discussion
Question # 48751 | English | 1 year ago |
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$10 |
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Part 1:
Read the student essays, consider the narrative structure we have been discussing, and answer the following questions for one of the essays in a post of a minimum of 250 words:
- What background information does the writer provide?
- Why is that information necessary?
- What would the impact have been if he/she had not provided some of the background information until later in the essay?
- How long is the event that takes place?
- How do you know?
- At what point does the writer slow down the narrative pace? Why? What is the impact?
- What inner thoughts do they include? How does this impact readers? What would we have missed if we didn't have this information?
- Do you have any additional comments or observations?
- For the "Night of the Intruder" essay: how did you feel when you found out who the intruder was?
Part 2
Reply to two of your peers. Each reply to your peers should be a minimum of 150 words:
- Was this the essay that you wrote about in your post?
- In what ways did your peer's post help you develop a better understanding of either the example essay?
- In what ways did your peer's post help you develop a better understanding of the structure of a narrative essay?
- Include any other observations or insights.
he Night of the Intruder
As a newly divorced woman in my late twenties, I was still a bit uncomfortable
about being the only adult in the house, especially at night. Whatever happened now, it
would be up to me to take care of my two young children and myself. There was no longer
a husband around to take charge. Our three dogs gave me some sense of security, as they
were protective of us and obedient. I liked knowing that my little watchdog pack was out
in the backyard, on duty.
One night around 9:30, I was reading in the living room, and my kids were asleep
in their bedrooms. Suddenly I heard an unidentifiable sound coming from the kitchen. It
was not a normal kitchen sound of the refrigerator motor, or a dripping faucet. It was more
like a slurp. My heart pounded as I slowly set down my book and tiptoed toward the
darkened kitchen. Peering through the open doorway I saw something that caused me to
clap my hand over my mouth in order to stifle a scream. In the fruit bowl that sat on our
kitchen table was a large rat, munching noisily on an orange, its long, pink tail draped over
the rim of the bowl. The rat turned to look at me, then jumped off the table, scampered past
my scrunched up toes, scooted around the corner, and slipped behind the couch.
I ran to my bedroom and pulled out the baseball bat that was hidden under my bed,
right next to the small dagger in its leather sheath that was also stashed there. I had placed
these weapons strategically ever since my husband had moved out. I took the protection of
my kids and myself very seriously and felt that I was armed and ready for any intruders.
As I hurried back to the living room with baseball bat in hand, the rat scurried past
me, and to my horror ran through my daughter’s bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. I
As a newly divorced woman in my late twenties, I was still a bit uncomfortable
about being the only adult in the house, especially at night. Whatever happened now, it
would be up to me to take care of my two young children and myself. There was no longer
a husband around to take charge. Our three dogs gave me some sense of security, as they
were protective of us and obedient. I liked knowing that my little watchdog pack was out
in the backyard, on duty.
One night around 9:30, I was reading in the living room, and my kids were asleep
in their bedrooms. Suddenly I heard an unidentifiable sound coming from the kitchen. It
was not a normal kitchen sound of the refrigerator motor, or a dripping faucet. It was more
like a slurp. My heart pounded as I slowly set down my book and tiptoed toward the
darkened kitchen. Peering through the open doorway I saw something that caused me to
clap my hand over my mouth in order to stifle a scream. In the fruit bowl that sat on our
kitchen table was a large rat, munching noisily on an orange, its long, pink tail draped over
the rim of the bowl. The rat turned to look at me, then jumped off the table, scampered past
my scrunched up toes, scooted around the corner, and slipped behind the couch.
I ran to my bedroom and pulled out the baseball bat that was hidden under my bed,
right next to the small dagger in its leather sheath that was also stashed there. I had placed
these weapons strategically ever since my husband had moved out. I took the protection of
my kids and myself very seriously and felt that I was armed and ready for any intruders.
As I hurried back to the living room with baseball bat in hand, the rat scurried past
me, and to my horror ran through my daughter’s bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. I
watched as his tail disappeared under the dust ruffle of her bed. I quickly entered her room,
shutting the door behind me, then closed the door that led to my son’s adjoining bedroom.
Now at least I had the rat trapped in one room.
Not wanting to frighten my daughter, I tried to gently awaken her, but she just
rolled over. Trying again, I said, “Come on, Angela, let me carry you out to the living
room for a few minutes.”
“No,” she moaned sleepily and burrowed into her covers.
She ignored my further pleas, so I said, “Angela. There’s a rat under your bed.”
She instantly flew up into my arms with a shriek. We eased out the door, making
sure nothing was exiting along with us, and I deposited her safely on the couch. I rushed
back to her room, closed the door again, and rousted the rat out from under the bed. It
proceeded to lead me on a frenzied chase all over that small bedroom. Up the dresser,
down the wall, behind the toy box, up the curtains it went. There seemed to be no surface
that it couldn’t climb or run across. I kept after it with the wildly swinging bat, crashing
down on the furniture, smashing into the walls, banging on the roof of the metal dollhouse.
Periodically over the commotion I could hear Angela scream, “Did you get it?” and I’d yell
back, “Not yet!”
Meanwhile, my son Joey, separated from the mayhem only by a hollow bedroom
door, slept soundly. This didn’t surprise me, since this is the kid who I had to wake up
from his naps by vacuuming under his crib.
After more than an hour of breathless pursuit and still no capture, it occurred to me.
shutting the door behind me, then closed the door that led to my son’s adjoining bedroom.
Now at least I had the rat trapped in one room.
Not wanting to frighten my daughter, I tried to gently awaken her, but she just
rolled over. Trying again, I said, “Come on, Angela, let me carry you out to the living
room for a few minutes.”
“No,” she moaned sleepily and burrowed into her covers.
She ignored my further pleas, so I said, “Angela. There’s a rat under your bed.”
She instantly flew up into my arms with a shriek. We eased out the door, making
sure nothing was exiting along with us, and I deposited her safely on the couch. I rushed
back to her room, closed the door again, and rousted the rat out from under the bed. It
proceeded to lead me on a frenzied chase all over that small bedroom. Up the dresser,
down the wall, behind the toy box, up the curtains it went. There seemed to be no surface
that it couldn’t climb or run across. I kept after it with the wildly swinging bat, crashing
down on the furniture, smashing into the walls, banging on the roof of the metal dollhouse.
Periodically over the commotion I could hear Angela scream, “Did you get it?” and I’d yell
back, “Not yet!”
Meanwhile, my son Joey, separated from the mayhem only by a hollow bedroom
door, slept soundly. This didn’t surprise me, since this is the kid who I had to wake up
from his naps by vacuuming under his crib.
After more than an hour of breathless pursuit and still no capture, it occurred to me.
to bring the dogs in to help. Through the closed bedroom door, I called to Angela to let the
dogs in from the backyard, which she promptly did. I pulled them quickly into the room
with me, shutting the door behind them. Angela returned to her post on the couch.
Our corgi, Shadow, and our cockapoo, Tony, set to work immediately, sniffing
around the perimeter of the room. But Jack, the black Labrador, spotted his reflection in the
full-length mirror and let out a threatening growl at himself. Obviously, he wasn’t going to
be much help. In fact, it looked like he was getting ready to lift his leg on the mirror, so I
shoved him out of the room.
Suddenly, Tony spied the rat as it ran behind the bookcase. Now that he knew
what he was hunting for, there was no stopping that dog. He dove fearlessly after the rat,
no matter where it went, while I continued to flail at it whenever it was within range.
Although now I had to be careful not to smack Shadow or Tony by mistake as I aimed for
the rat. At one point as it ran across the top of the dresser, I jabbed at it with the end of the
bat. In doing so, I pinned it up against the wall by its tail. The sound of its little toenails
scratching frantically against the wall as it dangled there, running in place, made me scream
with revulsion. Tony then became even more determined in his efforts. We continued to
pursue the rat around and around the room until finally on one of my swings, I connected,
and sent the rat flying through the air. As it landed, Tony grabbed it up into his mouth,
gave it a quick fatal crunch, and dropped it on the floor where it lay, dead.
“Woo-hoo!” I hollered, “Good boy, Tony!” I patted him, then picked up the rat by
its tail and carried it triumphantly out of the room, the dogs trotting happily alongside.
Angela peeked out from under the blanket. “Yay, Mommy,” she sighed with relief.
with me, shutting the door behind them. Angela returned to her post on the couch.
Our corgi, Shadow, and our cockapoo, Tony, set to work immediately, sniffing
around the perimeter of the room. But Jack, the black Labrador, spotted his reflection in the
full-length mirror and let out a threatening growl at himself. Obviously, he wasn’t going to
be much help. In fact, it looked like he was getting ready to lift his leg on the mirror, so I
shoved him out of the room.
Suddenly, Tony spied the rat as it ran behind the bookcase. Now that he knew
what he was hunting for, there was no stopping that dog. He dove fearlessly after the rat,
no matter where it went, while I continued to flail at it whenever it was within range.
Although now I had to be careful not to smack Shadow or Tony by mistake as I aimed for
the rat. At one point as it ran across the top of the dresser, I jabbed at it with the end of the
bat. In doing so, I pinned it up against the wall by its tail. The sound of its little toenails
scratching frantically against the wall as it dangled there, running in place, made me scream
with revulsion. Tony then became even more determined in his efforts. We continued to
pursue the rat around and around the room until finally on one of my swings, I connected,
and sent the rat flying through the air. As it landed, Tony grabbed it up into his mouth,
gave it a quick fatal crunch, and dropped it on the floor where it lay, dead.
“Woo-hoo!” I hollered, “Good boy, Tony!” I patted him, then picked up the rat by
its tail and carried it triumphantly out of the room, the dogs trotting happily alongside.
Angela peeked out from under the blanket. “Yay, Mommy,” she sighed with relief.
Glancing up at the clock, I saw it was now 11pm.
