Sensory descriptions

This is used for more of the senses. For maybe what you hear, see smell, or even touched. Examples:

The tears dripped from my eyes. (This describes how I felt and what I was doing.)


I walked into the church and my stomach began to ache. (How I felt when something happened.)

Writing in italics

This is a way that the reader reads the story differently and makes it stressed when read. Examples:

When is the funeral going to be? I did this because it is one of my thoughts.

Dialog and gesture

I chose to use some gesture in my dialog. Here are some examples:


I heard a big thumping on my door. "Are you okay Bailey?" My mom said walking into my room.


"Yah I am fine" I told her not telling the truth.

I am having a hard time coming up with a title. Write some ideas that you might have on your scavenger hunt paper.

-Thanks

Draft #2 (a few chandes and techniques used)

I walked into church feeling worse than ever. I saw many pictures of him and it made me even more sad. I looked around and I saw my sad lonely Nana talking with a bunch of my Papa’s friends. My Aunt walked in front of the whole church and began telling stories about her dad.
* * *
The tears dripped from my eyes after my mom got a call from my dad saying that my Papa had passed away. I was sobbing so much it felt like there was a lake at the bottom of my cheeks.
I got home still crying inside trying to take my mind off of the sad thought. I soon found out that he had died from a terrible case of cancer. Struggling with it months before I struggled to hold in the tears but they slowly came through. It was a beautiful summer day and I don't know how anything that sad could have happened. The summer of July 17, 2004. Sitting as still and quiet as possible in my room I tried to take my mind off of the sadness. I started to think. When is the funeral going to be? I was too sad to want to know. He was the first of my closest family members to pass away. I heard a big thumping on my door. "Are you okay Bailey?” my mom said in a sweet voice as she walked in my room. "Yah I'm fine." I told her not telling her the truth. I put my head down on my pillow and settled down for a nap which surely cleared my mind.
I walked into the church and my stomach began to ache like a big rumble of thunder. I have to make through the funeral I told myself a million times. But the sad thought of hat word didn’t make it any better. I looked around the church and saw familiar faces and faces that I had never seen before. The streaming sunlight shined through the glass windows making the pictures of my Papa stand out even more. I took my seat a little bit far from the church and sat with my brother. Is he feeling the same way that I am? My Aunt walked in front of the church and began a story. Here it goes I thought to myself.
I was crying every where now using many tissues. From stories that my aunt and dad were telling I started to think of some of my own stories I remembered of him. When we went to Hawaii, the picture of him holding me as a baby, when he always sat on his green recliner, what a great runner he was. But most of all, the smile he always had on his face. Unfortunately he never got to see me play softball at my best.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears rained from my eyes. It hurt more than ever. I set my head on my mom's shoulder as she comforted me and she wiped my rosy red wet cheeks. After the service I felt a lot better. Everybody kept coming up to me and saying "Is that your Papa?" And I would happily and proudly answer "Yes."
Five years have passed now. I still think of my Papa time and time again. Seeing a big smile on his face on a picture in my room. But I can still picture him in my head and all the great times we had together.

"Hot Spot"

Example:

I looked around the quiet church and saw people that I had never seen before and people that I had never seen before. The streaming sunlight was shining through the glass windows. When my Aunt walked in front of the church a began telling stories about my Papa before I knew it I had a very big handful of tissues in my hand. From the happy wonderful stories that my Aunt and my Dad told I started to think of some stories of my one. ........ (continued)

Flash Back

I walked into the Church feeling worse than ever. I peered around and saw my lonely Nana still entirely sad from my Papa's death. I took my seat and I saw my Aunt my walk on stage and she began telling stories about my Papa.

I used this technique as a start to my meoir as I walked inot the church. Then I flashed back to where I found out that my Papa had died. This keeps the reader wondering what happened.

Gesture

Example:

I heard a big thumping noise on the door of my bead room."Are you okay she asked?" Walking into my room. "Yah I am fine" I replied not telling the truth.

Types of Leads

Setting the Mood:
Minutes Passed by. My eyes watered. My hands started to sweat. I felt worse than ever. The service was about to start.

Fact:
Most People do not get to spend a lot of time with their grandparents. Lucky for me I got to spend time with my Papa until I was 7. But it all happened on July 17, 2004.

Thoughts/ spoken words:
I walked into the church felling worse than ever. I peered around and saw my lonely Nana still entirely sad from my Papa's death. I took my seat and saw my Aunt walk on stage and began telling stories about my Papa.

Rough Draft #1

The tears dripped from my eyes after my mom got a call from my dad saying that my Papa had passed away. I was sobbing so much it felt like there was a lake at the bottom of my cheeks.
I got home still crying inside trying to take my mind off of the sad thought. I soon found out that he had died from a terrible case of cancer. Struggling with it months before I tried to hold in the tears but they slowly came through. It was a beautiful summer day and I don't know how anything that sad could have happened. July 17,2004.
Sitting as still and quiet as a log in my room I tried to take my mind off of the sadness. I started to think. When is the funeral going to be? I was to sad to want to know. He was the first of my closest family members to pass away. I heard a big thumping on my door. My mom came in my door. "Are you okay Bailey?"She asked in a very sweet voice. "Yah I'm fine." I told her not telling her the truth. I put my head down on my pillow and settled down for a nap which surely cleared my mind.

I walked into church feeling worse than ever. I say many pictures of him and it made me very sad. I looked around and Is aw my Nana talking with a bunch of my Papa'sn friends. My Aunt walked infront of the whole church and began telling stories about her dad. I was crying every where now using many tissues. From stories that my aunt and dad were telling I started to think of some of my own stories I remembered of him. When we went to Hawaii, him always sitting in his recliner, what a great runner he was. But most of all, the smile he always had on his face.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. It hurt more than ever. I set my head on my mom's shoulder as she comforted me and she whiped my rosey red wet cheeks. All of these pictures of him reminded me of pictures of us. Him holding me as a baby. A picture I still have in my scrapbook. Me and my Papa in a picture hugging at my first soccer game. Unfortunenley he never got the chance to see me play softball at my best. After the service I felt a lot better. Everbody kept coming up to me and saying "Is that your Papa?" And I would happily and proudley answer "Yes."

Five years have passed now. I still think of my Papatime and time again. Seeing a big smile on his face on a picture in my room. But I can still picture him in my head and all the great times we had together.