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| Good Introduction |
"Auntie, help me," cried my three-year-old cousin in my hands because of the punishment of beating her buttocks. [who's doint it? . . . , wanting to escape from being beaten on the buttocks.] back to top
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| Give an intro. to
the background. |
People always say that, "Let bygones be bygones," but I just can't let go of those moments in my childhood. back to top
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| It's not clear who're holding the dialogue. | "Hey, lady! How much is this per kilogram?"
"18." "Thank you! Here are your changes." "Mom, why don't you go home? It's ten thirty now. Why do you have to work so late?" "Because we have to make a living and we want to give you a better life." [," Mom said absent-mindedly, and then turned to the customer, ] "Thank you very much. Goodbye." "Oh. [,]" Tthe reason was accepted though it was not pretty easy to understand for a child. back to top
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Vivian, |
| "Auntie, help me," cried my three-year-old
cousin in my hands, because of the punishment of being beaten. She struggled,
but her power [she] was too weak to defend
herself. The living room was filled with her weeping sound.
"Stop! She will tell her mother!" My mom, the nanny of my two little cousins, came to her aid, trying to stop me from beating her. "So what? Let her tell her mother. That's how her mother has treated [Tense] my sisters, brother, and me when we were little kids. And you'll never know how her mother treated us, your dearest children, even more violently and pitilessly." My mom stared at me and so I stopped. I know it's unfair to say that because my mom is not able to make time go back and [or] change anything. People always say that, "Let bygones be bygones," but I just can't let go of those moments in my childhood. back to top
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Shouts of the fight started to be fill of [fill] the little living room where we five children were watching TV. * I did not know when and how the fight began, and soon the noise attracted not only my attention but also someone else's. Someone took care of us five children. Someone was much alike an unwilling guard. [else's--someone who took care of us like an unwilling guard.] |
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| Why not move the green part up to *?
Good description: Explain why the sounds were distant. What did you feel then? |
The living room seemed to be a market, being full of all kinds of sounds, the crying, the shouting, the scolding, the singing, and the laughing. Some were real and some were so distant that they seemed to belong to other world. "Quickly, line up and hands out straightly," demanded she and then she walked into the kitchen which was next to the living room and in which the fire of the stove was burning to stew the pork in the pot. Also, it was the place where she hanged the instrument of punishment¡Xa black elastic belt that people usually used to tie goods. Every time when I walked into the kitchen, it had become kind of a habit that I would [I made it a habit to] raise my head to see whether the black thing was there or not. I had wished for thousands of times that someday [omit] it would vanish one day. But my little wish never came true. At that time, I was too short and too weak to make [take it and throw] it out of my life forever. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I receive the punishment?" [who said this?] The TV was turned off and the room was quieter then, but the crying and the scolding remain echoing in the little space. "Because you five children cannot [should not] make any troubles when your parents are not at home. If you want to make troubles or fight with each other, then fight when your parents are around. You have to blame yourselves that you don't behave yourselves, I am not the one to blame. I am doing this for your own good. I am teaching you, not punishing you. Someday you will see this is a lesson, not a punishment." Yes, it is an unforgettable lesson. "Oh! Please stop! It hurts! Stop!" [Describe more what she dis, and how you felt.] Nobody would came to our aid, including out parents. They were selling fruits at the night market. back to top |
| Good description. But transition is unclear. Contrast this with what you felt. | Cars, motorbikes, and people had come
and left. Had the night come yet? Yes, it did come, and the stars on the
sky and on the streets had brightened it.
"Hey, lady! How much is this per kilogram?" "18." "Thank you! Here are your changes." "Mom, why don't you go home? It's ten thirty now. Why do you have to work so late?" "Because we have to make living and we want to give you a better life," answered she while packing fruits for the customers. "Thank you very much. Goodbye." "Oh." The reason was accepted though
it was not pretty easy to comprehend for a child.
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| Gap. Maybe you want to use *** again here? | It was late night, and the little stars
on the streets had disappeared in the darkness. Car, motorcycles, and people
had gone back to the places they were [omit]
belonged to. [a bit rep.] It was so empty
and silent. There were my parents being busy putting fruits back to the
boxes. My brother and I were still hanging around at the night market.
"Hey, let's have a bike race!" suggested my brother. The empty street was such a good place for racing, so I agreed. "Ready. One, two, three, go!"
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| Good description | I rode with all
my strength, and the wind was blowing to my face. My hair was flying; my
bike was flying, and I was flying too. I was free, and it seemed to me
that I was the only one existed in the world at that very moment. I was
like an arrow flying through the dark streets, and I was about to yell
out the joy and the excitement of such kind of freedom. It is freedom,
which my parents give me that stop me from blaming their absences in part
of my life, and I appreciate it very much. The freedom that allows me to
see more of the world and become independent from them.
"Kids, it's time to go home!" My parents had finished all their works, and we went home together. In about ten minutes, we were home. My dad pulled up the iron gate, and the house was dark. After entering the house, my mom turned on the lights, which scared darkness away. |
| Describe what you did at home to feel the warmth--or that you did nothing. | Being with my parents in the living room
at that time made me feel really at home. The warmth of that moment was
so unique and precious to me for I seldom felt that way in my childhood.
At that time, I felt nothing but happy, and I would forget all those unfair
treatments I have received at the same room. That special moment could
be the sweetest and most treasure thing in my life.
back to top
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Vivian, |
| "Auntie, help me," cried my three-year-old
cousin in my hands, because of the punishment of
being beaten [while she was spanked by me]. She struggled, but she
was too weak to defend herself. The living room was filled with her weeping
sound.
"Stop! She will tell her mother!" My mom, the nanny of my two little cousins, came to her aid, trying to stop me from beating her. "So what? Let her tell her mother. That's how her mother had treated my sisters, brother, and me when we were little kids. And you'll never know how her mother treated us, your dearest children, even more violently and pitilessly." My mom stared at me and [omit; add ,] so I stopped. I know it's unfair to say that because my mom is not able to make time go back and change anything. People always say that, "Let bygones be bygones," but I just can't let go of those moments in my childhood. |
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| Run-on Sentences |
Shouts of the fight started to fill the
little living room where we five kids were watching TV. I did not know
when and how the fight began, and soon the noise attracted not only my
attention but also someone else's--someone [who]
took care of us. Someone was much a [omit]
like an unwilling guard, attempting to make us obedient.
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| Transition: Why didn't you describe what
she did to make you obey more?
Same paragraph |
The little living
room seemed to be a circus, being
[omit] full of
all kinds of sounds, the crying, the shouting, the scolding, the singing,
and the laughing. Sounds mingled together and confused me. I did not know
whether I should cry for my sorrow or should laugh at the slapstick on
TV.
The evening in the late summer was really hot and uncomfortable. The room was getting hotter and hotter because of the dinner cooking in the kitchen. |
| Style: . . . as she walked into the kitchen. There, the fire of the stove was burning to stew the pork in the pot. There, too,she hanged the instrument of punishment¡X. . . | "Quickly, line up and hands out straightly,"
commanded she as she walked into the kitchen, which was next to the living
room and in which the fire of the stove was burning to stew the pork in
the pot. Also, it was the place where she hanged the instrument of punishment¡Xa
black elastic belt that people usually used to tie goods.
Every time when I walked into the kitchen, I made it a habit to raise my
head to see whether the black thing was there or not. I had wished for
thousands of times that it would vanish one day. But my little wish never
came true. At that time, I was too short and too weak to throw it away
and stop it from interfering my life.
"I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I receive the punishment [be punished]?" I have forgotten that who made such a brave remark like this. The TV was turned off and the room was quieter then, but the crying and the scolding remain echoing in the little space. "Because you five children are not allowed to make any troubles when your parents are not at home. If you want to make troubles or fight with each other, then fight when your parents are around. You have to blame yourselves that you don't behave yourselves, I am not the one to blame. I am doing this for your own good. I am teaching you, not punishing you. Someday you will see this is a lesson, not a punishment." Yes, indeed, it is an unforgettable lesson. As she was delivering her speech, she beat our palms one by one with the black elastic belt. The pain was like a fire burning my hands, and it not only hurt me a lot but also heated the grievance in me towards her. "Oh! Please stop! It hurts! Stop!"The cry did not stop her, and the pain continued. It was useless to cry for help because nobody would come to our aid, including our parents. They were selling fruits at the night market. |
| Style:
You tend to use "and" to connect sentences. Try to vary your sentence
structure.
Context: describe where the fruit stand was. |
[Context]
Cars, motorbikes, bicycles, and people had come and left. Where
were they going? I had no idea, their homes probably. Had the night come
yet? Yes, I was sure that it did come, and [for]
the stars on the sky and on the streets had brightened it. Those fruits
[under the light bulbs] looked so
beautiful and shiny under the light, and there were my parents busy with
their work. I was too shy and too little to be a help of them, and
I could only stand there and watched them. [Too shy
and little to a help to them, I could only stand there and watched them.]
[Describe more what they did.]
"Hey, lady [Obasan]! How much is this per kilogram?" "18." "Thank you! Here are your changes." "Mom, why don't you go home? It's ten thirty now. Why do you have to work so late?" I interrupted my mom with the inquiry that had troubled me for a long time. |
| 1.
Don't use "so" without "that" except in dialogue.
2. |
"Hey, let's have a bike race!" suggested my brother. The empty street was such a good place for racing, so I agreed. "Ready. One, two, three, go!" |
| Transition:
a paragraph that shows how you started to be appreciative. @ A new paragraph on Freedom: In order to make the reader understand this kind of freedom, you should give more examples. |
I rode with all my strength, and the wind
was blowing to my face. My hair was flying; my bike was[omit]
flying, and I was flying[omit] too. I
was free, and it [omit] It seemed to
me that I was the only one existed[omit] in
the world at that very moment. I was like an arrow flying through the dark
streets, and I was about to yell out the joy and the
[omit] excitement of such kind of freedom.
@ It is freedom,[omit]
which my parents give [tense] me that
stop me from blaming their absences in part of my life, and I appreciate
it very much. The freedom that allows me to see more
of the world and become independent from them.
[Add: e.g. how you had this kind of freedom elsewhere or in other ways.] |
| Transition or *** ? | "Kids, it's time to go home!"
My parents had finished all their works [work], and we went home together. In about ten minutes, we were home. My dad pulled up the iron gate, and the house was dark. After entering the house, my mom turned on the lights, which scared darkness away. Though I wanted to stay as longer as possible with my parents, but I could not because a little kid like me could not go to bed too late. [Still, I savored the moment little by little, like a kid licking at a lollipop. --Drescribe a bit what you did, or that you did not do anything but lay on bed.] Being with my parents in the living room at that time made me feel really at home. The warmth of that short moment was so unique and precious to me for I rarely felt that way in my childhood. At that moment, I felt nothing but happy [happiness], and I would forget all those unfair treatments I have received at the same room. That special moment could be the sweetest and most treasure [treasurable] thing in my life. I had a good dream that night. back to top |
Vivian, |