What is a narrative essay

The narrative essay based on the technique

of narration.
A narrative is a story, usually about a
significant event that has happened to you,
the writer or to someone you know.
It presents sequence of events in
chronological order
The purpose of a narrative
The purpose of a narrative is to inform,
entertain, make a specific point or evoke
certain emotional response from the reader.
It should capture the reader’s interest
It should create images in the reader’s mind
The first person and third person
narrative
In first person narrative ,tell a story about a
specific event that happened in your life.
In third person narrative tell a story about
specific event that happened to another
person
Developing the body
Create coherence by writing the sequence of
events in chronological order
Use transition words that show time
Use verbs in the simple past tense
Select descriptive words to create strong
visual image
Conflict in a narrative
Conflict in a narrative is created when the
main character wants something. When
something else gets in the protagonist's way,
a conflict arises
Different types of narrative
conflict
Man vs. Self
In this mode, the conflict takes place within
the mind of the main character, and often
involves the character making a decision
between right and wrong, or other mixed
emotions
"Man vs. Man" is probably the most
common form of external conflict. This mode
lies at the heart of all dramatic arts and
places the struggle directly between the
protagonist and the antagonist -- otherwise
known as the good guy and the bad guy. In a
man vs. man conflict, the protagonist wants
something, and the antagonist obstructs the
protagonist from getting what he wants
Man vs. Society
This mode of external conflict occurs when
the protagonist is placed at odds with a
government or cultural tradition
Man vs. Nature
"Man vs. Nature" pits the main character
against the forces of nature -- in the form of a
natural disaster or a similarly dangerous
situation
Characteristics of Narrative
Writing
 All stories must have characters, also
known as the people or subjects of the story.
Story will often have a protagonist, which is
the hero or heroine. This is the central
character of the story. Often, there is also an
antagonist, which is a character who
opposes the protagonist
Plot
In addition to characters, every story must
have a plot, or events that occur. Usually, the
plot consists of five components: the
exposition, rising action, climax, falling
action, and resolution
Conflict
One of the most important components of a
story is the conflict. Conflict is very
important to creating interest in stories.
Usually, the main conflict is between the
protagonist and the antagonist, but that is not
always the case. The struggles can exist
between society, within a character, or even
with acts of nature. and natural events.
There are two basic types of conflict: internal
and external. Internal conflicts are the
struggles that occur within a character, and
external conflicts are the struggles outside
of a character. These can occur between two
characters, between characters and society,
or between characters
Setting
The setting is another component of
narrative writing. The setting is the time and
location in which the story takes place.
Overall, the setting has an important impact
on every story.
Point of view
One last component of narrative writing is point of
view. Point of view is the perspective in which the
story is told.
The two main points of view are first-person and
third-person.
If a story is told in first-person point of view, the
narrator, or person who is telling the story, is a
character in the story. In this case, the narrator is
telling his personal thoughts and opinions within
the story, using the personal pronouns me, my, and
I.

Nonsense Poems in the Big Woods of My Childhood
 "The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea [in] a beautiful pea-green
boat" (Lear). My grandmother's voice intones through the haze of
one of my earliest childhood memories. I was four years old, lying
on the earth-tone coverlet of my grandparent's bed in the loft
bedroom of their asymmetrical 1970s hippy house. It was naptime.
The sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the
kitchen and made its way up the hallway. I was drifting off, but the
familiar words penetrated the early stages of slumber. My
grandmother has a beautiful voice, and every word of Edward Lear's
nineteenth-century nonsense poem was spoken in just the right
pitch and rhythm. "They took some honey, and plenty of money,
[wrapped] up in a five-pound note," her voice continued soothingly.
I was losing the battle with sleep, but I knew how the narrative
ended. The next week on my day at Gram's house, the book was
Teddy Bear Picnic, which she would sometimes sing, or Leaves from
a Child's Garden of Verses. I was not particular; I loved them all.
Many of the peaceful moments of my early childhood had the same
features: my mom or my grandma, a book, and a warm, safe place.
In the present, I return to books, not only for mental expansion, but
also for the familiarity and stability of summer naptimes and
homeschool afternoons.
"Once upon a time, sixty years ago, a little girl lived in the
Big Woods of Wisconsin, in a little gray house made of
logs" (Wilder). The voice in this memory is different,
younger for one thing. My mother was only twenty-five,
but she had two youngsters and a toddler around her on
Hanna 2the couch. I was five, and these were the early
days of my education, which I spent at home with my two
brothers. Every day after lunch, Mum read to us from a
chapter book. Afavorite of ours was the Little House on
the Prairieseries, and our copy of the first book, Little
House in the Big Woods, sported a missing cover, cracked
spine, and bent pages. I can recall with distinct clarity
the motion of my mother turning down the page to mark
our place in the familiar tale. My later school years do not
have this idyllic quality. I have become an exacting
perfectionist who agonizes over every word read and
written, but the habits from my childhood of listening—
focus, attention to detail, enthusiasm, and organization—
continue to bring me peace.
"How do you spell frog," my seven-year-old
self demanded of my mother, who was
kneading a loaf of bread at the kitchen
counter. For a child who loved books, I
struggled to read independently, and it
affected my early ability to write. Yet, I
clearly wanted to write and followed my
indefatigable mother around asking for her
help. "Sound it out," she encouraged. "F-raw-
g." I looked at her skeptically, not feeling the
sound-it-out game. I was more interested in
my story about a boy and his pet frog. "Or
look it up." "I don't know how," I insisted
impatiently. "Then make your best guess."
Eventually, the book was finished and
illustrated, despite a few unconventionally-
spelled words. Within a year or two, I learned
to read and jumped from a first-grade
reading level to a high-school reading level in
the course of a few months. Being
conventional is overrated. At seven, I never
suspected I was behind, and because my
parents did not pressure me, I caught back
up without ever knowing. Learning to read
was another quiet, happy experience. Now,
other things do not come easily, and the
outside environment is not as kind. I suffer
more on these occasions, but in time, I catch
up when I am ready
"And hand in hand [on] the edge of the
sand, [they] danced by the light of the
moon, the moon, the moon. They
danced by the light of the moon"
(Lear). I was gone from the present as
my grandmother closed the shiny
hardcover copy of The Owl and the
Pussy-Cat and placed it back on the low
bookshelf beside the bed. The present
is not always as sunny as that day in
1996, but my grandmother's voice and
the words it repeated always keep me
steady.
Sample: Narrative Essay
The first class I went to in college was
philosophy, and it changed my life
forever. Our first assignment was to
write a short response paper to the
Albert Camus essay “The Myth of
Sisyphus.” I was extremely nervous
about the assignment as well as
college. However, through all the
confusion in philosophy class, many of
my questions about life were
answered.
I entered college intending to earn a degree in
engineering. I always liked the way
mathematics had right and wrong answers. I
understood the logic and was very good at it. So
when I received my first philosophy assignment
that asked me to write my interpretation of the
Camus essay, I was instantly confused. What is
the right way to do this assignment, I
wondered? I was nervous about writing an
incorrect interpretation and did not want to get
my first assignment wrong. Even more
troubling was that the professor refused to give
us any guidelines on what he was looking for;
he gave us total freedom. He simply said, “I
want to see what you come up with.”
Full of anxiety, I first set out to read
Camus’s essay several times to make sure I
really knew what was it was about. I did my
best to take careful notes. Yet even after I
took all these notes and knew the essay
inside and out, I still did not know the right
answer. What was my interpretation? I could
think of a million different ways to interpret
the essay, but which one was my professor
looking for? In math class, I was used to
examples and explanations of solutions. This
assignment gave me nothing; I was
completely on my own to come up with my
individual interpretation.
Next, when I sat down to write, the words just did
not come to me. My notes and ideas were all
present, but the words were lost. I decided to try
every prewriting strategy I could find. I
brainstormed, made idea maps, and even wrote an
outline. Eventually, after a lot of stress, my ideas
became more organized and the words fell on the
page. I had my interpretation of “The Myth of
Sisyphus,” and I had my main reasons for
interpreting the essay. I remember being unsure of
myself, wondering if what I was saying made
sense, or if I was even on the right track. Through
all the uncertainty, I continued writing the best I
could. I finished the conclusion paragraph, had my
spouse proofread it for errors, and turned it in the
next day simply hoping for the best.
Then, a week or two later, came judgment
day. The professor gave our papers back to
us with grades and comments. I remember
feeling simultaneously afraid and eager to
get the paper back in my hands. It turned
out, however, that I had nothing to worry
about. The professor gave me an A on the
paper, and his notes suggested that I wrote
an effective essay overall. He wrote that my
reading of the essay was very original and
that my thoughts were well organized. My
relief and newfound confidence upon
reading his comments could not be
overstated.
Then, a week or two later, came judgment
day. The professor gave our papers back to
us with grades and comments. I remember
feeling simultaneously afraid and eager to
get the paper back in my hands. It turned
out, however, that I had nothing to worry
about. The professor gave me an A on the
paper, and his notes suggested that I wrote
an effective essay overall. He wrote that my
reading of the essay was very original and
that my thoughts were well organized. My
relief and newfound confidence upon
reading his comments could not be
overstated.