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Emily-Page Rasmussen. Ms. McGee AP English 1A. Table of Contents. Letter to the reader Bucket List Six word memoir Written assignment 1 Written assignment 2 Additional assignment My Soul Elementary school writing Elementary school writing Middle school writing. Letter to the Reader.
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Emily-Page Rasmussen Ms. McGee AP English 1A
Table of Contents • Letter to the reader • Bucket List • Six word memoir • Written assignment 1 • Written assignment 2 • Additional assignment • My Soul • Elementary school writing • Elementary school writing • Middle school writing
Letter to the Reader Click the file to hear a magical voice! don’t worry, it won’t explode. Well, maybe.
Bucket List 13. Witness a historical event 14. Backpack around Europe 15. Put a prayer note in the Wailing Wall 16. Go on a safari 17. Have a snowball fight on the Lawn of UVA Take a nap on a park bench in Paris 19. Live in a foreign country 20. Meet a random guy in Europe 21. Have either dyed hair or crazy-colored streaks 22. Quit a bad job in the most dramatic fashion possible 23. Be in a play 24. Go scuba diving 25. Write a novel • Meet J.K. Rowling • Go to Venice and ride in a gondola • Fly an airplane • See the Wimbledon Finals • Get married and have kids • Do the “Duval Crawl” in Key West • Visit all 50 states • Go on a mission trip to a foreign country • Own a dog (German shepherd or a golden retriever) • Have pets named Atticus and Mr. Darcy • Convince a Brit that I too am British • Live in New York City
Six Word Memoir HakunaMatata- it means no worries! Click The Pic
Written Assignment 1 This is just to say I forgot To take the dog For a walk That is why He is vibrating Full of energy Forgive me Glee was on I love you I love the dog But they were singing
Written Assignment 2 Click to see document
Written Assignment 2 Cont’d Click to see document
Additional Assignment Discuss something you secretly like but pretend not to, or vice versa. My dad is a dork. (It had to be said. Sorry, Dad.) He's corny, finds puns hilarious, revels in slapstick humor and delights in wordplay. His jokes are so lame they actually cause physical wincing. As in, "oh my, who would actually find that funny? Why, why are you laughing so hard?" After almost every joke, every "witticism" Dad throws out, I can usually be seen rolling my eyes, sighing in exasperation, shaking my head, or burying my face in my hands. The latter is mostly in public, because—big surprise—Dad finds it hilarious to publicly humiliate me. Dad takes great offense to my disdain for his jokes. It's an off day when I don't get Dad declaring, "That's it! No more jokes for you. You're cut off!" These comedy strikes usually last half an hour, tops. Then it's yet another pun, followed by a delighted, booming Dad laugh, tickled by his own wit. All of this is undeniably true. My dad is incurably lame. But something else must be admitted: I have the exact same sense of humor. I love those jokes. Wordplay? Hilarious. Puns? Even better. My dad knows this, I think. He is very aware that I could not go on without his dorky comedy. After all, my uncontrollable laughing at the various witticisms of The Lion King is proof enough that my sense of humor is that of a seven-year-old. (Really, though, "cheetahs never prosper"? Classic!) I would never live it down, though, if I admitted outright my love for Dad's offbeat humor. And so he pretends not to see my chuckling, even as I roll my eyes.
Elementary School We used to make books like this all the time in elementary school; they were bound and everything. This was not one of my more imaginative stories, but I chose it because I admire the simplicity. I named the characters after my parents, and though I actually have no idea how to work a yo-yo, I took creative license and wrote down what was probably random directions. I really, really love these illustrations.
Elementary School I honestly thought that I hadn’t finished the story. I looked on the next few pages, expecting to find the real end to the story. But no, apparently second chances are not a part of stories with morals. I must have learned my lessons from the Brothers Grimm, because once that leopard turned down help, he was a goner. I’m sure I got my inspiration for this story from the story about the lion with a thorn in his paw, who gets help from a mouse. However, those characters end happily; my leopard dies, while the mouse’s self-esteem is torn down and never restored. Huh. I also enjoyed how Amanda Askew made random corrections that weren’t actually necessary at all. This included changing my mouse from a boy to a girl, correcting “heartily” to “heartilly,” and changing “hour” to “hour,” “minutes” to “minutes,” and “mean” to “mean.”
Middle School Best Friends’ Battle “George Washington is scum! He couldn’t tell a battle from a party!” Will Harley shouted into George Thomas’ face. “You’re wrong! And at least he’s brave! Your ‘king’ can only sit on his throne in England and bark orders!” George yelled back. They both stomped away, and that was it. Their unbreakable bond had just broke; their eternal friendship come to an end. “Stay there, George—don’t move!” George’s mother warned him as she dashed outside. George peered out the window, amazed at the sight. George Washington and his troops of the newly formed Continental Army were marching grandly down the pathway! When he looked outside again, George got even more of a surprise. George Washington, his namesake, had stopped in front of his house and was walking up the steps! There were a few knocks, and then Washington himself strode in. “Son, are you on our side?” the great man asked in a low, booming voice. “Yes-yes sir!” George stuttered, straightening. “Good. You will join us in the Continental Army,” a man called Lighthorse Harry Lee informed him. He planned to lead a cavalry unit, or a group of soldiers who fought on horseback. “You’re only a boy--about 14, right?--but we need everyone we can get,” agreed a man by the name of George Rogers Clark, who wanted to lead a force of riflemen west and capture three British forts. George looked from one man to the next: Lee, Clark, and finally Washington. “I’m coming, sir,” George replied suddenly as a wave of desire to help his country washed over him. Then George turned and hugged his mom. “Goodbye, mother,” he whispered to her, and followed George Washington out the door to free the land that he loved. Will had spent the last five months moping around after a huge fight with his best friend, George. But not now—he had just accepted the proposal of a British officer to join the war! His mother had begged him not to go, but he wanted to help the cause. George ran around wildly, his mouth dry, looking for the troops he was supposed to be marching with. He was in the middle of a battle--a battle at Yorktown. Finally he found his group. He stared down at the gun he was holding. Then he looked up at the battle raging around him. Finally he felt his courage start flowing back into him. “Fire!” Lafayette, George’s general, commanded. And so he did--though he couldn’t see if any damage was done through the smoke. Suddenly a figure emerged from the smoky atmosphere. Scared to death, George aimed his gun. “I’ll shoot!” he cried fearfully. “George?” a weak voice called. George gasped. “Will?” he cried. “You were right! I was wrong! The king only wants to tax us-he-they-ooooohh!” Will groaned. “It’s fine. I have to get you out of here--if the British catch you, you’ll be hanged!” I shouted to Will over the din. And then everything was quiet. George and Will looked around. Then applause spread. “We’re free from England! We’re a free country!” people everywhere started crying. The British soldiers that weren’t dead started to flee in all directions, amid men whooping and shouted with glee, throwing up their hats. “Come on,” George invited his best friend, Will: “Let’s go home.” So together they walked home, feeling grand about their free country.
Middle School I’m not positive whether I wrote this for an assignment or on my own time, but this was obviously in the first stages of my English career. I enjoyed using dramatic diction and apparently had no patience for setting up (or carrying through plots). I switch whimsically from third to first person. I also quickly grow tired of writing and decide that one of my main characters will have a change of heart with no explanation whatsoever. At the time I thought that this story was incredibly long, so I made everything nice and happy so I could wrap it up. There is not much I can say for this piece, except that I was high-reaching enough to include three historical figures into one scene (because recruiting a 14 year old boy for a war takes George Washington himself, along with his historical cronies). Good job, elementary school me. No way the publishers will turn down this masterpiece. (Dang, high school me is ruthless.)
