My Life As A Reader: Revised Using the Lanham Method
In this revised excerpt of earlier writing, I worked on untangling the sentences and restructuring them to fit a who-did-what pattern to the best of my ability at this point, without altering the original message. I’ve become so set in my writing style that this presented a challenge for me.
As a child, I always enjoyed reading. Living in a rural corner of my school district, I didn’t have the involved social atmosphere that most of my classmates grew up in. I had no neighbors or kids my own age nearby. I primarily interacted with other kids during the school day. I spent many afternoons and evenings with the company I found through reading.
My favorite books promised adventure, interactions with nature, encounters with savages, or anything to feed my imagination as to what might lurk in the forests surrounding my home. My aunt, a middle school English teacher, funded my love for reading by sending me book store gift cards every Christmas and birthday. The first book I bought was Hatchet by Gary Paulson. As a third grader, the turn of each page found me facing each new obstacle right along with the character. I identified with the wilderness as a backdrop for stories because the forest was part of my own identity, so I sought more books with similar settings. Next, I read My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George. I soon sought my own solitude in tree forts, at least until the sun went down.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Coloring Outside of the Lines
Original Text: This was taken from an Englush 351 short story.
As the sun hung high above, a formidable figure entered the forest, immediately opposed by a labyrinthine tangle of vine maple. Gerry carefully lifted a sagging maple stalk and dipped down underneath, stepping gingerly over another. Though the forest teemed with life, today all was still as though frozen in time; nothing ever changed here. Animals come into this world, live a while, and die. Seedlings sprout, blossom into towering firs, and someday tumble down again, yet nothing really changes. The forest runs on a different clock than the hoards of caffeine-crazed businessmen in their twelfth-story cubicles. Onward through the underbrush, he crept along as seamlessly as a cat stalking his prey. Each footstep ran a risk of disturbance, so he tediously ensured that no step fell out of place. The tattered litter of leaves, bark, and splintered twigs on the mossy forest floor had seen two months of autumn showers and were worn to a deep homogenous mulch. This usually facilitated silent, stealthy maneuvers through the trees, but the forest’s lavish shag carpet had become crunchy from a week of bitterly dry weather.
Below, the same text was modified to add "brush strokes" of writing, including absolutes, appositives, participles, and adjectives out of order. Specifics of each example, in brackets, follow the bold text.
As the sun hung high above, smiling wearily upon the faded landscape [Participle], a formidable figure entered the forest and was immediately opposed by a labyrinthine tangle of vine maple. Gerry, a stealthy predator, [appositive] carefully lifted a sagging maple stalk and dipped down underneath, stepping gingerly over another. Though the forest, a bustling biome, [appositive] teemed with life, today all was still as though frozen in time; nothing ever changed here. Animals come into this world, live a while, and die. Seedlings sprout, blossom into towering firs, and someday tumble down again, yet nothing really changes. The forest, timeless and unregulated, [adjectives out of order] runs on a different clock than the hoards of caffeine-crazed businessmen in their twelfth-story cubicles. Onward through the underbrush, he crept along as seamlessly as a cat stalking his prey. Each footstep ran a risk of disturbance. Palms sweating, pulse pounding, [absolutes] he tediously ensured that no step fell out of place. The tattered litter of leaves, bark, and splintered twigs on the mossy forest floor had seen two months of autumn showers and were worn to a deep homogenous mulch. This usually facilitated silent, stealthy maneuvers through the trees, but the forest’s lavish shag carpet had become crunchy from a week of bitterly dry weather.
As the sun hung high above, a formidable figure entered the forest, immediately opposed by a labyrinthine tangle of vine maple. Gerry carefully lifted a sagging maple stalk and dipped down underneath, stepping gingerly over another. Though the forest teemed with life, today all was still as though frozen in time; nothing ever changed here. Animals come into this world, live a while, and die. Seedlings sprout, blossom into towering firs, and someday tumble down again, yet nothing really changes. The forest runs on a different clock than the hoards of caffeine-crazed businessmen in their twelfth-story cubicles. Onward through the underbrush, he crept along as seamlessly as a cat stalking his prey. Each footstep ran a risk of disturbance, so he tediously ensured that no step fell out of place. The tattered litter of leaves, bark, and splintered twigs on the mossy forest floor had seen two months of autumn showers and were worn to a deep homogenous mulch. This usually facilitated silent, stealthy maneuvers through the trees, but the forest’s lavish shag carpet had become crunchy from a week of bitterly dry weather.
Below, the same text was modified to add "brush strokes" of writing, including absolutes, appositives, participles, and adjectives out of order. Specifics of each example, in brackets, follow the bold text.
As the sun hung high above, smiling wearily upon the faded landscape [Participle], a formidable figure entered the forest and was immediately opposed by a labyrinthine tangle of vine maple. Gerry, a stealthy predator, [appositive] carefully lifted a sagging maple stalk and dipped down underneath, stepping gingerly over another. Though the forest, a bustling biome, [appositive] teemed with life, today all was still as though frozen in time; nothing ever changed here. Animals come into this world, live a while, and die. Seedlings sprout, blossom into towering firs, and someday tumble down again, yet nothing really changes. The forest, timeless and unregulated, [adjectives out of order] runs on a different clock than the hoards of caffeine-crazed businessmen in their twelfth-story cubicles. Onward through the underbrush, he crept along as seamlessly as a cat stalking his prey. Each footstep ran a risk of disturbance. Palms sweating, pulse pounding, [absolutes] he tediously ensured that no step fell out of place. The tattered litter of leaves, bark, and splintered twigs on the mossy forest floor had seen two months of autumn showers and were worn to a deep homogenous mulch. This usually facilitated silent, stealthy maneuvers through the trees, but the forest’s lavish shag carpet had become crunchy from a week of bitterly dry weather.
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