Young Writers Society

It's my first college essay and I really wanna get an A, lol.

...

B.M.W.
Writing and Rhetoric I
January 20, 2007

North Carolina captured the younger years of my life, when I was free to roam and do as I please without a care in the world. Our home was lodged in the back of a cul-de-sac, surrounded by magical woods. My friends and I would journey into the sea of woods and transform our setting into somewhere or something else. We could be wizards with pet dragons, heroes with extraordinary powers, or knights protecting a fortress.

The ever-changing scene was beautiful. The spring brought bright green leaves that flooded the tops of the trees and spectacular sunny days. The mornings were filled with the songs of early birds singing. During the day, woodpeckers hammered against the bark with a peaceful rhythm.
When winter arrived, a blanket of white snow covered the trees and ground.

But there was something about the fall that made it the best season of all. Nature’s floor was covered with orange, yellow and red. When the celestial, whistling wind hit my face, I felt calm and relaxed. Something in the air smelt different, that I can still recall to this day, when fall comes around. The nostalgic smell fills me with endless memories of those woods and my friends. I remember wandering around the woods, building “castles” out of pine -needles. We’d pile the pine-needles to the side and make them into “walls.” The walls were short and thick, but our imagination allowed us to view them as enormous and mighty. We would ally ourselves with one another, as if we were in a war, and we’d pretend to fight against each other with pinecones and sticks. My parents weren’t too pleased when they saw what we did to their properety. The woods happened to be rooted with poison ivy, and all of us got rashes. My dad ended up resetting the pine needles, with gloves on, of course. Despite the itching and burning, the experience was one I never regretted.

Today, I no longer have the luxury of frolicking around in the woods with my friends. Today, I live in Ohio where my yard is scare and barely any trees can be seen. Today, I have responsibilities to take care of and work to complete. Today, my old friends are gone, and new friends have replaced them. These new friends have no desire to run around in the autumn wind. Nor do I have any desire to fulfill these old dreams.

My life is now filled with complex tasks and constant stress. I must maintain my grades, finish my reports, and complete my homework. At times, I feel like I’m trapped in a constant vortex of work. I still have my free time, but not as much as I did back when I was in North Carolina. These new expectations of me are at the same time blissful and burdensome.

My free time is essentially spent different today than it was long ago. Instead of wandering the woods making up fairy tales, I often enjoy scribbling in a notebook. I write fiction stories that involve mystery or horror. I may not be outside experiencing my random adventures, but my unique imagination surely lives on in my stories.

Other than writing, I still enjoy hanging out with friends. We enjoy watching movies, playing card games or playing video games. Things are different now that I live
in Ohio.

Burdens also come with my transformation into adulthood. I must go to work four or five times a week in order to obtain money which I will store away for future finances. The long hours can be cruel and often boring. At school, I must achieve perfection on every homework grade and I’m required to study for every test. Any score below an A makes me wince and feel as if I’ve failed horribly, because I know I can do better. Stress, something I never expereiced as a child in the innocent woods of North Carolina, begins to take its toll. But I learn to adapt and work through the constant obstacles. I begin to learn what it means to be an adult.

While these expectations can be overly demanding at times, at least I have control over my life now. I feel as if I am personally carving my future. I’m creating my very own “walls of pine-needles”. It feels amazing to say “I now control my life.” I’m no longer confined and babied by my parents to the extent I was back then. My life is now in my hands.

Thou my experiences in North Carolina were fun and adventurous, part of life is growing up and maturing. Ohio, although just a state, has become more to me. It’s a landmark, a place where I’ve transformed and progressed in my life. When everything comes to an end, it’s the journey and the process of change that makes it all worth while and wonderful.

Hey Doc.


To make this clearer? Clear it up - you need to make a sharp impression, I assume - so say what needs to be said, neatly.

North Carolina captured the younger years of my life, when I was free to roam and do as I pleased [s]without a care in the world[/s]. Our home was lodged in the back of a cul-de-sac, surrounded by magical [magical? how so? don't TELL it, let the following paragraphs SHOW it] woods. My friends and I would journey into the sea of [s]woods[/s] trees and transform our setting into somewhere or something else.

Now, the above doesn't have extra adjectives reitierating what's said, or what may be said soon. Don't over-do it. Don't try to put everything in at once.

We could be wizards with pet dragons, heroes with extraordinary powers, or knights protecting a fortress.

You may be more vivid if you can give examples. What sort of wizards were you thinking of when a 'kid'? Heroes? Who did you look up to? At the moment, this is vague. Knights, wizards...oy, but that's a cop-out to the blandness of nostalgic childhood.

The ever-changing scene was beautiful.

How was it ever-changing? Tell us seasons, tell us summer into winter...don't leave us with 'ever-changing'. ^_^

The spring brought bright green leaves that flooded the tops of the trees and spectacular sunny days. The mornings were filled with the songs of early birds singing. During the day, the woodpeckers' hammer[s]ed[/s]ing against the bark was a peaceful rhythm.

Ah, you see? Here you're showing us the change. Kill your first sentence. It kills your description by being drab. ^_^''

When winter arrived, a blanket of white snow covered the trees and ground.

Again, the describing does more for your essay than the telling. For a college essay, you're trying to give a sharp impression of who you are, along with showing that you can write, yes?

When the celestial, whistling wind hit my face, I felt calm and relaxed.

You're a bit trigger-happy on adjectives. Is the wind truly 'celestial'? If so, what is a heavenly wind like? You may want to drop most of these adjectives. Rather, set up how you felt in relation to the wind, to the place, to the time - and compare it to your experience now.

Today, I no longer have the luxury of frolicking around in the woods with my friends. Today, I live in Ohio where my yard is scare and barely any trees can be seen.

Frolicking? A good word. Though under the circumstances, is 'frolicking' what you and your friends did? 'Playing' may be more to the point, and less flighty. ^_~

Today, my old friends are gone, and new friends have replaced them. These new friends have no desire to run around in the autumn wind. Nor do I have any desire to fulfill these old dreams.

My life is now filled with complex tasks and constant stress. I must maintain my grades, finish my reports, and complete my homework. At times, I feel like I’m trapped in a constant vortex of work. I still have my free time, but not as much as I did back when I was in North Carolina. These new expectations of me are at the same time blissful and burdensome.

So, 'tis all hard work and bleaker landscape now. But what made you change? Is it only the landscape? is it the way you see things now, outside influences?

It's called growing up. But one can make a conscious choice to grow up, or just go dully with the flow. It would make the contrast more immediate, perhaps, if you considered that here.

My free time is essentially spent different today than it was long ago. Instead of wandering the woods making up fairy tales, I often enjoy scribbling in a notebook. I write fiction stories that involve mystery or horror. I may not be outside experiencing my random adventures, but my unique imagination surely lives on in my stories.

A good interjection of where and how playing have carried over into telling stories. You may want to make the connection earlier. Compare your games to stories in the woods, or some such thing.

Other than writing, I still enjoy hanging out with friends. We enjoy watching movies, playing card games or playing video games. [s]Things are different now that I live
in Ohio.[/s]

Don't repeat yourself unnecassarily. You've show and said things are different. Need to be repeated? o0

Burdens also come with my transformation into adulthood. I must go to work four or five times a week in order to obtain money which I will store away for future finances. The long hours [s]can be[/s] [can be? or ARE? aren't they boring? ] cruel and often boring. At school, I must achieve perfection on every homework grade and I’m required to study for every test. Any score below an A makes me wince and feel as if I’ve failed horribly, because I know I can do better

Be direct. And this again, gets distant - as if you haven't thought of it clearly enough, or don't want to approach in any closer. Give examples, rather than abstract any-times. A test you worked for nights to study for; a day at work that was bloody awful...?

Stress, something I never expereiced as a child in the [s]innocent[/s] woods of North Carolina, begins to take its toll. But I learn to adapt and work through the constant obstacles. I begin to learn what it means to be an adult.

Ach, 'woods' aren't innocent. Though your experience in them might have been. ^_~

Tense change here may help as well. Try I've begun to learn... and I've leanred to adapt...

While these expectations can be overly demanding at times, at least I have control over my life now. I feel as if I am personally carving my future. I’m creating my very own “walls of pine-needles”. It feels amazing to say “I now control my life.” I’m no longer confined and babied by my parents to the extent I was back then. My life is now in my hands.

Another aspect of growing up. ^_^ Good, to insert it. In fact, it is a good near-conclusion; and the allusion to the pine-needles connects it to your beginning.

Though my experiences in North Carolina were fun and adventurous, part of life is growing up and maturing. Ohio, although just a state, has become more to me. It’s a landmark, a place where I’ve transformed and progressed in my life. When everything comes to an end, it’s the journey and the process of change that makes it all worth while and wonderful.

Typo - "though". And an admirable finish/conclusion. Your last sentence is weak though...ah well, worthwile and wonderful. It is 'the journey and the process of change' that will (perhaps?) carry me through life? What really matters about that process? What makes it wonderful?

--

All in all, you have the material. Sharpening it to a bit more keen point will make it an A, I think. ^_^


IMP

I think it deserves an A.

Is this a real experience? If so, think up some ways to describe the childhood setting without the stereotypical "birds singing, sun shining in summer, blankets of snow in winter, we played in the woods". It sounds cliche and unreal. I live in the country, but I never here early birds singing, because the grass is all wet in the early morning in summer, so I don't usually step outside. The sun shines, yes, but a good summer storm is always building, and the focus of any description about the weather would be on its accumulation. Yes, the a blanket of snow covers the trees and ground, but everyone says that. Maybe you could talk instead about the sterility that comes with the first permanant frost, or the drab, dusty grey-brown color of the stretches of trees, or the way one can tell if it's really cold by one's shoes squeaking on the snow like it's dry glass under wet sneakers. Put real memories into this, don't just look for the memories that fit with the stereotypes.

Keep working on it - you'll get there. And don't be bummed out if you don't get an A on your first essay - some professors grade hard, and college, too, is supposed to be a journey; if you started with an A, where would you grow to?