My writing goal so far this term has been to use strong descriptive words.

My writing goal so far this term has been to use more complex language features.

Here is a piece of writing about the rain.

How do you think I’m going with my goal?

Clouds grew darker, drip, drop, drip, drop. Rain splashed on the shivering roof. Slowly and silently, dark stormy clouds sealed the last eager peaking rays of the warm sun. All went silent. Suddenly… a loud CRACK! , FLASH!. Rain thudded down on our cold quivering bodies.We ran, tripping over each other, desperately trying to get under the covers. We panted like someone who had just ran a marathon. Gazing out the rain splattered window. Gutters gushed frantically, trying to drown the ever plunging rain drops. As I stared at the gloomy clouds above, the soft glowing sun shone a few warm rays through a few tiny gaps of the now lighter and scattered clouds. Plip, plop,plip,plop. The rain now just sprinkled down. “Hooray”!!! We all sprang outside as fast as cheetahs.

W.A.L.T. use more complex language features to enhance our writing.

Caine was cycling along a countryside road when the road slowly ripped apart in front of his eyes. Towns, rivers, valleys, hills all fell apart block by block piece by piece the Earth started to unravel it’s secrets. Caine halted to a stop. What was going on? As Caine slowly forced himself to move on foot and abandon the bike. More of the world collapsed every second. He couldn’t think straight he had to get out of this horrible truth that the earth was rebuilding itself. The sound was dreadful. Caine turned as pale as white pumice. The earth howled and screamed. Caine sprinted as fast as a cheetah but still got stuck in the horrible mess. Ominous silence suddenly wrapped around him. He hit his head so hard on something that it shot a sharp pain through his skull. Soon a sleep as deep as the darkest point of the Pacific Ocean had begun. A dream so sweet had taken place in his head although he could not stay in that world of dreams so he forced himself to wake up. The ground was littered with jagged rocks. Countless wounds covered his unprotected body. His shirt was ragged and his pants were torn. The sun blazed and scorched on his back. Hunger and thirst overflooded him. Caine struggled to keep his eyes open for danger. Would he die? His eyes finally closed. He lay on the rocks that were as sharp as an ancient rusted glass.  As he woke up, cold night air was blowing his torn clothes, the wind was so powerful, that it felt like knives tearing his skin. He was so skinny, that he could count all the bones on his rib. With an empty stomach, he moved on. What mystery would he face? "It's a big world out here" Caine whispered.