What I have learnt this year.

So far this year, I felt that my understanding of Language Arts has changed, it is now deeper than before. Initially, I thought Language Arts was all about comprehension, grammar, etc,. But now we have learnt more! I am no longer so narrow minded! I have learnt about poems and limericks, which are one of the main things i have learnt in this term. It has been a wonderful experience writing them and reading them. It feels nice to make use of your imagination. I like reading short stories too. In the previous terms, we have concentrated on stories like "Village by the Sea", and "Ten Short Stories". It was greatly enjoyed as i find life stories very interesting and fun to read, it beats reading about politics! Grades are not all which matters in school. There is no point if we memorise everything, get good grades, and forget about it. What mattters at the end of the day is that we remember what our teacher has taught us and know how to make use of the skills in our daily life.

Three Or So (2)

Is that child in the snapshot me?
That little girl in the woollen dress
By a broken door in a tiny yard
She's shy and laughing and ready to run
And shielding her eyes from the morning sun.

I've forgotten the dress, and the colour of it
I've forgotten who took the photograph
I've forgotten the little girl, three or so
She's someone else now, to be wondered at
With my mother's eyes and my own child's hair
And my brother's smile, but the child who's there-----
The real soul of her------- fled long ago
To the alley-way where she mustn't go
Through the broken door in that tiny yard

In this poem, the figurative language I think is used includes:
1. Imagery(Descriptions of people or objects stated in terms of our senses)
2. Alliteration
3.Personification

The poem describes the girl... who is now gone.
"Is that child in the snapshot me?
That little girl in the woollen dress
By a broken door in a tiny yard
She's shy and laughing and ready to run
And shielding her eyes from the morning sun."
Describes how innocent the author was when she was a little kid.
"I've forgotten the dress, and the colour of it
I've forgotten who took the photograph
I've forgotten the little girl, three or so
She's someone else now, to be wondered at
With my mother's eyes and my own child's hair
And my brother's smile, but the child who's there-----
The real soul of her------- fled long ago
To the alley-way where she mustn't go
Through the broken door in that tiny yard"
Describes the sadness of knowing that the girl is no longer the same, in other words, has grown up.

I can see that in the poem, the girl is described first, before more details about her is revealed. The poem is in systematic order and allows the reader to understand the poem easily.

Reading the poem again, I think the poem is about a girl who has grown up and realises that she is no longer herself. She can hardly remember some things about an old photo, and she feels sad.

In this poem, I think the persona is speaking. It is probably for the public to read. I can sense that this poem is sincere.

The poet might feel sad while writing this poem.

It is probably organized in the way it is so that it is easy to understand. Just like introducing the characters then the plot.

The effect of the previous sentences is to highlight to everyone to treasure their childhood.

In conclusion, I think that in writing this poem, the poet hoped to let the public know that they should cherish their childhood, how they were when they were a child. The innocence, because they will definitely miss it when they grow up.

The Begging Mapler- How I was inspired.

How was I inspired to write this limerick?It is an interesting question. I have a classmate by the name of Zhang Yijia. He is an interesting person to be around. Sometime back, our class was doing beach-cleaning on a weekend. After picking 264 cigarette buds, we were resting and speaking about equipment in the game " Maplestory". We boarded the bus back to school together with the rest of the class. On the way back, our form teacher received a call from the form teacher of annother class, saying that a bag was left behind at the area our class was occupying. After a while, Yijia realised that the bag left behind belonged to him. Then he whispered to me," Luckily I did not leave my Illbi and Steely throwing stars behind". The throwing stars were referring to a sort of ammunition in the game. An incident as simple as this inspired me to write the limerick " The Begging Mapler".

Listening to Sounds

I heard the owls hooting in the dark.
I heard the sheep bleating beyond the hill.
I heard the wolves howling forlornly.
I heard the sparrows chirping in their nests.
I heard the dogs barking at strangers.
I heard the horses neigh at each other.
I heard the bulls bellow in anger.
I heard the bees buzzing in annoyance.
I heard the frogs croaking in the wells.
I heard the mice squeaking in fear.
I heard the roosters greeting the day with a cock-a-doodle-doo.
I heard the turkeys yelping away.
I heard the pigeons cooing continuously.
I heard the ducks quacking in excitement.
I heard the pigs grunting amonst themselves.
I heard the cats purring in sadness...

The Begging Mapler.

There was a Mapler named Peso
Who went running and begging for mesos
And moved with a quiver
To find with a shiver
He has dropped his bag of mesos.

"Three or So"

Is that child in the snapshot me?
That little girl in the woollen dress
By a broken door in a tiny yard
She's shy and laughing and ready to run
And shielding her eyes from the morning sun.

I've forgotten the dress, and the colour of it
I've forgotten who took the photograph
I've forgotten the little girl, three or so
She's someone else now, to be wondered at
With my mother's eyes and my own child's hair
And my brother's smile, but the child who's there-----
The real soul of her------- fled long ago
To the alley-way where she mustn't go
Through the broken door in that tiny yard

Things that struck me:
1. When I first read this poem, what attracted my attention was the idea. I totally agree with the writer of this poem as I miss my childhood too.
2. I was struck by the writer's description. The writer's description is good and it has managed to get me to imagine the scence.
3. This poem sounds sad, which suits my preference of poems. It truly made me feel sad.
4. Just like me, the writer does not seem to be able to recognise her childhood self.
Sometimes I wonder how a person like me could be such a person when I was a little kid.
5. This 3 sentences attracted me the most are:
I've forgotten the dress, and the colour of it
I've forgotten who took the photograph
I've forgotten the little girl, three or so

It attracted me the most mainly because the word "forgotten" was repeated thrice.
6. The writer has successfully illustrated what a typical kid is like. Or rather, how we were when we were a little kid. The writer managed to instill the feelings and emotions into me, the reader.

List of all those things in the poem that force their attention on me or which catch my interest for some reason.

1. The poem started with a question. It sounded more interesting, like the writer was speaking and not so much of the writer describing everything.
2. "That little girl in the woollen dress
By a broken door in a tiny yard"
Right now, reading the poem, I can imagine how it is like. It is not odd as that is how the typical young girl is like.
3. I share the same sentiments as the writer.
4. "The real soul of her------- fled long ago"
This sentence struck me. I somehow feel that the writer is no longer so innocent.

Self-written Poem

"The Happy Days of the Past"

The scorching hot sun burns the ground
Boys of St. Joseph's Institution Junior does not mind the heat
Looking out to the balding soccer field
Four boys are seen kicking a Nike ball around
I was one of them

Drenched from head to toe
Three of them look at their friend kick the ball
The ball swirled through the air
It started falling back having reached the same level as the 4th floor of any
building

The ball drops, splashing mud onto the khaki shorts of the boys
Laughter can be heard
Those happy days of primary school are over now
Looking back at the beautiful memories
I open my eyes
Fresh pearls of tears flow like a river down my cheeks

Happy times are memorable
However, I have not forgotten
There is an end to all happy times
I close the photo album of beautiful memories
And leave it in a corner of my room
Never to be opened again.

Why I like "If You Forget Me"

You may wonder why I like this poem.
Firstly, let me tell you how it resembles Figurative Language.
In Figurative Language, there are Hyperboles, Personification, Metaphor, Similes, and many more! "Aromas, light, metals,were little boats" is an example of a simile. And "shall stop" is an example of personification.
Moving on to why I like this poem, it is because the poem gives me an opportunity to imagine, with descriptive words and phrases like "wrinkled body of the log" and "crystal moon". The poem is detailed and touching. The sentences which touches me includes: But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

My Favourite Poem.

Hi People!
If you do not know, I actually have a favourite poem, that is...

If You Forget Me
By Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

Ten Short Stories--- The Way Up to Heaven

Within a jiffy, a man arrived to repair the lift.
Meanwhile, Mrs Foster enjoyed light whisky in a tall glass. Shaking the glass, the ice cubes tinkled against the sides of the glass.
"Madam, the repair is done, but it is unsurprising bright in there," said the repair-man, before picking his tool box up. And bid farewell to Mrs Foster.
"Don't you want your money?" Mrs Foster said politely to the engineer. He collected the payment with both hands from the hands of Mrs Foster.
Getting up, she suspiciously walked towards the lift. She thought: Hmm... what could have gone wrong?
Pressing a button on the side panel, the lift opened. She faced an explosion of light. Covering her eyes with her hand, she slowly opened her eyes, tryiing not to keep them wide open. She walked towards the light, into the lift. Randomly pressing any button, the lift blasted off.
She thought: This is unusual! Since when had there been so many floors in our house? It takes so long! But the lift seems to be travelling at a rapid pace!
To confirm her suspicion, she slowly removed her hands from her face. And she realised what was happening. She was in the sky, blasting off to the middle of nowhere! After 5 minutes, she realised that she was blasted into the universe! In the midst of the planets. She looked around in awe, the astronomical system! Before she managed to finish admiring the planets, she was landed in the middle of nowhere.
Looking around, she shivered and shrieked,"Where is this?! Anyone here?!"
She was surrounded by white clouds. For a while there was no reply, no sign of human life. Then she noticed a vague shape emerging from at least 50 metres away, she strained her eyes to make out the figure...
And she slowly noticed, that the person was Mr. Foster. She ran towards him in an attempt of a hug, but she ran through her husband! Mr Foster shed fresh tears. They missed each other dearly. And then Mrs. Foster said," Dear, why can't I seem to touch you? What happened to you? How did you come here? Where are we?"
Her husband replied," Dear, this is...... Heaven. The lift will disapear and no typical human being from the Earth can touch you. Come, let me bring you to God......"
Mr. Foster grabbed hold of his wife's hand and they ambled together towards a grand wooden door at the far end of the area.
Back in their house on Earth, the driver walked curiously into the lift...

Little Ironies- Male Child

They were starting to hear something, it started soft, then it became louder and louder! To such an ear-deafening extent. Worst still, the operating surgeon emerged from the operating theatre with the new-born child, making the cries of the baby even louder. Shouting through the cries, he said," Congratulations! It is a male child! I heard that your family has been longing for one for years!"
With that, he left the baby in the grandmother's arms and went back into the theatre to attend to the mother.
The proud grandmother of 8 asked,"Chuan Poon, I see that you would have to give up your idea of changing your wife, eh?" Chuan Poon's cheeks turned red.
Just then, Chuan Poon's phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. He stare hard at the little screen of the phone. It was his mistress. What was he to tell her? He rejected the call, unable to think of an explanation. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not realise that his wife had been wheeled out of the operating theatre, into a ward, and that his mother-in-law had followed.
Half an hour later, he was still deep in his thoughts, until his mistress came up to him and splashed icy cold water onto his face," So, tell me! What is the end result? Is it a boy, or a girl? Why were you so dazed?"
His eyes turned watery, and he replied," Dear, I am sorry, the kid's a boy."

Urbanisation arrives in Thul.

It has been heard of in the village, Thul, that hundreds of factories will soon be built. Well, the elders are firmly against the idea while the younger generations are looking forward to the development of this project.
According to interviews, the younger generations are supporting the idea because of the possibility that they might be able to get jobs, and that they can train their hands to work machines.
From the other side of the table, the elders know that the factories will dispose of their waste by releasing it into the ocean, and that will harm the health of marine life, decreasing the quantity of the fishermen's catch, as well as the quality of the fish.
Well, in the end, who do you think will predict correctly---the elders, or the younger generations?

Musical(Assignment for Online Learning)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkvLq0TYiwI

Name of Song:Starry Starry Night by Don Mclean.
It sounds sad. I decided on the song because in the beginning of the chapters things were mostly sad. The children's mother was ill, their father not doing anything,Hari unable to find much things to do, and they were struggling to make ends meet.

Bodily(Assignment)

Lila's reaction to Pinto's death.
http://www.aumbliss.com/crying.jpg

Lila's expression when offering flowers to the rock:
http://image51.webshots.com/51/5/44/67/463954467aQPvqc_ph.jpg

Lila's expression when the medicine-man arrives to help her mother:
http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_242/12043068183cwagj.jpg

Journal Entry(Lila)

Dear Diary,

I am feeling down today----- stressed out. I went to offer flowers in the morning to the rock without making breakfast for my sisters first. How could I be so selfish. Dad's still the same, drinking toddy excessively, still dumping himself into a corner in Mum's room, giving her room an awful stench of alcohol. Can't he be more productive, go find some work? Or at least try? Mum's seriously ill, no one knows what is wrong. She is getting weaker and weker, how I wish she could recover. It would be great to see her offering flowers and red kum-kum powder to the wock by the sea once again! If only we were more wealthy, we brush our teeth with twigs, I have heard of rich people brushing their teeth with toothbrushes. I can't expect much of Hari, it is quite obvious that I can't expect him to earn like a grown-up man. When he brought up a suggestion of following the de Silvas back to Bombay the next time we see them, I was suprised in a negative way. Although I want him to earn money, I do not want him to leave us to provide for us. We are running low on money, what can we do?! Hari spoke about an upcoming factory, but when will that happen? We can't just keep waiting! If there are hundreds of factories, then it might take years, or even decades to build the factories! Ad even if Hari can work there, what if the work is too dangerous? I do not want to lose my brother while trying to earn more money. If he works in the factories, does that mean that we have to wait for so many years? And I think they will be hiring professionals, not uneducated vilagers like us. Dear Diary, what shall I do? Well, I can only hope for the best and better. Good night.

yours faithfully,
Lila

Naturalist(Online Lessons)

Differences between Chapati and Roti Prata:

Cultural Difference: Chapati is an Indian cuisine while Roti Prata is a Malay cuisine.
Looks: Chapati is less burnt and thinner. Roti Prata is thicker and more burnt.
Consumption: According to websites, Chapatis are sometimes rolled into loose cones to put meat and vegetables inside it before eating it. But for Roti Prata, it is not so, people probably cut a small piece off and dip it into curry before eating.
*Note: Roti Prata is more moist than Chapati.(According to my observations)

Difference between Jalebi and You Tiao:

Cultural Difference: Jalebi is an Indian food while You Tiao is a Chinese food.
Taste and Texture: Jalebi is sweet while You Tiao might not be so sweet, You Tiao is mostly crispy, but it changes when you bite the outer part of You Tiao. Because the inner part of the You Tiao is soft and tender.
Shape: Jalebi is in a swirling shape while You Tiao is in a straight shape.
Ingredients: In Jalebi, more ingredients are used, such as: saffron, cardamom powder, food colouring(orange) and rose water. Thus, there is more variation in the taste and looks of the final outcome.
For You Tiao, one of the differences in the ingredients as compared to Jalebi is soda.

How to make Roti Prata:


1. Add everything to the flour , except the water .
2. Add water , a little at a time and make a soft dough that is easy to handle.
3. Leave for preferably overnight.
4. Divide dough into small equal balls .
5. Use ghee or oil and work on a flat surface .
6. Roll up each ball and twist it into a coil.
7. Roll it again as thin as possible into a round shape.
8. Roll up and coil it again as before.
9. Flatten it by flipping and tossing it .
10. 10.Put on a greased ladle and cook it until flaky and cricpy .
11. Serve hot with Fish Curry or with sugar or condensed milk.
How to make Chapati:
1.
In a large bowl, stir together the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour and salt. Use a wooden spoon to stir in the olive oil and enough water to make a soft dough that is elastic but not sticky. Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface until it is smooth. Divide into 10 parts, or less if you want bigger breads. Roll each piece into a ball. Let rest for a few minutes.
2. Heat a skillet over medium heat until hot, and grease lightly. On a lightly floured surface, use a floured rolling pin to roll out the balls of dough until very thin like a tortilla. When the pan starts smoking, put a chapati on it. Cook until the underside has brown spots, about 30 seconds, then flip and cook on the other side. Continue with remaining dough.

My Learning Style.

I am a visual learner according to the quiz I took. I learn best by seeing things and doing things. I would find reading boring, once I see a page of instructions full of words, I do not feel like reading it. I would prefer if there is a demonstration. Just like exams, when i moved on to Secondary School, I did not know the syllabus, the teacher spoke about it, but I longed for an example of an exam paper. I am therefore, a visual learner. I learn best not by reading or anything else, but by what i see.

Explanation to my ending for ''The Lady, or the Tiger?''

You might think that the princess is cruel to let her beloved one die such a horrible death. There goes the saying ''Love is blind''. The princess loved the man so much, she did not want him to have another woman, especially when the woman is someone she hates. Hence, love has blinded her, making her selfish. The princess directed the prince to the wrong door, causing his death. Therefore, love has also blinded the princess, causing her to cause her loved one's death indirectly.
You might also have noticed that I included the people's and the king's reactions, showing how much the people support the man and how much the king cares about her daughter. In the end, when the princess said,'' I am coming'', I did not describe what she did so that there would be a little uncertainty. I realise that stories which end like this usually have more impact on myself.

The Lady, or the Tiger?

The man walked calmly towards the right door, smiling. As the door creaked open, the citizens closed their eyes shut, hoping for the best. For a moment, nothing moved, it was so quiet that even the heartbeats of the people could be heard. In a flash, a tiger pounced out of the darkness of the room, charging at the handsome man. The citizens turned to hug each other, shedding bitter tears of sadness, unable to bring themselves to witness the end of an innocent man's life.
Within a minute, the man breathed his last, the tiger licking up the last drops of blood. Tears flowed from the princess' eyes like a river, running back to her room. The king stared at her daughter running back to her room, letting out a sigh...
'' Sorry, my dear,'' the princess stuttered as she weeped,'' I should not have done that. Why did I let you die such a horrible death... Why?! Why?!'' Suddenly, she stopped crying, and a thought dawned upon her: Yes, my dear, I am coming.

Journal According to the Grocer's Point of View

“Hullo Sam,” she said brightly, smiling at the man behind the counter.

“Why, good evening, Mrs. Maloney. How’re you?”

“I want some potatoes please, Sam. Yes, and I think a can of peas.”

The man turned and reached up behind him on the shelf for the peas.

“Patrick’s decided he’s tired and doesn’t want to eat out tonight,” she told him. “We usually go out Thursdays, you know, and now he’s caught me without any vegetables in the house.”

“Then how about meat, Mrs. Maloney?”

“No, I’ve got meat, thanks. I got a nice leg of lamb from the freezer.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know much like cooking it frozen, Sam, but I’m taking a chance on it this time. You think it’ll be all right?”

“Personally,” the grocer said, “I don’t believe it makes any difference. You want these Idaho potatoes?”

“Oh yes, that’ll be fine. Two of those.”

“Anything else?” The grocer cocked his head on one side, looking at her pleasantly. “How about afterwards? What you going to give him for afterwards?”

“Well-what would you suggest, Sam?”

The man glanced around his shop. “How about a nice big slice of cheesecake? I know he likes that.”

“Perfect,” she said. “He loves it.”

And when it was all wrapped and she had paid, she put on her brightest smile and said, “Thank you, Sam. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Maloney. And thank you.”

If I put myself in the grocer's shoes, I would feel that everything was usual---- Mrs. Maloney is a kind and loving wife, buying ingredients for a delicious dinner with her husband, trying her best to buy the food which her husband loves. If I were the grocer, it is of no surprise that i would be shocked when I find out from the policemen that she murdered her husband.

Conversation between 2 liars.

This is a telephone call

Yong Shen: Yizhi, how is your mapling? I heard that you have downloaded the application yesterday and have assumed that you have begun playing the game. You are surely unable to beat my game level of 80. I am an Aran.

Yizhi:I enjoy the game, and I have reached Level 150, as a Flame Wizard. Don't be too boastful, my level is so much higher than yours!

Yong Shen: Hmmm...... You are INDEED professional, so much so that you can even EXCEED THE HIGHEST LEVEL for a Flame Wizard which is Level 120! (Capital letters= sarcasm)

Yizhi: Do you not know that you can edit the level limit? And
did you not tell me that you have not played Maplestory since you achieved Level 60?

Yong Shen: (Avoiding the second question directed at him) Are you sure you have begun playing Maplestory?

Narrator: Yizhi was speechless and hung up.

Lamb to the Slaughter Reflections.

Greetings! Visitors of my blog, this is my 2nd post and it is reflections on Lamb to the Slaughter. If you have not heard of this story, this is the link if you want to watch it on Youtube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmpY9cpe6g8
I am now going to reflect on a character/a few characters' point(s) of view.
From Mary Maloney's point of view:
While waiting for her husband to return home, Mary Maloney prepared whiskey for her husband to enjoy when he reached home. She might have been the person who cleaned the house to be spick and span, and also forming a cosy ambience. However, when her husband reached home, he looked quite solemn although both of them kissed. Mary Maloney must have felt as though her hard work has not taken its desired effect. Another point to take note of was that Patrick, Mary's spouse, seemed to be troubled. Patrick's behaviour was unusual, he did not usually finish his drink in a gulp but he did on that night, and he declined his wife's offers to cook supper or dinner for him. Mary thought that all these was probably caused by Patrick's fatigue. However, there was more to this than to meets the eye.
And the truth to Patrick's bad mood was revealed after Mary offered to cook dinner or supper for Patrick a few times.
Patrick had an affair, and he wants to divorce Mary to marry his mistress. From Mary's expression, she seemed stunned, and did not seem to accept reality and went on to get her husband's supper. Her husband told Mary that he is going out and gave his wife the cold shoulder by challenging her to stop him. So she did. She took the leg of lamb which she grabbed from the freezer and swung it onto the back of her husband's head. After a few seconds, Patrick collapsed onto the floor. However, Mary did not seem to be shocked that she had just killed her husband! She remained composed and came up with a plan, and of course, the objective of her plan was to cover up her crime.
Now, looking back to what Mary maloney did, I find it quite unusual. In my opinion, she appeared to be such a loving wife in the beginning of the story/video, why did she resort to murdering her husband? Well, from her point of view, she probably was shocked by her husband's words and could not imagine how life would be without Patrick. She might not have wanted other another woman to have her husband, thus she killed Patrick.
Conclusion: Mary must have had her reasons for murdering Patrick, but let's not be like her, love can't be controlled. Before attempting to kill a person, please reconsider: Killing is a sin, you can be hung for that, and when you die, you would most likely go to Hell. Do not act without thinking.

Writing Styles.

Hi everybody,

This is my first post and it is about writing styles.(Reflections)

Beginning of the story
When writing a story, we should make character, setting, and plot important for vivid imagination.
When writing about the characters, you have to make it obvious to the reader who the main character is, one of the most common ways is to state something special or outstanding about that character which makes it stand out to be the main character. Also, we have to write more about the main character, like the obstacles the character faced.
It is important to make distinct differences between the good and bad characters, like elaborating on certain decisions made by the character(s).(e.g. Why did he do that?)
When writing about the settings, remember to show and not to tell. For example, describe the air in Cameron Highlands. Instead of saying that the air is nice, you can say: The fresh air was cooling and was filled with the fragrant scents of the flowers.
When writing, you have to show the risks(e.g. The criminal is putting a dagger to my friend's throat, if I aim to shoot the criminal with my gun, i might have to risk my friend's life).
Establishing the area of conflict: If the setting in the classroom, it might be between classmates.
Foreshadow the ending: If the main character sacrifices himself in a storm, the clouds should be black in the beginning.
In the Middle of the story

Write your story with action, keeping the reader's eyes on the book, to make the reader more enthusiastic to continue reading the book, and as I said, show, and not tell. Make sure the middle part of the story is related to the conclusion of the story. And write the reasons to certain decisions the character makes. As the plot is being develop, create more problems, which are also more serious. Keep the reader in suspense by not making the ending obvious(e.g. In the middle of the story, the main character did not seem to win the battle, but in the end, he did). Before concluding, provide solutions to the obstacles faced.
In the End

End the story by giving a mood to the ending(e.g. sad, happy). To conclude, state the reason to the ending(e.g. They lost the battle all because of......).
Things to take note of

Things in a story do not occur out of the blue, there must be a reason to each decision or fact. Do not confuse the reader, do not suddenly seem to think differently or the situation suddenly changes.
Little guidelines to writing a short story

-Setting(Few examples)
Where did it take place?(simplest question)
How was the surroundings like?
-Weather(Few examples)
How was the weather like?(e.g.If it was raining then how was the rain like?)
What was the impact of the weather on the characters?
-Atmosphere(Few examples)
What was the mood like?
What was the expression on everyone's face?
Was it quiet?
Or was it noisy?
Time(Few examples)
What is the time?
What would everyone usually be doing at this time?
What is the main character or character doing?

Writing a Good Story

Write a story which topic is one of your strongest interests, in this way, you can provide more knowledge to the eader about the story, and you know what you are writing. Did something happen in your life which caused you to remember it vividly?
What approach are you most comfortable with?(Complex, simple)
It should have an impact on the reader, or keep the reader thinking about the story even after he/she has finished reading the story.
Searchong for the potential in you to be a Short-Story Writer:

What do you think of life?(Are you a pessimist or optimist?)
Structuring a Short Story
a) Putting events into sequence
b)Perspective
Narrator's perspective
Every character's perspective
c)Focus
Knowing which part or which character to focus more on.

Reflections:
I feel that writing styles are very important as they can leave a deep impression on the reader, if you are writing a horror story, your story should be commendable if it can keep the reader afraid of certain things for days. When I read Anthony Horowitz's books, I am always feeling the suspense. My heart beats really fast when i read his stories. This proves that he has a good writing style. I am able to enjoy the content of the story without spotting anything questionable(He has good sequencing of elements). So, I hope that my writing style can be more creative to leave an impact on my readers.

Done by: Justin Foo
(I refer to a worksheet given to me for things to reflect on)