ESSAY OPTION 1.
"A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies." ïOscar Wilde.
Othello and Iago. Dorothy and the Wicked Witch. Autobots and Decepticons. History and art are full of heroes and their enemies. Tell us about the relationship between you and your arch-nemesis (either real or imagined).
Below is a thank-you email I sent to my English teacher over the summer after I got my AP score. It progressed from a simple thank you to a full on short story as a result of summer boredom, but my teacher gave me the idea to incorporate it into an essay somehow and I thought that this one from UChicago was perfect. Any ideas for rewording or additions to make it fit the prompt a little better? I would also appreciate any feedback and criticism on what I have right now.
One idea I had was adding an introduction that made it kind of like an epic story from a bard or something? I thought that might add to the quirky and weird humor already demonstrated in the email. Thoughts?
Mrs. Lehman, I arrived home today to discover that my AP test results had arrived in the mail. With eager eyes and a spring in my step, I bounded upstairs to my bedroom. Though nervous, I had harbored high hopes since that fateful May morning, for I believed I had been taught by the best. Sweat saturated with aching anticipation, my shaking hands tear open the letter. Almost of its own accord, a small gasp escapes my lips. Do my eyes decieve me? Dare I believe what I see? Quickly, my disbelief turns to anger, my anger to hatred! Who is to blame? Who is responsible? I curse to the heavens for all to hear; I curse the name Nancy Lehman. Crashing to my knees, I throw my head back and howl -- an unnatural, unworldly howl. No! No! No! Too late, I realize what is happening to me. My senses sharpen. My finger grow to form huge claws. My hair twists and curls until my body is covered in a thick coat. I let out another howl as my werewolf transformation completes.
With a snarl, I remember how it all began. It was a cold winter night -- one of the coldest of the year. I had just finished my daily seven hours of studying at the library for AP English. But I was not bitter; in fact, I was the opposite. I knew that my hard work would pay off, and I would triumph come May. Everything changed when I took those fated first steps toward my car. Over to my left, I heard a low, menacing growl. In a whirlwhind of claws, teeth, and snow, I found myself on my back in a puddle of bloody slush. Pinning me to the ground was a giant wolf, its fangs gleaming in the moonlight and hot breath in my face. And just as fast as it came, it was gone. Clutching my bleeding chest, I sat up with a groan. Then everything went black.
The next morning, I woke to find myself naked and shivering in a nearby neighborhood with no recollection of the previous night's events. However, I was not without clues. All around me were the shredded remains of what look like roughly 42 people, and the taste of flesh and blood still fresh on my tongue. Fortunately, that morning was a garbage pickup day, and I easily disposed of all evidence of my bloody feast. Several unsuspecting Minooka residents were convicted of murder later that week, but I arrived at school that day with not one person aware of my dark secret. For several hours, guilt gnawed at my insides. But then I remembered why it was all worth it -- I was going to do well on the AP test. I threw myself into my studies and suppressed my guilt along with my secret and the bloody urges that accompanied it. That was my first and only episode -- until now.
With every muscle I struggle; I fight against the all consuming blackness. But a devilish thought enters my head, and I allow the transformation to take over me. As I concede to the darkness, I focus on a single thought: GET LEHMAN. With a jolt, I wake up.
"Did I get her?" I wonder aloud. Looking around, I realize with horror that I did not. My feral instincts were too strong, my urges too great. Littered around me are the small corpses of babies and puppies, most of them with teeth marks and chunks of skin missing. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I cry into the open air, "Curse you, Nancy Lehman! I ate all these babies and puppies, and it's all your fault!" Letting out a loud sob, I sink to the ground, contemplating all I had been through in the name of AP English.
"A 5 out of 10," I mumble to myself, "How could they give me a 50%?" Wait a minute... My face brightens as I remember that the AP test is scored out of 5, not 10. "Cool beans!" I exclaim. With a smile on my face, I get to my feet and skip off into the sunset whistling "Yankee Doodle."
Thanks for everything!
Mike McNulty
"A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies." ïOscar Wilde.
Othello and Iago. Dorothy and the Wicked Witch. Autobots and Decepticons. History and art are full of heroes and their enemies. Tell us about the relationship between you and your arch-nemesis (either real or imagined).
Below is a thank-you email I sent to my English teacher over the summer after I got my AP score. It progressed from a simple thank you to a full on short story as a result of summer boredom, but my teacher gave me the idea to incorporate it into an essay somehow and I thought that this one from UChicago was perfect. Any ideas for rewording or additions to make it fit the prompt a little better? I would also appreciate any feedback and criticism on what I have right now.
One idea I had was adding an introduction that made it kind of like an epic story from a bard or something? I thought that might add to the quirky and weird humor already demonstrated in the email. Thoughts?
Mrs. Lehman, I arrived home today to discover that my AP test results had arrived in the mail. With eager eyes and a spring in my step, I bounded upstairs to my bedroom. Though nervous, I had harbored high hopes since that fateful May morning, for I believed I had been taught by the best. Sweat saturated with aching anticipation, my shaking hands tear open the letter. Almost of its own accord, a small gasp escapes my lips. Do my eyes decieve me? Dare I believe what I see? Quickly, my disbelief turns to anger, my anger to hatred! Who is to blame? Who is responsible? I curse to the heavens for all to hear; I curse the name Nancy Lehman. Crashing to my knees, I throw my head back and howl -- an unnatural, unworldly howl. No! No! No! Too late, I realize what is happening to me. My senses sharpen. My finger grow to form huge claws. My hair twists and curls until my body is covered in a thick coat. I let out another howl as my werewolf transformation completes.
With a snarl, I remember how it all began. It was a cold winter night -- one of the coldest of the year. I had just finished my daily seven hours of studying at the library for AP English. But I was not bitter; in fact, I was the opposite. I knew that my hard work would pay off, and I would triumph come May. Everything changed when I took those fated first steps toward my car. Over to my left, I heard a low, menacing growl. In a whirlwhind of claws, teeth, and snow, I found myself on my back in a puddle of bloody slush. Pinning me to the ground was a giant wolf, its fangs gleaming in the moonlight and hot breath in my face. And just as fast as it came, it was gone. Clutching my bleeding chest, I sat up with a groan. Then everything went black.
The next morning, I woke to find myself naked and shivering in a nearby neighborhood with no recollection of the previous night's events. However, I was not without clues. All around me were the shredded remains of what look like roughly 42 people, and the taste of flesh and blood still fresh on my tongue. Fortunately, that morning was a garbage pickup day, and I easily disposed of all evidence of my bloody feast. Several unsuspecting Minooka residents were convicted of murder later that week, but I arrived at school that day with not one person aware of my dark secret. For several hours, guilt gnawed at my insides. But then I remembered why it was all worth it -- I was going to do well on the AP test. I threw myself into my studies and suppressed my guilt along with my secret and the bloody urges that accompanied it. That was my first and only episode -- until now.
With every muscle I struggle; I fight against the all consuming blackness. But a devilish thought enters my head, and I allow the transformation to take over me. As I concede to the darkness, I focus on a single thought: GET LEHMAN. With a jolt, I wake up.
"Did I get her?" I wonder aloud. Looking around, I realize with horror that I did not. My feral instincts were too strong, my urges too great. Littered around me are the small corpses of babies and puppies, most of them with teeth marks and chunks of skin missing. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I cry into the open air, "Curse you, Nancy Lehman! I ate all these babies and puppies, and it's all your fault!" Letting out a loud sob, I sink to the ground, contemplating all I had been through in the name of AP English.
"A 5 out of 10," I mumble to myself, "How could they give me a 50%?" Wait a minute... My face brightens as I remember that the AP test is scored out of 5, not 10. "Cool beans!" I exclaim. With a smile on my face, I get to my feet and skip off into the sunset whistling "Yankee Doodle."
Thanks for everything!
Mike McNulty