Word Choice

Word Choice: 

In your writing, use words that differentiate from "bland" words, use wording that stands out, and makes it descriptive and readable.

Powerplus:

Powerplus: In this exercise, I was required to choose words that would make the sentences flow better, such as question #1, (Michael tends to remove cliche from romance movies to show his charm in front of women), where I needed to choose a suitable word that would fit my sentence and allow it to read and move soundly, and in the Short Answer section, # 3, I had to apply the word Rancor in a sentence, so that I proved I knew the word, and how to use it uniquely in a paragraph  

Coming of Age ( Revised )

     Coming of Age

     Zachary Chock

    Period 2

 


            It was Seven AM. in the morning, and I was just watching YouTube on the computer.  It was a three-day weekend, so I could care less than nothing about the final project due around the corner on Tuesday.  Being only 10 at the time, I was not mature yet, and was still carefree and reckless.  I did not care or even think about my time being used on playing games, or watching television, when I could be studying, or working hard to accomplish major grades and achievements.  At school, I was lonely, and kept to myself.  I was only interested in space, and I isolated myself from friends, teachers, and used speech and words that were high for my understanding.  Others tried to help me as I kept getting horrible grades, and I also got very angry at my parents, even though I followed all of their advice to not make bad decisions such as giving into violence, drinking or trying any drug.  My parents were kind, loving, and cared greatly about me, skipping some events, or doing things to spend time with me.  My Dad was strong, had a silent personality, and taught me how to stand up to others and be tough, but he never got angry at us, unless it was from grades.  However, Mom was different, never mad, always kind, taught us in the ways of God, which was probably why she was so docile.  In any case, even as kind as they were to me, I turned down all of their attempts to get me an after - school program or a Tutorial supervisor that would study with me and teach me in the subjects that I was dropping in.  I never did any of that or wanted to, but when it came to school and discipline, I was a problem child.  I still got angry, acted out against them, and caused a lot of anger among my superiors.
            There was a project due, and I was simply searching for funny internet videos and information to read.  My parents woke, however, when I played an Alternative Rock song too loud on the speakers.  My Father came into my room, tired and sleepy with rings under his eyes, and he looked annoyed.  “Son, what are you doing?  Don’t you have a project due this weekend?”  I just looked at the computer screen, having switched to a video of someone playing Halo 3.  “HEY!” Dad really was trying to get my attention.  “Do you want to rush again, getting C’s and ‘Meet’ grades?  Your Mom and I are trying to help you!” he stated.  I finally paid attention and spoke to my father.  “Yeah, I care.  But I have all of the time since the weekend is three days, so I can do it on Monday” I stared blankly after I said that.  He scoffed, and my Mother came in, woken from the rock music..  “Hi Mom” I said, sounding more as if I was just repeating it like it was routine.  “Zach” She replied slowly.  “You know we care about you and are trying to help you as much as we can, so please, can you just listen to us?  We’re trying to help you get A’s – aren’t you sacred about your grade?  It’s on the borderline of a D and C.”  Eventually, I looked at both of them, and I stood, just staring at them.  “Fine.  Whatever”  I didn’t care.  I just wanted to have fun.  I wasted time purposely just messing with the materials needed to build the project, since I didn't want to do it anyway.  They left me, trusting that I would complete my mission.  However, during the three hours I spent unfocused, I was constantly reminded that Monday was speeding towards me, and very fast.
            I got to ‘work’, trying to do the first part of my poster board, to type up the summary on what had happened to the Hawaiian Monarchy.  It had been assigned by the teacher a while ago, and I had gotten but nowhere.  The Keyboard made clacks and clicked, each key springing back as I typed with anger.  I didn’t feel like spending precious time doing something I was required, but to do something that made me happy and careless, like spending countless hours video-gaming, or to vegetate on the couch, watching a funny cartoon until I had fallen asleep by the next morning.  There seemed to be so much to do, it looked overwhelming and seemed to grow when I looked back at the criteria, and appeared that it would take up to Tuesday to complete, but I didn’t want to even try.  Since my parents were gone, I opened up the web browser, and I searched a video related to Halo.  As I watched the video play on the screen, I forgot about the homework and the time wasted away by not working on the project.  The shadows of the trees and the computer arched as eight hours passed me by, leaving me forever.  Those were eight hours I could have finished my project in, but I didn't care anymore.  I never kept track of time, and because of all the gunshot noises made by the game, I was too consumed to notice that my parents’ work had ended, and they had come home and were already inside the house.  My Mom had been standing behind me for a few moments.  She tapped my shoulder, and I turned.  I felt frozen, the cold chill of my blood causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand erect.  “Hi mom” my voice whittled to a whisper.  She didn’t say anything, but kept a tired, cold expression as she opened my word document to see my project progress.  “Son, you didn’t even make it past the second paragraph” she said.  I could feel the disappointment in her whisper of a voice.  “Do you still care?” she turned to look at me.  I felt her brown eyes stabbing into my heart like daggers, the dark hole in her eyes were empty, and I saw the sadness and irritation pooling in her emotionless eyes.  I felt scared, so I could only nod.  She began to leave, and finally turned as she left me to drown in my guilt.  “If you don’t care, that’s fine – Your father and I try to help you so much, and you turn it down with no effort” she looked sad.  I actually felt guilty and cared then, out of all the times that I spent deflecting their glares and anger.  “You can fail if you want to do so” Her upbeat happy personality replaced by an sad, empty shell of what she always was.  She left me alone with the video continuing to play.  I didn’t even notice it was on – I had been to focused by what my Mom had said, that I had begun to change.
            Eventually, the final day came, and even after my confrontation with Mom in the bedroom about my progress, I had acted like I cared, and when my Dad asked of the same, I could only feel the guilt and shame wrenching my insides.  The noise the clock made was threatening.

Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Time seemed to pass by more than twice as fast – I glared at the clock with swollen, red eyes.

It read 9:00 PM.

I realized that only three hours remained until the dreadful day of reckoning had consumed me and my project.  I began a frantic haste, rushing and making mistakes, spilling glue as I frantically tried to paste the images onto the board.  I hadn’t even gotten halfway to the finishing touch and now it was too late as the clock struck 10:00. PM.  I was tired, and I was now up to my neck in regret of not heeding my parent’s advice.  My sister was asleep not too far away.  Slowly, I began to cry.  I didn’t take my chance, and I was paying the full price for my decisions.  It was then my Dad came into the room and knelt next to me.  “Son, do you see what procrastination has done?” I nodded, and he helped me up.  “Do you really want to try now?” He finished.  At last, I caved in, and replied.  “Yes.  I promise!” and with that, we began to work.  He helped me fix the crooked pictures, pasted to the board.  While he was at that, Mom came and told me she cared.  "Now, let's take a look at the document" she soothed.  I followed Mom to the computer, and with renewed vigor, I revamped my summary with her help in only half an hour.  Time seemed to transition from fast to slow as the progress moved along, and the pieces of my poster board began to assemble.  This was the most serious I was than at any of my school life.  I understood, and I was ready to make the transition.
          I finally finished the project.  The poster was a bit rushed, so I received a "Meets" or 'B' on my poster. This was my wake up call.  It was time to upgrade - I wasn't a kid anymore.  I had to be ready for the real world.  A little while after that day, I changed Behaviorally, and Psychologically.  I listened to my parents more, I stopped throwing fits, yelling, and causing trouble.  I began to get serious, dedicating more time to studying, reading, and being active to acquire a better lifestyle and status.  My grades rose, reaching A's and B's, a giant leap from the 'C' student that I had always seen myself to be.  The main problem was that I didn't want to change - but from that day, I decided to mature, and act more like my age, to be a teenager and take responsibility of my life.  Then, I found I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, which was why I was socially unkempt, and used 'big phrases'.  It was something I had to overcome, so with my changing from child to teen, I worked on being more social, seeking help with my subjects, and caring more than ever now that I was concerned about my future, and how I had changed over the four years in personality socially, and physically.

In my "Coming of Age" essay, I tried using complex and different words, like "criteria", and words and phrases in the body paragraph such as "frozen, the cold chill of my blood causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand erect" to describe how I felt, and make the reader imagine what I felt at that time, as well as throughout the paragraphs, where I used big words, like "renewed vigor" instead of "with energy", as it would be bland and boring.