Please help me with constructive criticism for my UVA sup. essay! Prompt: "Describe one of your quirks and why it is a part of who you are"
I annotate the page with the quick, erratic scribbles of a cheap ballpoint pen, furrowing my brow quizzically at the spread of words that line the translucent yellowed paper with a laser-like precision. My exterior is that of a poised and collected prep, but it is in my novels that the rapid-fire ricochet within my mind is revealed. It is my triumph, my family's amusement, and my teacher's frustration: I always read novels in random order. I have no definite pattern, but I tend to read the first few pages, then flip hurriedly to the last page before sporadically reading chapters in between. My eyes eagerly drink in the words, question after question popping into my head as I try to piece the warped puzzle together. With the commonplace safety net of chronological order removed from my experience, every page becomes tinged with mystery and anticipation, be it from Pedro Páramo or Emma. My quirk is driven by an insatiable inquisitiveness and a perspective unlike any other. While some argue that this practice detracts from the literary beauty and cohesiveness of the book, I say to hell with beauty and cohesiveness. I blaze through the book on a path that has yet to be forged, finding meaning in the unorthodox, the untested, and the inexplicable. By rejecting the obvious, refusing to settle, and enduring the status quo, I am able to apply this singular quirk to all aspects of my life, both inside and outside the classroom. In my brief but eventful 17 years of life, I have yet to encounter another person who partakes in this habit. I am solitary in my quirk, my way of life, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
I annotate the page with the quick, erratic scribbles of a cheap ballpoint pen, furrowing my brow quizzically at the spread of words that line the translucent yellowed paper with a laser-like precision. My exterior is that of a poised and collected prep, but it is in my novels that the rapid-fire ricochet within my mind is revealed. It is my triumph, my family's amusement, and my teacher's frustration: I always read novels in random order. I have no definite pattern, but I tend to read the first few pages, then flip hurriedly to the last page before sporadically reading chapters in between. My eyes eagerly drink in the words, question after question popping into my head as I try to piece the warped puzzle together. With the commonplace safety net of chronological order removed from my experience, every page becomes tinged with mystery and anticipation, be it from Pedro Páramo or Emma. My quirk is driven by an insatiable inquisitiveness and a perspective unlike any other. While some argue that this practice detracts from the literary beauty and cohesiveness of the book, I say to hell with beauty and cohesiveness. I blaze through the book on a path that has yet to be forged, finding meaning in the unorthodox, the untested, and the inexplicable. By rejecting the obvious, refusing to settle, and enduring the status quo, I am able to apply this singular quirk to all aspects of my life, both inside and outside the classroom. In my brief but eventful 17 years of life, I have yet to encounter another person who partakes in this habit. I am solitary in my quirk, my way of life, but I wouldn't have it any other way.