Character Sketch free essay sample

Who would think that an old fragile woman would have such a feisty personality in her childhood? Yes, we are talking about the one and only Kim Cowley from the play script â€Å"Brother in the Land† During her time of youth, Kim was what every girl would wish to be. Throughout the play script, she has been described very determined, fearless and ambitious. The true characteristics of a great leader. When Kim was first introduced into the story, she was shown very wild and selfish. When her ‘so-called’ friends tried to steal her bag of food after the tragic nuclear attack, she was ruthless and attempted to kill one of them, and would have finished the job if Danny had not stopped her. She does not regret her actions at all, as after the fight for food ended, she said â€Å"He wouldn’t have thought twice about doing (killing) me in. Then simply tell what happened as you spent time together. From time to time, describe the persons gestures or facial expressions. It is important to put words into the persons mouth in direct quotations. As you work on this paper, you should decide what kind of emotional reaction you want the reader to have in relationship to this person. What kind of details can you select to create that emotional reaction? Avoid making broad characterizing statements; instead, let the details you give suggest general characteristics. Let the reader draw her own conclusions. Example of a Character Sketch Grandma Atkinson (Courtesy of the Northern Illinois University Writing Across the Curriculum Program) We pulled into the gravel driveway and nudged the front bumper of the 1953 Chevy up to the left garage door. Climbing out of the car, we walked across the driveway to the homemade brick sidewalk, past the patch of blooming, orange day lilies, around the corner of the large, white, frame house to the green screen door. As we opened the squeaky door, we passed from the bright sun of a mid-summer day in Bertrand, Nebraska, into the back porch of Grandpa and Grandmas house. Our eyes needed to adjust to the darkness, but we could make out the coveralls hanging on the far wall, a bushel basket in one corner, and a pail with garden hand tools against another wall. We stepped up a step into the kitchen, a window to our left and old, white wooden cupboards with counters lining the two walls to our left. At the end of the isle between the two sets of cupboards was a gas stove on one side, and a squat-looking refrigerator with rounded corners across the isle. A coffee pot sat on the stove, and I could smell the rancid aroma of over-cooked coffee. Passing on through the narrow kitchen, we stepped into the spacious dining room, dominated by a large round, wooden table. Anyone home? You here, Mom? My mother called out. About the same time, Grandma appeared in the door of her bedroom across the room from where we stood. Glory, be! Look whose here. Grandma said, wiping her wrinkled hands on her faded apron. She shuffled slightly as though she were about to step on into the dining room, but before she could make her move, my mother had dashed across the room and was giving her a hug. Dad and I followed sheepishly across the room, knowing that the mandatory hug was about to happen. When it was my turn, I could feel the soft, loose flesh of Grandmas sagging arms as she hugged me close and placed a wet smack on my turned cheek. Grandmas lavender-scented perfume obliterated the faint whiff of mothballs that permeated Grandma and Grandpas house. She was a small woman, not much taller than me, much shorter than my mother. She had pure white hair that she always wore up in an old fashioned bun. Here hair was actually quite long. I know because every night she would comb it out, leaning forward and combing the hair from the back of her head down to the floor in long strokes that looked like they tired her sagging arms. Grandma always wore dresses that hung to mid calve, usually buttoned up the front, covered by one of her many faded aprons. It wasnt long before we were all sitting around the large, round wooden table in the dining room, looking out through the large windows, draped in white sheers, to the large side yard where my favorite apple tree stood. It was time for the 4:00 coffee break. Grandpa had come in from the garden where he had been pruning tomato plants, their pungent odor still clinging to his hands. Grandma had made a pot of fresh coffee, adding an egg white to the boiling brew at the last minute to clarify the coffee. Even so, we would all find grounds in the bottom of our cups. Even though I was only seven years old, I had been drinking coffee at Grandmas house for as long as I could remember. Each of us had a coffee cup with a flower pattern, which sat on a matching saucer. A plate of rusks, dried toast pieces, was being circulated for dipping. There was also a tin with saltine crackers. I took two squares, and, when the creamery butter .