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GCSE: Writing to Inform, Explain and Describe
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Writing to inform
- 1 Give factual information and use a formal style.
- 2 Use straightforward language to convey essential information. Your audience could be anyone.
- 3 Use the present tense, write in short clear sentences, address the reader as 'you'. Use connectives and technical terms.
- 4 Break up your writing with diagrams, illustrations, images and subheadings.
- 5 You can give more information (eg: why and what you find interesting) and the genre could ask you to give instructions, write recipes, give directions or write manuals.
Writing to explain
- 1 Establish who you are writing to and why you are writing.
- 2 Genre – Explaining data, giving a speech or explaining how a mechanism works.
- 3 Purpose – To be clear, to show meaning and to make something clearer.
- 4 Write in the third person, use either past or present tenses, use clear factual language.
- 5 Give a balanced view and use connectives of comparison (whereas, though, while, unless, however).
Writing to describe
- 1 Your thoughts and feelings are important.
- 2 Genre – Writing a story, describe a scene, writing a diary entry.
- 3 Purpose is to build an image in the reader's mind.
- 4 Use adjectives and adverbs, similes, metaphors and all five senses ( touch, smell, taste, sight, sound).
I darted through every back alley existent in Manchester. As I was scampering along I cursed the two Olympic sprinters hot on my immaculately shined Gucci heels. It was just my luck to cross paths with the only two law enforcers in the entire metropolitan police force who actually possessed the power to put one foot in front of the other and run at an advisable pace, today they were making full use of that power. I was finally caught ascending a wall leading onto my old school.
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Libby can you help me with these bags please" snapped Anna her beautifully shaped figure struggerling though the front door with
Libby's dad much like Libby's mum had found other someone to love which lived with them in there house. Libby didn't like her mum's boyfriend because her treated her like a baby. When he first came over he gave Libby a Barbie doll and when she went over to her friends house he gave her two mobiles just in case one of the batteries ran out, she was only next-door! So even if Libby had the choice of staying with her mum she didn't want to. Libby didn't like her dad's girlfriend either in her eyes she was a snobby tart who wore hardly anything and had a rubbish attitude.
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All are softened during such days of paint; they are bright, but they are not bright; on everything lies the press some of touching gentleness. During such days of heats it is sometimes is very strong, sometimes even "steams" on the slopes pour on; but wind accelerates, the accumulated intense heat separates, and vortex- rotations - the undoubted sign of a constant weather - by high white posts go for a walk along the roads through the plowedland. In dry and pure air it smells ice-hole, by the compressed rye, by buckwheat; even per hour to the night you do not feel dampness.
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Quite obviously, Tim was not amused. He was, like their car, a discontented fifteen year old. His father had been a cold man in the past and had only really tried to bond with him after his mother died. Tim was old enough to remember for it was only a few years back. His father had been anxious of how to handle the situation; he wasn't prepared, and it had showed. Nowadays, it was as though he were trying to make up for the lost years of affection. Their new home was certainly deceptive, for the humble veneer the new owners saw on the outside hid what was literally an undecorated and unfurnished dump.
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The elder stood over the cauldron, her arms flailing in the air as she spoke her incantation. Spinning on her heal, her cold green eyes met with Deft's. "You only think you have won Deriun." All he could see were the eyes. All he could hear, the roar of the flames. But no longer were they the Elders. Rosalyn gazed back at him. "Why have you foresaken me?", her pained voice begged. Blackness. Void. A gentle hand reached out to him.... but he couldn't grab it, couldn't hold it, touch it. It slipped, further and further into the darkness.
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They had been for years, what seemed like friends forever. PJ was like the leader, although he claimed he didn't know it. His round pot belly and backwards baseball cap were historic trademarks in the playground's history, almost hereditary, as his father was also seen wearing them in his time at Blue Creek. Felicity was thought of as "the brains", and she liked it like this. She was studying at a 10th grade level, four years ahead of the rest of her class, but resisted being moved up away from her friends.
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Andy had never been good at making friends but when a small boy had entered his form just before Christmas he had found just what he needed. The two became inseparable, both sharing a hatred of sports. But that's where there similarities ended. While Andy enjoyed computer games and television, Mike found enjoyment in music, poetry and books. The unlikely friendship grew until they barely spent any time apart. And this would be Andy's first summer with a friend. As Andy sauntered down the cobbled driveway to Mike's house open he immediately sensed something was amiss.
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Perfect. Rain. Rain smacked the roof of the rusty red Peugeot so hard Kate couldnt even hear herself think. Let alone the corny advert blaring from the radio.
As she approached the girl, she could see that the girl was naked. She sprinted the last couple of meters and shouted, "Hello, can you hear me?" over the rain. She tried to lift the pretty blonde girl even though it was obvious that being about the same age, they were probably around the same weight. She muttered various curses under her breath, even though it was unbecoming of a lady like, as her mother would say., She heaved again and the limp body raised an inch, if that.
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"My Dad died about two months ago." She wept in anguish. I began to sympathize with her. Memories started flooding back. Why was Mum not here? She would have never made me go away like this! The train whistled just in time and the doors of our carriage slid open. A chilling surge of wind rushed in. I rapidly leaped out and landed on the solid concrete with a thump. My knee was grazed slightly, but the pain wasn't in there, it was in my heart and it sank right to the bottom of my chest.
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It was my birthday so all my friends were buying me drinks and the thought of them spiking my drinks never even crossed my mind they were decent and honest people that would never be suspected of doing something so fraudulent. I knew that my friends took drugs but in the four years that I had known them they had not once tried persuading me to take them. The atmosphere that night was utterly relaxed until the pressure started heating up "Go on they won't hurt you, it's your birthday these will help you relax and have fun," that was
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Stephen R. Covey's incredibly successful book is a pathway to wisdom and power. It offers a revolutionary program to breaking the patterns of self-defeating behavior that keep us from achieving our goals and reaching our fullest potential, and describes how to replace them with a principle-focused approach to problem solving. Covey in his book The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective People explains in-depth the 7 habits that makes people effective in their work. In the book Covey explains the concepts by giving real world examples.
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It made Barry red with rage. Dirty graffiti he thought, evil cans. He decided it was time to go on his morning inspection of the park, the park he cared for and loved. That's when he saw it. Walking towards the play park, he found the first sign of vandalism: a beer can strewn on the floor; its shiny label glinting in the morning sunlight. He picked up the can and tossed it into the black binbag, which he was gripping the top of ever tighter each time he found another piece of rubbish.
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Titanic. It was just an hour until the Titanic would set sail on her maiden voyage and I felt I little nervy about boarding her. I decided that the only way to settle my nerves was to consume a moderate amount of brandy.
He told me that he was emigrating to New York with his wife. I looked at my watch and said that I had to dash because I was meeting someone very important. I had lied, the real reason for leaving was that he smelt of gin and what I thought was tobacco or some other substance. I squeezed back through the crowd to a small opening at the bar. I ordered my brandy and whilst waiting for it I listened in on a conversation between two men who looked like engineers. One of the men was arguing that the Titanic was "too heavy and large to float" whilst the other man argued that it was "unsinkable due to its water tight compartments".
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In addition to that, she had also just celebrated her 23rd birthday. In fact she didn't even celebrate it, nor take any time off and do anything for it. The phone began to ring through. "Mr. Fogarty's office, how may I help you?" said her manager's receptionist. "Hi, this is Rachel. Could I speak to Mr. Fogarty please?" "Yes ma'am, right away." Replied Miss Jones, the receptionist. After a few seconds silence, Mr. Fogarty's deep voice was on the line. "Rachel, what time do you plan on coming in this morning? And don't you dare tell me you can't because I need those files as soon as possible, which means I better see you over here in the next half-hour or my career could be at stake.
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He grabbed his walkie-talkie and called for back up. While he waited, he tried to break up the crowd. Griffin was somewhat discouraged when the crowd of shoppers stood their ground, thirsty for blood. Finally the rest of mall security showed and the seven of them broke up the fight and moved the crowd along their way. Griffin watched the departing people and saw their lights wavering. Then he looked back at the two young men who had been engaged in the fistfight. He could tell at once which one had been responsible.
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He passed through the town centre on his way back. Only 24 hours ago it had been so vibrant and full of life, and now it was as though it had been suddenly abandoned. Shops displayed the 'Closed' sign in their windows and even the pigeons seemed to be in a rather sad mood. Zohaib saw a police car speed past him in the heavy rain. He decided to go home and ring his parents in Pakistan. Maybe hearing their voice for the first time in a few weeks could cheer his mood.
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A sudden drowsiness came over me. The moment I finally fell asleep on my mother's lap, an abrupt scream from my auntie awoke me. A strange curiosity filled the room. I looked up to my father and saw him with his face pointed towards the ground. I didn't understand what was going on. I looked around the room bewildered, as a strange unsettled feeling filled the house. I asked my mother in a soft voice what had happened, afraid that I would break the silence.
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Marco and Tina were joining us for a bit of fun and freedom. I heard faint footsteps approaching. The sound was growing louder. We turned our heads to see who or what it was. A large dark figure was walking towards us. We couldn't make out the face or the clothes because it was too dark but we could tell by the walked that it was a he. I started getting worried. Who is he? Why is he approaching us?
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Parents always tell you that if you own up they will let you off. They say that they won't do anything if you are honest- no punishment. I decided to give it a try. 'Yes,' I said. 'I used it yesterday.' He still had toothpaste on his mouth. He couldn't talk properly. 'What are these little grey hairs?' he asked. 'I used it to brush my pet mouse,' I answered. 'You what?' he screamed. 'My mouse.' He stared jumping up and down and screaming. He ran around in circles holding his throat, then he ran into the bathroom and stared washing his mouth out.
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As the night dragged on and the sound of silence drew near, all you could hear where the whispers of nearby couples, but nothing was getting to serious, all the alcohol drunk but still weed left to smoke, it didn't seem like the night was too far near dawn, by this time I was tripping badly, it was cold outside but I kept myself warm by sitting near the fire, suddenly I felt somebody touch my arm, I looked around and saw my friend Andrew sitting next to me, I had had a girly crush on him for some time
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She has this long straight sleek brown hair. Just your average hair, but somehow you were envious. She had huge round shaped eyes, coloured brown. Not your average brown, green, yellow, brown... they looked like little galaxies. Her smile was just innocent, butter wouldn't't melt. I could feel myself beginning to detest the girl. Mrs Sullivan by now was going on about the civil war. I thought to myself what on earth I was here. I know all this already. I didn't even bother to raise my hand; I just spoke out the answers.
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Fisher had been teaching at Springfield Elementary school for over five years. 'It's about time he left!' Jimmy thought to him self. He was going to see for himself when he got to school. They had arrived at school, the bus pulled up to the entrance of the school. Everyone flooded of the bus like a pack of hounds hunting for lunch. Jimmy also jumped of the bus in excitement and headed his way towards his class room. Everyone in his class was sitting down patiently for the new biology teacher to walk in.
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Sitting opposite him, Mrs Howarth laughed silently. At the Matron's office, Daevid Mike was nestled in a comfortable armchair, drinking a refreshing glass of water and eating a chocolate biscuit. This was doing very little for his sprained ankle, but nonetheless he found himself feeling content. The Matron herself was attending to her flowers, which were thriving in the fine weather. She thought that they were particularly beautiful this year, and dreamt of winning the grand prize at the local flower fair.
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Pym's account of his misadventures. Something was happening to me, it seems now, and I became increasingly intrigued. On the following morn, troubled by sleeplessness, I gave word to my editor that I would be setting out for Nantucket at day's break the following morning, Friday, the sixth of May. That day was made busy with preparations for my journey, and little did I dream that night upon resting my head. The next morning, I found myself possessed of a mild sort of apprehensive excitement, for I was doing that which was my job: going in search of the truth,
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"I know this is probably a stupid question, but can kangaroos speak?" questioned the man. "No" said the kangaroo. "So...why can you speak?" asked the man. "I can't." answered the kangaroo. "Okay, well either I'm officially crazy or may be this is the reason kangaroos cannot talk." The man said to himself. "Are you hungry?" asked the kangaroo, or didn't ask if you believe the kangaroo. "Mmmmm stony goodness, very tasty, lets get started." Said the man sarcastically with a wry smile after looking around and not noticing any source of food.
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