The Ugly...

The Ugly...

A Lesson by Alex
"

Here we will look at three very different kinds of writing.

"

It is my experience that there are three different kind of writers: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

First we'll go into the bad... *shudders*

The Bad:
Description: The kind of writer so dead set on "being a writer" that they don't bother with the actual writing process.

Symptoms:
*The plot to nowhere
*Love triangles, melodrama, and important details.
* "Expedient" progression through plot
*Writing suggests that you are supposed to like character instead of presenting a likable personality.
*Strange names (odd spelling, named after stuff),

Example:
Jemma stared up at the ceiling. She was waiting, as always, for the one to finally come. She should have been happy, she had tons of friends and was very popular. Her mom and dad gave her just about everything they wanted (except for that new CD she asked for last week)

Sighing she looked in the mirror and ran her fingers through her long golden hair. She stared into the reflection, examining her eyes. She had her mothers eyes. They were green with lots of blue around the edges. They were her best feature, everybody told her so.

Shrugging, she sat down at her new Dell laptop (her parents got it for her for her 16th birthday last week) and pressed the power button. Her screen name was JemStone3 and her password was a1b2c3. Waiting for the DSL to finally finish connecting took forever, but finally she was able to check her email.

A new email was there, the memo said "To Jemma..."
Clicking on the email she read the page with wide eyes.
"Dear Jemma,
      I finally  had 2 tell U that I like U sooo much. I really wish I wuz brv enuf to tell U in person, but I M shy. How about U meet me at Starbucks tomorrow at 12.
     Yours Truly,
      GL"

Her heart raced. She had to meet him. Surely, he was the one she'd been waiting for all of these long years. She through herself on the bed, sighing with contentment. "Tomorrow. I. Am. Going. To. Meet. My. SOULMATE!" She let the word out in a high pitched squeal of excitement. There was only one problem: Brent, her boyfriend.


I am so very sorry to have had to put you through this. I mean it.

This was painful for so many reasons. I think I gave myself a migraine just writing it. Eck!

So now I go into detail why this "piece" sucks monkey eggs....


Jemma stared up at the ceiling. She was waiting, as always, for the one to finally come. Oh yeah, this is going to be another sloppy romance story...She should have been happy, she had tons of friends and was very popular. Because only unhappy people are un-popular. Her mom and dad gave her just about everything they wanted (except for that new CD she asked for last week)Sounds ungrateful to me?

Sighing she looked in the mirror and ran her fingers through her long golden hair. No wonder she's popular, her hair is made out of GOLD! She stared into the reflection, examining her eyes. She had her mothers eyes. Do we really need to know that?They were green with lots of blue around the edges. Wow, overly detailed and not a complete sentence. They were her best feature, everybody told her so. Is this girl capable of thinking for herself?

Shrugging, she sat down at her new Dell laptop (her parents got it for her for her 16th birthday last week) So much detail, so little purpose.  and pressed the power button. Her screen name was JemStone3 and her password was a1b2c3. Waiting for the DSL to finally finish connecting took forever, Factual errors are annoying, You do not have to connect with DSL every time. but finally she was able to check her email.

A new email was there, the memo said "To Jemma..."
Clicking on the email she read the page with wide eyes.
"Dear Jemma,
      I finally  had 2 tell U that I like U sooo much. I really wish I wuz brv enuf to tell U in person, but I M shy. How about U meet me at Starbucks tomorrow at 12.
     Yours Truly,
      GL" 1. Text speak. 2. If some guy emailed me this I would think he was a complete moron. 3.Why, oh why would you meet up with a guy who couldn't talk to you in person, but suddenly wants to meet?

Her heart raced. She had to meet him. Surely, he was the one she'd been waiting for all of these long years. She through herself on the bed, sighing with contentment. "Tomorrow. I. Am. Going. To. Meet. My. SOULMATE!" She let the word out in a high pitched squeal of excitement. There was only one problem: Brent, her boyfriend.

PLEASE, do not write like this... It's awful. Don't take this as any sort of example of my own writing either, please.


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Added on January 9, 2013
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Author

Alex
Alex

TX



About
I'm 26 years old and for the first time in my life I'm seriously considering writing a novel.

LOVE: A HOPE LIKE FIRE LOVE: A HOPE LIKE FIRE
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