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Strengths of the writing process
Analysis of the writing process
The writing process part two
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Recommended: Strengths of the writing process
Writing has always been a natural ability of mine. Over the course of the past decade, a writing journey has taken me to where I am now; it has taken me to the start of an exceptional career that I wish to pursue. The career that I’m implying is sports journalism. Becoming a sports journalist has been a dream job for myself ever since I entered high school; however, my love of writing began years before now. From reading elementary sports novels by Matt Christopher and writing fictional sports stories as a kid, to eventually writing for the school newspaper this year, writing has been a momentous personal journey for me that has resulted in forming my career goal. In elementary school, I immediately became attached to reading fictional sports novels. By taking weekly trips to the school library, my love for reading about sports became an obsession. I couldn’t get enough of reading Matt Christopher and Mike Lupica books, as it seemed like every week, I was checking out a new one. The Kid who Only Hit Homers by Matt Christopher was a book that I read over and over, at least 150 times. …show more content…
When a game on television concluded, I would recreate live commentary and statistics based on that particular game. For example, I would watch an Atlanta Braves game on TV, and write about how Brian McCann hit a monster home run or how Tim Hudson threw a no-hitter, while exaggerating on events here and there in order to create an intense, yet entertaining story. Picturing the events and atmosphere of the game in my head assisted me in forming a better paper for my few readers, which consisted of my parents and my sister. Writing these fictional stories always put me in a positive mood; this is the main reason behind why I continued to want to
America, and the world love sport; there are hundreds of types, but the one thing that links them all together is the emotion. For players and fans alike, the emotional involvement with the game is what draws them to it; and for Americans, there is one sport in particular that ignites their passion – baseball. Baseball has been called “America’s pastime” for a reason; the suspense, drama, and pride wrapped up in this game have captivated generations. The poem, “Casey at the Bat” effectively captures the emotion tied into the sport of baseball. “Casey at the Bat” is a poem about the last inning of a Mudville baseball game. The team is down two points, and the first two of their batters had already been sent back to the dugout. However, luck seemed to be on their side, the next two batters reached base, and the best hitter on the team was up to bat; Casey. The confident-cocky Casey let the first two balls go by; both were strikes. Then the last pitch came, the crowed held their breath as Casey took a swing; and to quote the poem, “but there is no joy in Mudville -- mighty Casey has struck out.” There are two distinct psychological personalities present in this poem; these emotional beings are the audience and Casey. The actions and words of both shed light on each others personality and mental state during that final, historical inning.
“In the fifth grade, I wrote an essay about why I wanted to be a journalist,” Dr. Greer explains. “My teacher commented on how good I could write and encouraged me to follow my dreams.” Dr. Greer accredits this teacher to having a major impact on her decision to continue upon the pathway towards a journalism
In the early 20th century, baseball became the first professional sport to earn nationwide attention in America. Because it was our first national professional team sport, because of its immense popularity, and because of its reputation as being synonymous with America, baseball has been written about more than any other sport, in both fiction and non-fiction alike. As baseball grew popular so did some of the sportswriters who wrote about the game in the daily newspaper. Collectively, the sportswriters of the early 20th century launched a written history of baseball that transformed the game into a “national symbol” of American culture, a “guardian” of America’s traditional values, and as a “gateway” to an idealized past. (Skolnik 3) No American sport has a history as long—or as romanticized—as that of the game referred to as our “national pastime.”
No other common activity resonated so regularly and intensely in American life as [baseball] . . . Played virtually every day over a six-month span and tracked religiously in the mass media, baseball offered its partisans a steady diet of entertainment, drama, and controversy. Americans routinely interspersed their language with baseball metaphors. (36)
I stood yesterday afternoon engaged in the immense time consuming game of baseball. I stood there contemplating on what ideas, mainly about baseball, were being distorted and confused. Then it hit me…
My literacy journey began long before I had actually learned how to read or write. While recently going through baby pictures with my mother, we came across a photo of my father and I book shopping on the Logos boat, a boat that would come to my island every year that was filled with books for our purchasing. Upon looking at this picture, my mother was quite nostalgic and explained how they began my journey to literacy through experiences like this. My earliest memory of experiencing literature was as a small child. My parents would read bedtime stories to me each night before I went to bed. I vividly remember us sitting on the bed together with this big book of “365 bedtime stories for 365 days” and we read one story each day until we had
I looked forward to games, since I had played about every inning from Little League through sophomore year, and that became the status quo. So, in my junior year, at the start of the varsity season, with the snow from the long New England winter finally melted, I was ready. There was a senior who was already a skilled first baseman, but the cleats were on, my glove was ready. I had worked hard in the off-season, done well in practice and intra-squad scrimmages and looked forward to showing off my skills. On Opening Day, I sat. Then the next game, I sat. And so it began, the out-of-my-control waiting. Glancing over to first base, a range of unfamiliar emotions washed over me. Watching my team struggle defensively and offensively, with seemingly every ball going into the opposing mitt, while bright yellow numbers ticked up onto the visitor’s part of the scoreboard. I could only wait. Emotions of confusion, bitterness, and anxiety consumed me. The season wore on: another bus ride, another game, another
By the time Shadowmere and I wound our way through the mountain, the sun was setting. Purple and red rays reached from behind the clouds but we were too far in the brush of the woods to see the sun itself. I'm sure we could have made it to Dawnstar safely, but after the sun sets, the creatures get hungry and we were already both tired. So off the path a hundred steps or so, there was a grassy clearing with little mud where we set up a small camp.
Cherish The heavy clomp walking sound that came from deep inside of the forest. He wishes he had never heard it. He wishes he could just pretend nothing is happening. It stops not too far from him, but all he can hear is his heartbeat thumping so hard within his chest.
Baseball has and always will be part of my journey through life. Baseball teaches skill and character to young men around the world. The experiences I gained from a sport where failure is constant variable can never be truly explained in words. I have played the game since I was eight years old and still reconcile memories of what I have learned. As I write this essay, I did not notice how one sport I enjoy would give me lessons to use in everyday life.
I opened my eyes and was blinded by the piercing ray of light pointing right into my eyes, a massive headache was pounding my head, and all I could hear was the sound of a high pitched whistle. Until I hear something else. Voices? No. Not just that, but yells, cries for help, people sobbing.
It was a eerily cold night. The storm ripped at the sailor's face. The wind and sea howled almost calling for a soul on the ship to join those already lost in the sea. the crew ran to and from tying cargo down. the ship tossed like a toy boat in a pond and passengers stuggled to stand as their vessel rocked back and forth.
Looking into the sky, mesmerized by the sun, clouds, and birds flying above. Looking down at grass stained shoes containing aching feet. Feeling the unbearable heat from the sun angrily asking myself, “Why are we wearing long sleeves and pants in the middle of summer?” Then I hear it, the rare noise that contributes to the small percentage of action over the course of a few hours. The ding of a metal bat making contact with a highly elastic ball. The ball soars to left field. I watch the left fielder fumble with the ball and struggle to get it to second base. The runner is safe and the ball returns to the calloused hands of the only player who gets sufficient game interaction, the pitcher. I am back to staring at the sky, shoes, and grass, becoming frustrated with the heat and the inactivity of this national pastime called baseball. Along with most common ball sports, I had participated and enjoyed the social interactions yet they never clicked with me. They all appeared boring and inactive. Maybe it was my impatience or ADD. The only activities that grasped my attention and provided me with enough entertainment were
Considerations that are most important to me in choosing a career would be what skills I had available, whether I believed I would enjoy this career until retirement (pending a career change), and if I believed I could help people in whatever way that occupation would allow. The sportswriter career seems like an easy choice for myself, as I am very interested in the career itself and the ability to enlighten people on my opinions of sports (which I do on occasion by word of mouth). Sports, in any way, shape of form have probably been my favorite hobby since I was old enough to understand them. So the interest in the career is there, and so is my willingness to be involved in it. I believe I can help people in some small way by opening their eyes to different outlooks on certain items that may come up, such as if a new hitter can push a team over the top, or if the new coach isn’t doing his job correctly. I truly believe that sportswriters today have helped me better focus on sports and take a great deal more understanding with me as I watch and study them.
Storytelling is my passion. One moment I was reading stories, the next I was writing them. Everything from the smell of fried foods at the fair to a loud conversation at the dinner table inspired new stories. After years of scribbling in notebooks, I started my first cohesive story and told my dad I was going to be a writer. At first, he was supportive, but after a while, he told me the only way I’d ever be able to earn enough to make a living and write at the same time is becoming a journalist.