Most Helpful Peer Review/ MOST Improved
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Besides being the most thorough peer review i've received this semester, Temporary Travesty proved to be nothing short of a train-wreck at first glance. I took bits and pieces of previously written essays and combined them so that I could draft an effective and useful college essay for Emerson College. I ended up cutting half of it off for the actual essay since there was a 250 word-limit. This essay is a perfect example of me focusing too much on description and not enough on concrete information. I was informed that the essay itself was difficult to understand and follow, however, my peer reviewer claimed he "loved the tone and vagueness" to an extent. When Mrs. Erskine looked over the essay, I was reminded that it was too hard to follow, so I added color to a few words to hopefully relay the message better. It worked. Turns out, unfortunately, the piece itself was too dark, as I expected.
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Most difficult to write
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This essay took me a millennia to write. I wanted to discuss philosophy, which I could do all day, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. However, I was having an extremely difficult time avoiding the word "existentialism." There are a lot of aspects to cover inside this particular philosophical school, yet there are also very few ways to word its essence without being redundant or cliche. I wanted to catch the reader's attention with a decent hook, but also had to use a consistent tone and stay on topic. It's easy to run on tangents and rants when discussing personal philosophical beliefs. I decided to go into some history, adding in tidbits of influential figures and background. A criticism of this particular essay was that it had rough transitions and lacked a sense of fluidity.
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BEST ESSAY
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I simply cannot contain my excitement when it comes to this particular paper. Although it took me a few strenuous hours of labor, I am more than pleased with the outcome. I looked up other essays concerning the same concept and found none. If anything, I discovered criticisms from various educators and writers stating that 'comparing life and death is too vague' and would prove to be far too difficult to write about. I made a chart and saw if I could come up with some similarities and differences between life and death, finding confidence in the process. After, I opened up a fresh Word document and watched as the words flooding from my fingertips.
Once there was nothing more to say, I remembered Charles Bukowski, one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. so you want to be a writer? Charles Bukowski, 1920 - 1994 if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words, don’t do it. if you’re doing it for money or fame, don’t do it. if you’re doing it because you want women in your bed, don’t do it. if you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again, don’t do it. if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it, don’t do it. if you’re trying to write like somebody else, forget about it. if you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait patiently. if it never does roar out of you, do something else. if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you’re not ready. don’t be like so many writers, don’t be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don’t be dull and boring and pretentious, don’t be consumed with self- love. the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. don’t add to that. don’t do it. unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don’t do it. unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don’t do it. when it is truly time, and if you have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you. there is no other way. and there never was. |