Hi again. The UNC supplement was probably one of the most diffiult to write. It took me forever to think of an idea, and I wasn't quite sure how to spin it so that I didn't look like I admired the traits of a stereotypical villain. My major concerns right now are that 1. I answer the prompt but wrote enough about me 2. cohesion 3. show not tell. Regarding 3, I feel like my entire 1/2 paragraph is to "tell" and not enough "show". Also, I'm not sure if this is too much of a character analysis vs a personal essay. Thanks in advance.
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill: It's easy to identify with the hero--the literary or historical figure who saves the day. Have you ever identified with a figure who wasn't a hero--a villain or a scapegoat, a bench-warmer or a bit player? If so, tell us why this figure appealed to you--and if your opinion changed over time, tell us about that, too.
I sigh and flop down on the couch, allowing my body to sink into the velvet cushions. The last eight hours was surely the most melodramatic high school day in the past four years. The disaster that was Homecoming asking week - advertised as promising happy endings for all - had played out like a poorly written comedy, filled with awkward moments that failed to amuse, only to frustrate. Here we were, almost adults, and still laden with the plights of socially inept middle schoolers. I absentmindedly turn on the TV, seeking solace, and flick through the channels until a melodic jingle, promoting the fictional company Veridian Dynamics, signals the start of my Thirty Minutes of Bliss, better known as the comedy "Better Off Ted."
From the depths of the high definition screen appears a tall, precisely poised woman in an elegant dress suit. Veronica Palmer, executive at Veridian Dynamics, rarely lets her hair down. The sleek knot atop her head is the icing on the cake of a frosty and highly efficient corporate mistress. Her willingness to scheme for dominance in the corporate world daunts everyone, from the cowering human resources director to the scientists who lose their speech ability in her presence. Ninety-nine percent of her actions are rooted in primitive drives: her insatiable hunger for success, which propels her to feed her sister in her sleep in order to remain the thinner sibling, resembles wolves vying for alpha status in the wild. Veronica Palmer is uncomplicated; her motivations are blatant and unrestricted by the morals and conscience that cause most people inner turmoil.
She is a breath of fresh air for anyone who has experienced the ups and downs of adolescence. Countless times in the past four years, I've closed my eyes, crossed every crossable body part, and wished that life were simpler. I've wished that dilemmas between friends due to conflicting romantic interests could be played out in black and white, and that tactless but well-meaning adults could be categorized simply as good or bad. I've wished that I could understand the reasons behind mood swings and tantrums, conformity to cliques and mindless recklessness. Veronica Palmer, on the other hand, can be explained in plain terms. She acts purely based on logic and follows the principles of cause and effect, even to a fault. She provides relief from the emotional complexity that is both a blessing and a curse in reality. When I'm unsure if tomorrow will serve up more petty arguments with my parents over the difference between B pluses and A's, she reassures with her predictability and unwavering course of action. For one carefree hour each week at 8:00 pm, I can escape to Veronica's mind and emerge refreshed, having digested a good dosage of sanity and common sense.
Aside from providing a mental breather, the character of Veronica Palmer appeals to my inner romantic. Since poring over a memoir on drug addiction in middle school, I've held that the individuals society normally labels as "bad" are simply misjudged. I trust that even "bad guys" posses sympathetic human nature that allows them to identify with others. From a psychological viewpoint, I believe that altruism threads all humans together and provides innate acuity into others' mental and emotional states. As well-written "bad guys" should, Veronica serves as this reminder that we are all human - all descended from the same ancestor. When Veronica committed the ultimate office faux-pas and had an affair with her subordinate, she surrendered her goal-oriented mentality to instantaneous gratification. The spontaneous affair didn't do anything for her beyond superficial satisfaction; it lacked a definite purpose. It didn't further her company's rank, earn her a raise, or sell a million new products. Despite her scrupulous and robotic nature, Veronica maintains a shred of humanity through the "mistake" that she made in letting her guard down. She represents the ideal notion that even the "bad guys" are vulnerable - making them not so different from the rest of us. Although this gaffe accounts for only a miniscule part of her personality, it cultivates my faith in a universal human bond.
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill: It's easy to identify with the hero--the literary or historical figure who saves the day. Have you ever identified with a figure who wasn't a hero--a villain or a scapegoat, a bench-warmer or a bit player? If so, tell us why this figure appealed to you--and if your opinion changed over time, tell us about that, too.
I sigh and flop down on the couch, allowing my body to sink into the velvet cushions. The last eight hours was surely the most melodramatic high school day in the past four years. The disaster that was Homecoming asking week - advertised as promising happy endings for all - had played out like a poorly written comedy, filled with awkward moments that failed to amuse, only to frustrate. Here we were, almost adults, and still laden with the plights of socially inept middle schoolers. I absentmindedly turn on the TV, seeking solace, and flick through the channels until a melodic jingle, promoting the fictional company Veridian Dynamics, signals the start of my Thirty Minutes of Bliss, better known as the comedy "Better Off Ted."
From the depths of the high definition screen appears a tall, precisely poised woman in an elegant dress suit. Veronica Palmer, executive at Veridian Dynamics, rarely lets her hair down. The sleek knot atop her head is the icing on the cake of a frosty and highly efficient corporate mistress. Her willingness to scheme for dominance in the corporate world daunts everyone, from the cowering human resources director to the scientists who lose their speech ability in her presence. Ninety-nine percent of her actions are rooted in primitive drives: her insatiable hunger for success, which propels her to feed her sister in her sleep in order to remain the thinner sibling, resembles wolves vying for alpha status in the wild. Veronica Palmer is uncomplicated; her motivations are blatant and unrestricted by the morals and conscience that cause most people inner turmoil.
She is a breath of fresh air for anyone who has experienced the ups and downs of adolescence. Countless times in the past four years, I've closed my eyes, crossed every crossable body part, and wished that life were simpler. I've wished that dilemmas between friends due to conflicting romantic interests could be played out in black and white, and that tactless but well-meaning adults could be categorized simply as good or bad. I've wished that I could understand the reasons behind mood swings and tantrums, conformity to cliques and mindless recklessness. Veronica Palmer, on the other hand, can be explained in plain terms. She acts purely based on logic and follows the principles of cause and effect, even to a fault. She provides relief from the emotional complexity that is both a blessing and a curse in reality. When I'm unsure if tomorrow will serve up more petty arguments with my parents over the difference between B pluses and A's, she reassures with her predictability and unwavering course of action. For one carefree hour each week at 8:00 pm, I can escape to Veronica's mind and emerge refreshed, having digested a good dosage of sanity and common sense.
Aside from providing a mental breather, the character of Veronica Palmer appeals to my inner romantic. Since poring over a memoir on drug addiction in middle school, I've held that the individuals society normally labels as "bad" are simply misjudged. I trust that even "bad guys" posses sympathetic human nature that allows them to identify with others. From a psychological viewpoint, I believe that altruism threads all humans together and provides innate acuity into others' mental and emotional states. As well-written "bad guys" should, Veronica serves as this reminder that we are all human - all descended from the same ancestor. When Veronica committed the ultimate office faux-pas and had an affair with her subordinate, she surrendered her goal-oriented mentality to instantaneous gratification. The spontaneous affair didn't do anything for her beyond superficial satisfaction; it lacked a definite purpose. It didn't further her company's rank, earn her a raise, or sell a million new products. Despite her scrupulous and robotic nature, Veronica maintains a shred of humanity through the "mistake" that she made in letting her guard down. She represents the ideal notion that even the "bad guys" are vulnerable - making them not so different from the rest of us. Although this gaffe accounts for only a miniscule part of her personality, it cultivates my faith in a universal human bond.