What Makes a Good Story?

The students are preparing to write stories about ancient Mesopotamia. This is a project that Mr. Passmore and I teach together. One goal is to weave, into their stories, accurate historical information they've learned during the first month of school. A second goal is to write (and revise!) stories that will captivate and engage the reader.

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Today, we read part of a story -- written last year, by a current 7th grader -- in order to examine some of the elements of strong narrative writing. Here's some of what the students noticed:

Ryan: The author wrote a lot of details about the narrator's emotions.

Cabria: She makes it seem that Inanna was an actual person, with real feelings and thoughts. She also captured what the characters were doing and seeing.

Reese: She wrote the story in the first person, so you could feel like you were in Inanna's shoes.

Adam: The author used a lot of salsa words. Like, instead of just saying "embarrassed", she said "my face turned beet-red."

Brody: This is a good story because it has a big problem that the narrator has to overcome.

Here's the story they were analyzing:

Smart Enough to Be a Scribe

By Martha O.

Inanna, dear, can you wake up? It’s time for the ceremony. I hope you’ve made a decision, mother said.

I smiled and nodded. 

Well, get ready! 

I put on my nicest clothes, then started with Mar to the temple, mother and father trailing behind. 

What’re you gonna be? Mar whispered to me.

It’s a surprise, I answered with a smile.

When we were there, all the twelve year olds had gathered in front of Babylon to declare their way of life. We were running late, so I was almost in the back of the line. Only three people were behind me, and I was feeling confident. 

The first person walked out. I knew the boy, Beletum. He and I were friends, until he said I wasn’t smart one day...

He declared with a smile that he would be fighting in the military. The city nodded approvingly. Beletum was strong -- a brute, if you will. He would be a great fit for the military.

I don’t know the next boy, or the girl after that. My mind wanders and before I know it, I’m on the spot. 

I will be a...

A huge knot in my throat forms as I look down into my crowd. My tunnel vision directs me straight to Hammurabi. My heart skips a beat. I could swear he nods at me.

A scribe. I will be a scribe.

The place erupts with laughter. My face turns beet-red and tears well in my eyes. I give them a gesture, asking why they are laughing at me. 

One adult yells, “She’s just a girl! How on Earth could she be a scribe?!”

Looking to my left, I see Beletum, laughing out loud. Told you so, he mouths. 

Even Mar in the crowd is stifling a laugh. 

I run off the stage. Everything's a blur, and I am lost in a sea of people, laughing, pointing, staring.

Stupid, I scolded myself. Nobody else risked being a scribe, but you felt compelled to make a fool of yourself. You could’ve been a farmer! A vet! But no, you had to try something new. Those kinds of risks just don't pay off...