold sea air chilled my bare back. If I didn’t move soon I would die of hypothermia. I stood on my trembling legs. The cold wind bit at my chest. The sky was dark and it was clear that it would rain soon. Broken boards and scattered crates littered the shore. Clearly I was on some kind of ship‚ but where I was or where I came from was lost to
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The Fallen It is a beautiful day in New York City. You can hear a symphony of sirens and songbirds as the sun’s radiant beams dance among the clouds. There are people everywhere laughing and enjoying the day. Suddenly everything changes. Then the sound of a deafening explosion echoes through the air. A plane has just struck one of the infamous Twin Towers. Fire is blazing above as thick clouds of smoke roll out of the top of the North Tower. Another thunderous blow shatters the atmosphere. Then
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