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(I couldn't add to the one with the extract)
‘the little prince’ is a wonderful story by Antoine de saint Exupery that portrays what love is like very clearly. This extract in particular is very beautiful and gives the reader a chance to look at love from a different perspective.

We can see how the prince is absolutely in love with his rose when he tells all the other roses: ‘you’re lovely, but you’re empty,’ he went on. ‘one couldn’t die for you.’. the prince is so in love that he dismissed all the other roses, not even giving them a chance. The prince simply could not love them because he did not risk his life for them. He did not give them all he’s ever had. The emotional connection the prince had for his rose wasn’t there with all the other roses. The author wanted to show that true love is blind. Although all the other roses might be just as beautiful, once you’ve found your rose, she could be compared to no other. The author wanted to show that love overpowers any other emotion and that true love could mean when you would pick them over your own life if it would be in their favour. This extract, although short, is very beautiful and impactful for all the reasons listed above, and will surely make the reader reconsider what ‘love’ means to them.

In addition to that, throughout the end of this extract, the fox says many philosophical things that the prince repeats. At the end of each repetition, the author says: “the little prince repeated, in order to remember.”. The fact that the author implies that these phrases must be remembered as well as the constant repetition of these very important things mentioned by the fox will stay in our mind and impact our lives positively. One thing that makes this extract so beautiful is the fox’s wise words. He says things like: “it’s the time that you spend on your rose that makes your rose so important.” Or “Anything essential is invisible to the eyes” and these encourage the reader to share the same views with the prince’s perspective of love. The message that the writer portrays throughout the extract is so beautiful and engaging by showing what love truly means.

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Firstly, we have chosen this extract because Weisberger presented the status of Andrea Sachs without completely saying that she is wealthy. Weisberger showed this by using brand names like 'Manolo' and 'Gucci'. this is effective because it uses the show not tell method. Another used sentence structure is the vocabulary used to show her age. A regular child and elder wouldn't use the language that is spoken by Sachs, because they are innapropriate adult words.

Secondly, Weisberg used words  and snetences to show the characters emotions such as '*swear words*', 'My heart flip-flopped in my chest.' and the basic one 'angry'. Using these words makes the extract interesting because you are knowing what Sachs feels like, without being told how she feels.

In conclusion, we chose this extract because it is a tense and riveting story that uses a variety of language features and a wide range of vocabulary.

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The Sign of Four - Fazal Aziz and Najm Japanwala 

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The Sign of Four - Fazal Aziz and Najm Japanwala 

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The extract of 'The Sign of Four' by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle makes for a highly interesting and engaging piece.

Firstly, he presents Sherlock's brilliance in the third person, by using the character of Watson. This technique has been repeated over the entire novel and is effective at portraying him as a highly intelligent person with odd quirks; this piques the interest of the reader and sets Sherlock apart from other mundane characters.

Doyle uses a diverse variety of both common and rare adjectives such as "hypodermic", "sinewy" and "nonchalant" to describe each image thoroughly and juxtaposes which engages the reader. This paints a deeply vivid scene for the reader and augments their journey through the story. Doyle is then able to, further create a capturing scene by utilizing sophisticated and uncommon vocabulary to describe Sherlock,

“His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him”

thus denoting Sherlock as an exceptional man.

In addition, Doyle at the beginning of the extract makes use of a compound sentence hinting to the reader that Holmes is about to commit an action. At the start of the sentence, Doyle mentions the name of Sherlock Homes in full in order to focus the reader’s attention on him meaning the reader will acknowledge and pay attention to each and every habit of Holmes.

Doyle then tells the reader how Sherlock Holmes

“PICKS up his bottle from the mantel-piece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case”

suggesting to the reader that Sherlock Homes has peculiar habits and objects. The phrase which captures the readers' attention is that Sherlock keeps a hypodermic syringe in a neat morocco case, showing that he has some sort of affection or care with the syringe maybe knowing that he has been trying to jab a syringe into his hands since the last few months.

“For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks.”

Doyle uses a range of negative images such as “scarred”, “innumerable”, “puncture” to emphasize to the reader that Sherlock Holmes has been unsuccessful. The image “puncture” connotes to piercing, rupturing or penetrating which immediately makes the reader question what Holmes is planning to do next leaving us with a mysterious situation. Doyle associates the idea of punctures to Sherlock's scars to build the reader’s doubts and to magnify the eeriness around the character. And right after the idea of unsuccessfulness, Doyle brings out the idea of intense succession by saying that Sherlock “sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction” marveling that Holmes has accomplished something after failing to do so multiple times. The idea of intense satisfaction comes out with the image “long sigh.”

Overall, Doyle has written a highly interesting and engaging extract by taking the reader on a journey through the eccentric life of Holmes.

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Wonder by R.J Palacio - Lorenzo and Galih

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Wonder by R.J Palacio - Lorenzo and Galih

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Ordinary

I know I’m not an ordinary ten-year-old kid. I mean, sure, I do ordinary things. I eat ice cream. I ride my bike. I play ball. I have an XBox. Stuff like that makes me ordinary. I guess. And I feel ordinary. Inside. But I know ordinary kids don’t make other ordinary kids run away screaming in playgrounds. I know ordinary kids don’t get stared at wherever they go.

If I found a magic lamp and I could have one wish, I would wish that I had a normal face that no one ever noticed at all. I would wish that I could walk down the street without people seeing me and then doing that look-away thing. Here’s what I think: the only reason I’m not ordinary is that no one else sees me that way.

But I’m kind of used to how I look by now. I know how to pretend I don’t see the faces people make. We’ve all gotten pretty good at that sort of thing: me, Mom and Dad, Via. Actually, I take that back: Via’s not so good at it. She can get really annoyed when people do something rude. Like, for instance, one time in the playground some older kids made some noises. I don’t even know what the noises were exactly because I didn’t hear them myself, but Via heard and she just started yelling at the kids. That’s the way she is. I’m not that way.

Via doesn’t see me as ordinary. She says she does, but if I were ordinary, she wouldn’t feel like she needs to protect me as much. And Mom and Dad don’t see me as ordinary, either. They see me as extraordinary. I think the only person in the world who realizes how ordinary I am is me.

My name is August, by the way. I won’t describe what I look like. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably worse.

Analysis

We have chosen this extract because R.J Palacio creates an engaging and heartwarming atmosphere in the beginning of ‘Wonder’. This is evident when, Palacio as August says, “We’ve gotten pretty good at that sort of thing: me, Mom and Dad, Via.” Throughout the extract Palacio introduces us to each of August’s family members as though we are part of August’s family as it is typical of those with close bonds or relationships. The nouns “Mom” and “Dad” connotes to caring, loving and supportive which develops a heart-melting and comforting image, which is further shown when August says, “Mom and Dad don’t see me as ordinary, either. They see me as extraordinary.” R.J Palacio portrays August’s parents in a supportive light as they uplift August.

Moreover, the language is quite casual and naturalistic in the sense that it doesn’t have bad grammar but we feel a close bond with August since we are getting to find out more about August’s personal life such as his hardships as he deals with his differences for example when he says, “Here’s what I think: the only reason I’m not ordinary is that no one else sees me that way.” We feel sympathetic and empathetic towards August as he feels judged as people stare at him due to his difference in appearance.

R.J Palacio also makes us feel empathetic towards August and his struggles, in the first paragraph. He starts of with listing what he does that normal boys normally do, in short sentences. RJ Palacio separates the actions in the list in short sentences, so the reader can take in and visualise each point, seeing an ordinary boy. Then the list is followed by another few short sentences. ‘I guess. And I feel ordinary. Inside’. These points are split up in short sentences, to show August’s doubt in how ordinary he is as well as letting the reader pause, so they can process and take in the sadness he feels, piece by piece. Then he follows it with  2 more simple sentences describing how he doesn’t feel ordinary how he isn’t treated ordinary how he isn’t ordinary (in the eyes of everyone else).

In addition, We feel even more sympathetic towards August when he says, “I won’t describe what I look like. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably worse.” R.J Palacio implies that August feels insecure about his appearance because he is not willing to describe himself; August states that what we think his appearance is “probably worse” making us sympathetic towards August even further, developing a deeper connection since we all have quirks and some are unfortunate to have ones that make them insecure.

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we chose this extract because it creates tension and suspense, exciting the readers mind and making them want to continue to explore what happens next.

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There is no lake at Camp Green Lake. There once was a very large lake here, the largest lake in Texas. That was over a hundred years ago. Now it is just a dry, flat, wasteland.There used to be a town of Green Lake as well. The town shriveled and dried up along with the lake, and the people who lived there.During the summer the daytime temperature hovers around ninety-five degrees in the shade— if you can find any shade. There's not much shade in a big dry lake.The only trees are two old oaks on the eastern edge of the "lake." A hammock is stretched between the two trees, and a log cabin stands behind that.The campers are forbidden to lie in the hammock. It belongs to the Warden. The Warden owns the shade.Out on the lake, rattlesnakes and scorpions find shade under rocks and in the holes dug by the campers.Here's a good rule to remember about rattlesnakes and scorpions: If you don't bother them, they won't bother you.Usually.Being bitten by a scorpion or even a rattlesnake is not the worst thing that can happen to you. You won't die.Usually.Sometimes a camper will try to be bitten by a scorpion, or even a small rattlesnake.Then he will get to spend a day or two recovering in his tent, instead of having to dig a hole out on the lake. But you don't want to be bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard. That's the worst thing that can happen to you. You will die a slow and painful death.Always.If you get bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard, you might as well go into the shade of the oak trees and lie in the hammock.There is nothing anyone can do to you anymore.

Why did I choose this extract?

I chose this extract because the introduction of this extract was very abnormal than the other extracts. Every unique descriptions were almost nothing to do with the entire story. the first phrase: 'there is no lake at camp green lake' suggests a dry atmosphere of the place and something must have happened to the lake because of the word 'green' in it. Louis Sachar then went on to describe about the yellow spotted lizard that they are very dangerous and poisonous. The phrase: 'Being bitten by a scorpion or even a rattlesnake is not the worst thing that can happen to you' can show us how painful and how serious getting attacked by the yellow spotted lizard is.

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the devil wears prada - malak&rasha&marwa

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the devil wears prada - malak&rasha&marwa

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The light hadn't even officially turned green at the intersection of 17th and Broadway before an army of overconfident yellow cabs roared past the tiny deathtrap I was attempting to navigate around the city streets. Clutch, gas, shift (neutral to first? Or first to second?), release clutch, I repeated over and over in my head, the mantra offering little comfort and even less direction amid the screeching midday traffic. The little car bucked wildly twice before it lurched forward through the intersection. My heart flip-flopped in my chest. Without warning, the lurching evened out and I began to pick up speed. Lots of speed. I glanced down to confirm visually that I was only in second gear, but the rear end of a cab loomed so large in the windshield that I could do nothing but jam my foot on the brake pedal so hard that my heel snapped off. Sh*t! Another pair of seven-hundred-dollar shoes sacrificed to my complete and utter lack of grace under pressure: this clocked in as my third such breakage this month. It was almost a relief when the car stalled (I'd obviously forgotten to press the clutch when attempting to brake for my life). I had a few seconds--peaceful seconds if one could overlook the angry honking and varied forms of the word "f*ck" being hurled at me from all directions--to pull off my Manolos and toss them into the passenger seat. There was nowhere to wipe my sweaty hands except for the suede Gucci pants that hugged my thighs and hips so tightly they'd both begun to tingle within minutes of my securing the final button.

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Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death. Whenever you read a cancer booklet or website or whatever, they always list depression among the side effects of cancer. But, in fact, depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying. (Cancer is also a side effect of dying. Almost everything is, really.) But my mom believed I required treatment, so she took me to see my Regular Doctor Jim, who agreed that I was veritably swimming in a paralyzing and totally clinical depression, and that therefore my meds should be adjusted and also I should attend a weekly Support Group. This Support Group featured a rotating cast of characters in various states of tumor-driven unwellness. Why did the cast rotate? A side effect of dying. The Support Group, of course, was depressing as hell. It met every Wednesday in the basement of a stone-walled Episcopal church shaped like a cross. We all sat in a circle right in the middle of the cross, where the two boards would have met, where the heart of Jesus would have been. I noticed this because Patrick, the Support Group Leader and only person over eighteen in the room, talked about the heart of Jesus every freaking meeting, all about how we, as young cancer survivors, were sitting right in Christ’s very sacred heart and whatever. So here’s how it went in God’s heart: The six or seven or ten of us walked/wheeled in, grazed at a decrepit selection of cookies and

lemonade, sat down in the Circle of Trust, and listened to Patrick recount for the thousandth time his depressingly miserable life story—how

he had cancer in his b**** and they thought he was going to die but he didn’t die and now here he is, a full-grown adult in a church basement

in the 137th nicest city in America, divorced, addicted to video games, mostly friendless, eking out a meager living by exploiting his

cancertastic past, slowly working his way toward a master’s degree that will not improve his career prospects, waiting, as we all do, for the

sword of Damocles to give him the relief that he escaped lo those many years ago when cancer took both of his nuts but spared what only the

most generous soul would call his life.

AND YOU TOO MIGHT BE SO LUCKY!

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Why did you chose this extract?

I chose the extract the fault in our stars since John Green powerfully uses a wide range of imagery and metaphors to describe the suffering of cancer patients which puts me in the same atmosphere as them. In the first paragraph John Green starts off by giving a list of metaphoric examples about the causes of depression leading to death eventually, “my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death.” The use of the list creates an endless loop which shows the never ending of Hazel Lancaster’s suffering which makes me feel sympathetic towards her.

the use of the image 'depressed' is effective by emphasizing vividly how cancer patience feel, the feelings of sadness and gloom, to the readers. The image 'depressed' creates a powerful opening since it sets the tone of sadness from the start, which engages the reader into the atmosphere of cancer suffering from the start which makes the extract catching and engaging to the reader.

Moreover john green continuously repeats the noun 'death' through the opening in order  to convey the terror of cancer to the reader, which is the possibility of death in any second. This noun 'death' conveys the terror cancer patience have to live on and so is very emotional to the reader which makes this a powerful extract by sharing such a hard experience with the reader.

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Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death. Whenever you read a cancer booklet or website or whatever, they always list depression among the side effects of cancer. But, in fact, depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying. (Cancer is also a side effect of dying. Almost everything is, really.) But my mom believed I required treatment, so she took me to see my Regular Doctor Jim, who agreed that I was veritably swimming in a paralyzing and totally clinical depression, and that therefore my meds should be adjusted and also I should attend a weekly Support Group. This Support Group featured a rotating cast of characters in various states of tumor-driven unwellness. Why did the cast rotate? A side effect of dying. The Support Group, of course, was depressing as hell. It met every Wednesday in the basement of a stone-walled Episcopal church shaped like a cross. We all sat in a circle right in the middle of the cross, where the two boards would have met, where the heart of Jesus would have been. I noticed this because Patrick, the Support Group Leader and only person over eighteen in the room, talked about the heart of Jesus every freaking meeting, all about how we, as young cancer survivors, were sitting right in Christ’s very sacred heart and whatever

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Death-Cast is calling with the warning of a lifetime—I’m going to die today. Forget that, “warning” is too strong a word since warnings suggest something can be avoided, like a car honking at someone who’s crossing the street when it isn’t their light, giving them the chance to step back; this is more of a heads-up. The alert, a distinctive and endless gong, like a church bell one block away, is blasting from my phone on the other side of the room. I’m freaking out already, a hundred thoughts immediately drowning out everything around me. I bet this chaos is what a first-time skydiver feels as she’s plummeting out of a plane, or a pianist playing his first concert. Not that I will ever know for sure.

It’s crazy. One minute ago I was reading yesterday’s blog entry from CountDowners—where Deckers chronicle their final hours through statuses and photos via live feeds, this particular one about a college junior trying to find a home for his golden retriever—and now I’m going to die.

I’m going to . . . no . . . yes. Yes.

My chest tightens. I’m dying today.

I’ve always been afraid of dying. I don’t know why I thought this would jinx it from actually happening. Not forever, obviously, but long enough so I could grow up. Dad has even been drilling it into my head that I should pretend I’m the main character of a story that nothing bad ever happens to, most especially death, because the hero has to be around to save the day. But the noise in my head is quieting down and there’s a Death-Cast herald on the other end of the phone waiting to tell me I’m going to die today at eighteen years old.

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We chose this extract because its beginning is unique and is very attention-grabbing to the reader. This is because in the first sentence the character announces that he's going to die. Usually, you are allowed some time before the characters' lives are put in danger, in order to give us insight into their lives, their relationships and their mindset. However, in 'They Both Die at the End', Mateo, the main character, is put into a life-threatening situation from the get-go. We get to experience the anxiety he has to deal with, and the priorities he has.

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“You look fine. Hurry up.”
 I look at my reflection. I do not look fine.
 “I look better with it up.”
 “No you don’t. Wear it down. Up makes your chin look big.”
 Ouch. I never wear my hair down, she knows that.
 “And anyway, I’m wearing my hair up today, so you can’t.” Sally spins around and pounds for the door, leaving me to stare back at myself in the mirror and rebelliously yank my limp, dark brown hair into a ponytail. Hurting my fingers with the elastic band and wincing as hairs are plucked from my skull. When it’s up, all I can see is chin. 1 Brilliant! In under three minutes she’s managed to inspire a brand-new insecurity. My fat chin is now right up there with the big nose she informed me of when we were ten. If there was an exam this year in making me feel paranoid, she would get an A+. I leave the toilets, hair down, and chase her up the corridor. She barges her way into the classroom with all the menace of a headmistress in the making. No one wears the green school uniform quite like Sally, her shirt neatly tucked in all the way around and her thick green skirt exactly at the regulation length, just at the knee. Her tie—real, unlike my fake one on an elastic band—is in the perfect knot, her light brown hair gathered on top of her head like a dog poo. She moves forward like she’s on rails, her nose in its usual tilted position, her eyes searching for something to tell off, her aura oozing imminent battle. I walk alongside her, my big nose leading the way like an arrow losing speed. All summer I have told myself that this year will be different, but I’m only one morning into a new school year and my “best friend” has me quivering in my knee-length socks.

dawn o'porter engages a teenage audience through the use of her informal language. O'porter captures the teenagers readers attention by describing an incident involving a common emotion wildly experienced in teen culture which involves insecurity over appearance this creates an intimate connection between the reader and the writer as there is a sense of relatability. This is shown using dialogue between the main characters “I look better with it up.”.This is done by o'porter to gain the readers trust and to get the reader to relate to the story so that they would most likely stay engaged with the story.Doing this o'porter prepares the reader for a typical cliche teenage high school journey.


Dawn O’Porter creates an awkward setting with the use of short sentences. I think this because the short sentences she uses give off a lot of personality from character which will come off as obvious when you read them, and conflict is shown very openly between the two teens. Usually short sentences are used to build suspense and tension however, in this opening it builds a rather adaptive link to the characters and how Porter introduces them. Porter does this with introducing the characters with dialogue as the first sentence. Porter uses short and snappy sentences that give us a brief idea of the character’s tone and emotions right away. “You look fine. Hurry up.” is the first thing we read and clearly porter is suggesting the character is short tempered and, in a hurry, also linking back to her precise use of characterization. Porter then continues the use of short sentences and also fixates on certain emotions or you can say idea that she’s trying to come across. This means that porter uses relevant language which adapts to the characters and the audience. Porter creates a scene with dialogue between teenagers so it’s only suitable to use the same kind of language that two teenagers would use which is usually snappy, quick and characterized in this certain time and place, considering again, the characters and how they’re portrayed.

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I shouldn’t have come to this party.

I’m not even sure I belong at this party. That’s not on some bougie s**t, either. There are just some places where it’s not enough to be me. Neither version of me. Big D’s spring break party is one of those places.

I squeeze through sweaty bodies and follow Kenya, her curls bouncing past her shoulders. A haze lingers over the room, smelling like weed, and music rattles the floor. Some rapper calls out for everybody to Nae-Nae, followed by a bunch of “Heys” as people launch into their own versions. Kenya holds up her cup and dances her way through the crowd. Between the headache from the loud-a** music and the nausea from the weed odor, I’ll be amazed if I cross the room without spilling my drink.

We break out the crowd. Big D’s house is packed wall-to-wall. I’ve always heard that everybody and their momma comes to his spring break parties—well, everybody except me—but damn, I didn’t know it would be this many people. Girls wear their hair colored, curled, laid, and slayed. Got me feeling basic as hell with my ponytail. My nana likes to say that spring brings love. Spring in Garden Heights doesn’t always bring love, but it promises babies in the winter. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of them are conceived the night of Big D’s party. He always has it on the Friday of spring break because you need Saturday to recover and Sunday to repent.

“Stop following me and go dance, Starr,” Kenya says. “People already say you think you all that.”

“I didn’t know so many mind readers lived in Garden Heights.” Or that people know me as anything other than “Big Mav’s daughter who works in the store.” I sip my drink and spit it back out. I knew there would be more than Hawaiian Punch in it, but this is way stronger than I’m used to. They shouldn’t even call it punch. Just straight-up liquor. I put it on the coffee table and say, “Folks kill me, thinking they know what I think.”

Analysis: Why did we pick this extract?

We chose this extract for the sole purpose of it being the most intriguing part of the story. This is because of the wide range of themes and literary techniques that Thomas uses. In the extract, Thomas shows Starr’s struggle of growing up in two different worlds; the poor neighborhood where she was born, and her posh high school, all the while using imagery, first-person narrative, and references to pop culture to appeal to the young and impressionable teenage audience.

The struggle is shown through the use of imagery to create the feeling of discomfort and discourage from Starr. This is done through the use of words like “sweaty” and “haze”. The image created by the word “sweaty” is disgusting, repulsive, and sickening. “Sweaty’’ makes you think of crying bodies from the pain of the heat, since parties are generally very crowded and therefore exude a lot of warmth, therefore making Starr’s predicament seem very intense and uncomfortable because all the emotions going through her head are unforgettable. Although the noun "haze" can describe any kind of misty or slightly obscured air, it usually refers to visible air pollution, rather than just fog. When applied to the situation that Starr is in, Thomas beautifully creates disgusting imagery, which is a talent in and of itself. So, the image created by both words makes us begin to get a feel for the location that Starr is in and just how disgusting it is. Since many of us have been to parties, we all know just how off-putting they can be sometimes, and so when you combine that with Starr’s informal way of talking, it creates an extract that teenagers have no choice but to relate to.

Thomas further explores Starr’s struggles when she mentions the words “headache” and “nausea”, both of which are physical conditions that we know all to well. Due to our already existing familiarity with the conditions, we know how daunting they can be to deal with, and thus, we begin to feel badly for Starr. Since we’re sympathetic towards her, the sympathy could very easily become protectiveness. This means that we’re going to want nothing bad to happen to her, which could serve as a catalyst for making us read on. Thomas wonderfully portrays Starr as someone whom is in a situation that she doesn’t want to be in, which has happened to us many times before, so the relatability is a big factor for why we’re reading on.

All in all, there are many reasons for why we chose this extract, but the main reason for why we chose it is because Starr just has a very likeable personality which especially appeals to teens. This, combined with the relatability of the situations she puts herself in, creates a unique character with many distinct qualities that make her a delight to read about.

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The sign of the Four - Sherlock Holmes - Elan and Stephanie

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The sign of the Four - Sherlock Holmes - Elan and Stephanie

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Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantel-piece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.

Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching to a liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him.

Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer.

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Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You’ll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

ANALYSIS

We have chosen this extract because it strikes us as a very interesting and unique passage. It is not a simple narrative of characters doing things, but a captivating piece of literature. It fills us with a great sense of aspiration and the feeling that you will be okay, one day.

Haruki Murakami uses a gripping and engaging metaphysical simile of the storm to attract the reader and hold them captive in his words. He uses the storm to symbolize the notion of change and the idea of a disruption within yourself which changes you and transforms you into a new version of yourself. This idea is evident when Murakami says “When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in.” He presents the idea that all troubles and difficulties you face in your life, this storm that you have to overcome, will all pass eventually and you will come out of it a new person, a person who has learned from the past and gained knowledge and experience.

In the second paragraph, Murakami doesn’t shy away from the concept that the troubles won’t be easy, they will hurt you and people around you. This is one of the things that gripped us the most. “Make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades.” He, in fact, embraces the fact that this won’t be tranquil, he exaggerates by using the image of a “thousand razor blades” to ensure that he doesn’t mislead the reader into thinking this will be unchallenging. We really like this and it actually makes us admire him. He isn’t sugar-coating the situation, instead accepting it. He doesn't deny the tragedy and trauma that will affect you, but at the same time doesn't make you feel overwhelmed because he reassures you that it's going to be okay.

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Fading.

In the darkness the booming noises grew louder, louder still, echoing, everywhere, all around.

And now he was crouched in a dark hallway, crouched on a blue rug with a riot of twisting black shapes woven into its pile, listening to the booming noises approach, and now a Shape turned the corner and began to come toward him, lurching, smelling of blood and doom. It had a mallet in one hand and it was swinging it (REDRUM) from side to side in vicious arcs, slamming it into the walls, cutting the silk wallpaper and knocking out ghostly bursts of plasterdust:

Come on and take your medicine! Take it like a man!

The Shape advancing on him, reeking of that sweet-sour odor, gigantic, the mallet head cutting across the air with a wicked hissing whisper, then the great hollow boom as it crashed into the wall, sending the dust out in a puff you could smell, dry and itchy. Tiny red eyes glowed in the dark. The monster was upon him, it had discovered him, cowering here with a blank wall at his back. And the trapdoor in the ceiling was locked.

Darkness. Drifting.

"Tony, please take me back, please, please-"

And he was back, sitting on the curb of Arapahoe Street, his shirt sticking damply to his back, his body bathed in sweat. In his ears he could still hear that huge, contrapuntal booming sound and smell his own urine as he voided himself in the extremity of his terror. He could see that limp hand dangling over the edge of the tub with blood running down one finger, the third, and that inexplicable word so much more horrible than any of the others: REDRUM.

And now sunshine. Real things. Except for Tony, now six blocks up, only a speck, standing on the corner, his voice faint and high and sweet. "Be careful, doc..."

Why did we choose this extract?
The Shining offers us both, and does so pretty superbly. For most of the novel, we have the 'terror' drawing us in and creating what feels like a very real fear of the Overlook Hotel. Then it's within these last one hundred pages that you really start to see the 'horror' coming out.

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You’re lovely, but you’re empty,” he went on.  One couldn’t die for you.  Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you.  But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she’s the one I’ve watered.  Since she’s the one I put under glass.  Since she’s the one I sheltered behind a screen.  Since she’s the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three for butterflies).  Since she’s the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all.  Since she’s my rose.”

And he went back to the fox.

“Good-bye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” said the fox.  Here is my secret.  It’s quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart.  Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.”

“Anything essential is invisible to the eyes,” the little prince repeated, in order to remember.

“It’s the time you spend on your rose that makes your rose so important.”

“It’s the time I spent on my rose…,” the little prince repeated, in order to remember.

“People have forgotten this truth,” the fox said.  “But you mustn’t forget it.  You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed.  You’re responsible for your rose…”

“I’m responsible for my rose…,” the little prince repeated, in order to remember.

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https://padlet.com/abb7/2ub7vo3us8ek

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The sign of the Four - Sherlock Holmes - Stephanie 

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The sign of the Four - Sherlock Holmes - Stephanie 

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Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantel-piece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.

Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching to a liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him.

Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer.

Why did you choose this extract?
I chose The sign of the Four extract because it uses different techniques which creates imagery. In the beginning of this extract Sherlock Holmes uses triplets " With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle," the use of triplets adds emphasis, it attracts and engages the reader by the strong adjectives and keeps the reader thinking. In the beginning Sherlock Holmes gives us an idea of drugs as it begins with an alarming scene filled with violent imagery. In the imagery of the triplets he uses symbolism as he trying to show that this guy is a drug addict and he symbolises it with using triplets. Later on the extract he tells us that he does drugs.

Moreover, the use of sentence structure clearly stands out in this extract. " His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him." The use of this long sentence creates emphasis as it stands out in this extract. Sherlock Holmes might have used a long sentence to slow down the pace of the description to create a sense of relaxation, tranquillity and calmness.

Furthermore, this extract is really effective as it was written in first person. The use of first person keeps the extract natural. When a story is written in first person point of view, the information the reader receives is seen only through the eyes of the narrator. So our understanding of the characters, conflict and plot development are based on what we learn from the narrator. In addition, because we can only know what this narrator knows, we can be as surprised as the narrator when something unexpected takes place because the narrator's knowledge is limited. The first paragraph seems to be written in third person but, later on it changes to first person, this is effective as there is a smooth contrast between the two paragraph.

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By: Abdullah J, Tariq, Khaled

Chapter 1

Summary

A fair-haired boy lowers himself down some rocks toward a lagoon on a beach. At the lagoon, he encounters another boy, who is chubby, intellectual, and wears thick glasses. The fair-haired boy introduces himself as Ralph and the chubby one introduces himself as Piggy. Through their conversation, we learn that in the midst of a war, a transport plane carrying a group of English boys was shot down over the ocean. It crashed in thick jungle on a deserted island. Scattered by the wreck, the surviving boys lost each other and cannot find the pilot.

Ralph and Piggy look around the beach, wondering what has become of the other boys from the plane. They discover a large pink and cream-colored conch shell, which Piggy realizes could be used as a kind of makeshift trumpet. He convinces Ralph to blow through the shell to find the other boys. Summoned by the blast of sound from the shell, boys start to straggle onto the beach. The oldest among them are around twelve; the youngest are around six. Among the group is a boys’ choir, dressed in black gowns and led by an older boy named Jack. They march to the beach in two parallel lines, and Jack snaps at them to stand at attention. The boys taunt Piggy and mock his appearance and nickname.

The boys decide to elect a leader. The choirboys vote for Jack, but all the other boys vote for Ralph. Ralph wins the vote, although Jack clearly wants the position. To placate Jack, Ralph asks the choir to serve as the hunters for the band of boys and asks Jack to lead them. Mindful of the need to explore their new environment, Ralph chooses Jack and a choir member named Simon to explore the island, ignoring Piggy’s whining requests to be picked. The three explorers leave the meeting place and set off across the island.

We chose this extract because it seemed like an interesting extract to analyse. we found that the very detailed explanations and we know that there are complex images that are yet to be ucovered