Using the elliptical tool we can make a circle around the white ball and wait for the “running ants” to appear. After that we can click on the layer mask on the bottom right of the screen.

 

 

Firstly click on the icon that looks like a yin and yang. Then go to solid color and select the color you would like. Press ‘ok’ and select the layer. Use brushes to play around with the image, selecting different brushes from the top left side of the screen.

 

 

 

 

Part 1 –

Gaussian blur used to improve the look of skin.

History tool used to make the eyes and mouth clearer.

Dodge brush used to whiten the teeth and eyes.

 

Go up to filter and select liquefy. Use different brush sizes to adjust the image

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Step 1 – Select the right layer

Step 2 – Click the add vector mask

Step 3  – Select the mask and it will have a white double border

Step 4 – Select brush size and go

definition of Review – 

“a critical appraisal of a book, play, film, etc. published in a newspaper or magazine”

What does the reader expect?

A reader would expect to be told all the relevant information about the film such as the actors, genre and director. They would want positive and/ or negative feedback in order to determine whether to watch the film or buy the product. They also expect the reviewer to be an expert.

What makes a review?

• What happened
• Wider details
• unbiased / bias
• opinion
• critical
• Insight / background
• synopsis
• specific aspects
• comparisons
• speculation

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Using the opacity tool we can dampen the colours

Aims-

• To demonstrate a knowledge of implicit in text
• What is a memoir?
• Demonstrate a knowledge of synonyms

 

 

What is the writer doing when he/ she chooses specific words in their writing?

Specific words are used to create an atmosphere and/ or tone that helps to immerse the reader in a peace of writing. Specific words are also used to give the reader an idea about the character such as how they perform certain actions or what they are thinking.

 

Definitions-

Implicit- suggested though not directly expressed

 

 

Synonyms for-

Good-

acceptable
acceptable
bad
excellent
exceptional
favorable
great
marvelous
positive
satisfactory
satisfying
superb
valuable
wonderful
ace
boss
bully
capital
choice
crack
nice
pleasing
prime

 

Bad-

• atrocious
• awful
• cheap
• crummy
• dreadful
• lousy
• poor
• rough
• sad
• unacceptable
• blah
• bummer
• diddly

 

Big-

• husky
• jumbo
• mammoth
• mondo
• monster
• oversize
• packed
• ponderous
• prodigious
• roomy
• spacious
• strapping
• stuffed
• super colossal
• thundering
• voluminous
• walloping
• whopper
• whopping

 

Tired-

• annoyed
• bored
• distressed
• drained
• exasperated
• fatigued
• irritated
• overworked
• sleepy
• stale
• beat
• collapsing
• consumed
• drooping

 

Run-

• break
• race
• rush
• spurt
• amble
• bound
• canter
• dart
• dash
• drop

 

Funny-

• absurd
• amusing
• droll
• entertaining
• hilarious
• ludicrous
• playful
• ridiculous
• silly

 

Happy-

• cheerful
• contented
• delighted
• ecstatic
• elated
• glad
• joyful
• joyous
• jubilant
• lively

Know-

• be informed
• be learned
• be master of
• be read
• be schooled
• be versed
• feel certain
• get the idea
• have down pat
• have information
• have knowledge of
• keep up on
• on top of

 

Ernest Hemingway’s short story-

“For sale: Baby shoes, never worn”

 

How does the punctuation, choice of words and word order work?

The use of the coma after “baby shoes” gives the impression of a deep breath, almost as though the character in the story is regretfully putting the shoes up for sale. The decision to use “Baby shoes” puts more emotion into the story. A regular pair of shoes up for sale would be pretty normal, however baby shoes give the impression that whoever did not get the chance to wear them was very young. This brings out empathy from the reader towards the character.

 

Analysis of short stories-

“Nixon childhood, Reagan teenager, hope finally.” – By Tonia Mohammed-Madejczyk

This short story shows how the author has grown up through two white presidents and finally has hope now Barrack Obama has become president.

 

“Born bald, grew hair,

 

Timeline of my life- This will help me with ideas when it comes to writing my own 6-word memoirs.

• Born 10th September 2001 in Ashford, Kent
• Moved house at a few months old
• Went to nursery
• Finished nursery
• Started primary school
• Made friends and learned many things
• Began playing football but wasn’t very good
• Got ready for end of year 6 exams
• Passed my my exams and got into grammar school
• Made friends at new school and progressed with football
• Continued to study whilst joining another football team
• Won leagues with both football teams, as well as cups and tournaments
• Did my GCSE’s and left one football team
• Finished secondary school and progressed onto college after passing all my exams
• Finished playing football for a while

 

My own memoirs- using what I have studied in today’s lesson, I have written some 6-word memoirs of my own

Bus halts, students disembark, fearful eyes…

Refs whistle blows, bright eyes, victory

Envelope received, nervous expectation, deep regret

Bag in locker, takes seat, unsure

Looking forwards, memories behind, friends also

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Visual – stanza

rhythm – flow

moral

emotionally connected

Break down of McDonald’s slogan

“Two all-beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions on a sesame seed bun”

• The passage itself has poetic qualities

Two all-beef patties,

special sauce,

lettuce,

cheese,

pickles n’ onions,

on a sesame seed bun

Poetic devices

Enjambment- Continuation from one line of verse into the next

alliteration- use of the same consonant at the beginning of each word

mood- a characteristic state of feeling

couplet- a stanza consisting of two successive lines of verses

foreshadowing- the act of providing vague advance indications

This exercise involves writing a poem in the style of Frank O’Hara’s “Ave Maria” and “Having a coke with you”.

Mothers of Britain

allow your kids out this summer

kick them out into the wide open world so you can have time to yourselves

its time to let them experience life to the full

you cant shelter them forever

for when the time comes that you are gone

and they have no one but themselves

they will be a victim of reality

They will learn to appreciate what you have done

be it now or in many years

you can rest easy knowing the experience you have provided

may save them from the future that awaits.

Opposites

In this poem I have written about myself, however everything is the opposite of me in real life.

Some might say I’m as tall as the mountains,

Head in the sky like the biggest of fountains,

Lazing about in my house all day,

Watching the night turn into day,

Playing sports is just not for me,

I’d much rather watch some TV

A poem containing exquisite, listen and glistens

life is good but not exquisite,

sometimes demons come and visit,

They bring bad thoughts but I don’t listen,

As I look to the skies and heaven glistens…

Bird shooting 

Bird shooting season the men make marriages, with their guns my father’s house turns macho as from the hunters gather All night countless women stir their brews: hot coffee chocolata, cerassie wrap pone and tie-leaf for tomorrow’s sport. Tonight the men drink white rum neat. In darkness shouldering their packs, their guns, they leave we stand quietly on the doorstep shivering. Little boys longing to grow up birdhunters too little girls whispering: Fly Birds Fly-

Greg made us change the structure of the above passage, and turn it into a poem:

Bird shooting season the men make marriages,

with their guns my father’s house turns macho as from the hunters gather,

All night countless women stir their brews:

hot coffee chocolata, cerassie wrap pone and tie-leaf for tomorrow’s sport,

Tonight the men drink white rum neat,

In darkness shouldering their packs, their guns,

they leave we stand quietly on the doorstep shivering. Little boys longing to grow up birdhunters too,

little girls whispering:

Fly Birds Fly-

In my poem I have split the passage into separate lines with coma’s at the end to help the flow of the poem. The coma’s allow a short pause at the end of each line and make the rhythm sound more poetic.

 

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This exercise involves adding pictures to in design. Firstly we add a box using the file and place tool on the right hand side of the screen. We then went to place and added an image. We also used insert image and then the arrow keys to put put multiple images onto the page.

 

 

 

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This is the links menu which shows us the location of the images. The in design will access when we go to print or pdf. If the original images are missing or renamed, a red circle containing question mark will appear in the links menu. Click the chain icon at the bottom to re-link file. To package a file we save it first and then go to package. It allows us to duplicate all links, fonts and files.

 

 

 

Syntax – 

the arrangement of words and phrases to create well formed sentences in the English language.

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Showing and not telling –

The phone began to shrill it’s daily alert as she made her way downstairs. “Sally speaking, who is this?”, she demanded angrily. The man on the end of the phone was the man who’d called her for the past seven days. “I hate you cold callers, you never learn!”, she shouted as she slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

This exercise involved turning a ‘telling’ narration into a ‘showing’ narration using dramatization, spoken dialogues and other techniques.

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Specificity-

Descriptive writing or the art of painting a picture in your readers mind.

• “A guy walks into a bar and orders a drink”, is a basic sentence.
• “A guy walks into a bar and orders a drink. He was and old and tired, and he wanted to escape his loneliness by getting very drunk”, is better but still quite generic.
• “A grizzled prospector stumbled into the darkness of the saloon and demanded a bottle of whisky”, is far better is it shows us the character and setting but does not tell us much. We can make out through the words “prospector” and “saloon” that this is set in the wild west.

“The darkly clad youth slunk into the bar, his face masked by the shade of a dark baseball cap. He took the seat at the end of the bar and stared intently at the rows of liqueur with glazed eyes that told a thousand stories.”

“The huge mass of muscle burst through the doors of the bar with the force of a tsunami. Eyes burning with magma like fury he sat down at the bar and demanded a shot of vodka to calm himself.”

“The diminutive figure of a small man heaved his way into the pub and clambered upon the nearest stool. Waiting for everyone else to order, he quietly asked for a glass of lemonade and sat looking at the floor.”

This exercise involved starting with the sentence “a man walked into the bar”,  and enhancing it using specificity. There is also showing and not telling through the use of words and actions to tell the story of the character.

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Strong Verbs-

(getting rid of adverbs)

She walked slowly across the room

• Glided
• Inched
• Crept
• Shuffled
• Lumbered

“She sat in the middle of the room amid the roar of a deafening silence. Arms griped like a vice around her knees that were up to her chest, and staring out of the window with a glazed expression and deathly pale face. She slowly rocked from side to side in moonlight amid the horrors of the nightmare she lived.”

“Her whole body shivered, as she sat uncomfortably on the back seat of the bus. She was sure her fingers and toes would be be black and blue when she removed her gloves and socks.”

“His eyes darted from side to side as he peered through the tiny gap in his bedroom curtains. He was still there. On seeing this, his pulse accelerated and his legs turned to lead. What did he want?”

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World War 1 writing exercise-

A shell exploded nearby when the shattered remains of C-Company emerged from their dugout, which had begun to cave in under the sustained shock waves of artillery shells. The “steel rain” as the men called it, had began to fall like a monsoon and was peppering the front line trenches with sustained fury. This however was just a warm up for the main offensive as once the storm had subsided, the hordes of grey coated figures would spill out from their lair like angry ants and sweep towards them.

Silence. The guns had gone quiet and the signal was raised for machine gunners to get into position as the first brave German poked his head out from the opposite trench, with others quickly following suite. The men of C-Company lined up on the fire-step and locked eyes with the men who had killed many of their friends. The hatred they felt channeled into the way they fought, with no mercy and devilish relentlessness. As the enemy got to the first coils of wire, the machine guns and rifles opened up. A symphony of heavy firepower played up and down the line. Screams of the wounded were all but drowned out. The whole display was that of sinister magnificence as men fought and died for their countries, showing not an ounce of fear as bullets whizzed passed and flamethrowers spewed tongues of burning fuel onto hapless victims. This was the nature of the new era of combat, and the remains of C-company were already veterans.

As the last of the helpless Germans began to retreat, the dreaded shrill of the officers whistle sounded. It’s death call spread up and down the line, signaling for  C-company and the other British soldiers to give chase. Almost certain death awaited. The men knew that the battered and bruised German soldiers would be awaiting them, machine guns and rifles at the ready. Any man who did not go ‘over the top’ would be shot by his own commanding officer, so the men said their prayers, took a quick drink and clambered up into the hell hole which was no-mans land. The freshly deceased bodies of hundreds of dead enemy soldiers lay all over the battlefield. Many were piled up against the wire, like leaves blown against a fence by the wind. Some were not dead. They pleaded for help as the men advanced forward, but most were met with a swift bayonet to the heart or single shot to the head. No mercy. It was kill or be killed out here. C-company hadn’t even reached the middle of no-mans land before the first machine gun nest opened fire. The flashes, a haunting memory to those who survived them. Men were torn apart in seconds, they didn’t stand a chance. This was war, and war did not change…

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Extended Metaphors-

Extended metaphors

Religion:

• Worship
• Prayer
• God
• Vicar
• Pope
• Allah
• Buddha
• Holy book
• Call to prayer
• Jihad

Education:

• Education
• School
• Headmaster
• Teacher
• Lessons
• School bell
• Knowledge
• Homework

“The morning call to prayer sounds. Students file into their respective classrooms, greeting the vicar as they pass. Holy books at the ready, the vicar begins his sermon. The teachings used for hundreds of years adapted for today’s worshipers. Over the loudspeaker, the pope announces his words of wisdom and summons those who have sinned. Punishment is swift for those students who sin; heaven or hell is decided only by the gods.

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Cricket:

• Hit for four / six
• Runs
• Bowling
• Umpire
• Caught out
• Stumped
• Score a century
• Golden duck
• agonizing defeat
• Training
• Declare
• Team

 

Life:

• Good times
• Bad times
• Achievements
• Learning
• Death
• Family

 

“When we’re born the match begins. We train at school to prepare for the game ahead, which in the end presents either victory or defeat. Early on we all want to avoid that golden duck when we go in for our turn to bat; it’s a major setback in our progress and can push us back even further mentally. Avoiding it sets us up for a strong game. But throughout life we’ve to dodge other challenges whilst aiming for victory. Going for a big swing in life and getting caught is demoralizing as we aim high but miss the target. It’s far better to hit many fours than one big six. Many small achievements mean more than a large one. At the end of the day we all want our century. That big one hundred on the board to show how much you’ve achieved. Whether your century is a dream job, fame or fortune, just remember its easier to take the fours on the road to one hundred.”

To create a print ready document we must go to file then custom. We must then use these settings.

 

 

 

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Using the different settings we can change the image

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Genres 

• Comedy –
• Horror  – gory, blood, supernatural, jump scares, grave yards, isolated places, ghosts, zombies, dolls, clowns, vampires.
• Crime – criminals, murder, shock, police, clues, twists and turns,
• Romance –
• Thriller –
• Sci-Fi –
• Historical –
• Coming of age –
• Rite of passage –
• Fantasy – magic, wizards, happy ending,

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It was almost midnight

The smoky glaze of darkness swept over the evening sky as midnight came near

The hands of the clock raced towards 12 as midnight approached

The great owl screeched from the outstretched arm of a tree, as though to signal midnight was near

The moon heaved itself high into blackening sky as midnight approached

The delicate glow of a thousand fire flies illuminated the dark midnight shroud that enveloped the forest.

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Writing task

It was midnight, and the moon was blanketed in a thick quilt of clouds. The few rays of light that permeated the the clouds caused an eerie illumination of the mist that covered the lake and surrounding reeds. In the center of the lake stood a decrepit old shack, its tattered roof peering above the mist like the periscope of a submarine. Everyone knew about the shack. The locals used it as way to scare their children into doing their homework or tidying their rooms. “If you don’t eat your vegetables i’ll leave you on the island”, Jacks mother would say when he was young. No matter how much of an empty threat he knew it was, he’d always do what she told him to as he feared that place so much. At school children would share tales of seeing figures through the open windows of the shack. One week it would be an old woman waving, the next a clown. Everyone in the town felt uneasy about the shack, and after today’s experience Jack knew for sure they had a reason to…

 

The sun hung like a kite in the sky, casting its warm glow down upon the shores of the crystal clear lake. The water shimmered in the glorious sunshine as a group of pristine white birds came in for landing on the large strip of water. Tom watched from his window as they all set down in the water and proceeded to dive under in an effort to catch some of the fish whom also inhabited the watery paradise. It was on days like these Tom knew there was no where else he’d rather be. The sound of the water lapping at the shore and the warm, moist air filling his lungs was pure bliss.

 

Have you adhered to any genre conventions?

I have adhered to the genre conventions of both horror and r

What perspective did you write in?

What tense did you use?

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My 10 fears

Roller coasters

Losing my phone

foreign airports

 

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Rebecca- Daphne du Maurier 

Fear in this extract is that of the unknown. The writer depicts fear in the way the main character describes her husband when he remembers. “All expression dying away from his dear face as though swept clean by an unseen hand”, shows how the husband goes blank in the face after he remembers a life changing event that she has not yet found out about. She does not know what has happened in his life and what makes him turn like this. The use of a first person perspective makes the event seem all the more personal and allows us to read the emotions of both characters more clearly, almost as though we are experiencing it through the main characters eyes.

 

A cream cracker under the settee- Alan Bennett 

Fear in this extract is of growing old and being put in a home. It is almost as though she is trying to re-live her youth through her memories such as in the line “I’d leave the door on the latch and go to the end for some toffee and when i came back dad was home”. Bennett gives us the impression that the character he is writing about is resisting aging and keeps saying how all the people in homes “smell like pee” and are mad.

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Fear – Free writing

My biggest fear is spiders. Not just big spiders; big, small, hairy, poisonous or not. They’re all the same, absolutely terrifying. Their unnaturally long spin-dally legs are the stuff of nightmares and when they crawl onto you its game over for me. The pitter-patter of eight tiny feet on my skin leaves me in fits of terror. Simply looking at one makes me squirm.

It was only last night i had a horrific nightmare involving these eight legged beasts, and its one that will remain crystal clear in my mind for a long time… It all started with me lying awake in bed on a cold winters night, the eerie glow of the moon illuminating the outlines of my curtains.

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Genre – Crime

Language techniques — metaphor/ foregrounding

genre conventions — Detectives, clues, murderers, shock

tone — characterization

word choice

structure– suspense

show + don’t tell

clues and detail through dialogue

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My crime story

The time was around eight o’clock in the morning, late November, an icy breeze tugging at the tail of my trench coat and attempting to wrestle my pristine fedora from atop of my head. The sun was still rising in the East, low over the rolling prairies of North Dakota, casting a dark shadow in front of the great wooden farmhouse that stood before me. I wasn’t dressed appropriately for the occasion. Polished leather oxfords tarnished by the sea of mud and manure and loose grey trench coat leaving me vulnerable to attack from the gusts of wind that swept the desolate landscape. It was all too obvious that a big city, Harvard educated private eye like me did not belong in the rural back-country of a place like this.

I stepped up onto the porch, dimly lit by an ancient oil lamp clearly weathered over many years of service. The door was that of heavy timber adorned with a horseshoe fashioned into a door knocker, which I used to deliver three large thumps onto the door. No answer. Three more thumps. Still no answer. I was suitably annoyed by this point and paid little attention to the state of my expensive shoes as I trudged round to the back door through yet more mud. As disgusting as the big city was, it had nothing on this place. The back door faced a small paddock in which a couple of pigs foraged through the mud  for some alien looking meat that smelt appalling. The door itself was made of some corrugated metal, joined to the wall by some rusty hinges. I paused. In one of the windows I spotted the shadowy silhouette of a face peering from behind the curtains. Whoever it was had noticed me, as when I turned to examine the face closer they disappeared from view. I didn’t waste any time high-tailing it round to the front of the house, half-expecting the shadowy figure to already be long gone, however to my surprise the impenetrable door was still bolted shut. Why didn’t this person try and run? They clearly knew I was onto them so it would only be logical for them to make a break for it and escape. Something wasn’t right. A blast of cold, northern wind threatened to relieve me of my hat as I made my way onto to the front porch of the house: one hand clenched around the polished steel grip of my revolver, just in case this person – whoever they were – decided they wanted to put up a fight. I made up my mind that I was going to enter the property one way or another as I  had a warrant from the court for the suspects immediate arrest. Drawing my gun, I aimed at the first hinge that connected the door to the frame, making sure to cover my eyes with my fedora in order to stop the sparks flying into my face. With one pull of the trigger, a bullet tore into the metal and wood causing sparks, splinters and all manners of shrapnel to spray in all directions. The first hinge was off and I quickly dispatched the second causing the once impressive door to plummet inwards to the ground like the felling of a mighty oak. I took a deep breath, and made my way in.

Stepping into the farmhouse, it seemed I had stepped through a portal back to the mid 1800’s. Antique furniture sat clumsily arranged all over the place with some covered in white sheets in an effort to protect them from the dust. I noticed that one of the sofas had been relieved of its cover and was instead draped with tattered winter coat. On the floor by the sofa sat a half finished pack of beers and a heap of cigarette butts. The person who had been squatting here had clearly left in a hurry… I turned.  The screech of door hinges had broken my trance as I surveyed the scene and alerted me to the presence of a possible threat. Hurriedly drawing my revolver once again, I cautiously crept towards the room in which I presumed the sound had come from. I was nervously sweating as rounded every corner, half expecting someone to be waiting for me with a knife or gun; miles from civilization and backup a few hours away.