The main purpose of descriptive writing is to describe something (a place, person, object, emotion, situation) so that you create an image, or a picture in the reader's mind, of what you are writing about. The key thing with descriptive writing is that you need to create / bring to life an image inside the head of your reader rather than give them a cold factual account of the thing being described. So, for example, Instead of saying that something is beautiful you need to manipulate language in order to create the impression that the thing you are describing is beautiful.

Descriptive writing, primarily uses adjectives to create imagery. This is the simplest way to describe, although, there are other literary features to be included in descriptive writing.
Similes, Metaphors, Personification Words relating to one's senses (sight/touch/hearing/smell)Showing rather than telling - e.g. 'My heart was close to bursting' rather than 'I was scared'These senses can be mixed up (called Synaesthesia) in order to heighten sensation and really bring the scene to life e.g. tasting something that you can normally only see, such as 'the warm buttery taste of sunlight on a Summer's evening' Very specific adjectives as opposed to general, commonly used ones and a sophisticated vocabulary Varied sentence lengths - short sentences followed by long sentences. Short sentences work well at the start of a descriptive writing piece to grab attention or they can be used when you want to change tone, change pace of create a sudden shock Varied sentence structures - again to help foreground the attention of the reader on the most important elements and demonstrate your control over structure to the examiner. Most English sentences are structured Actor, Verb Object - e.g. 'I (Actor) ate (verb) the apple (Object)' but a varied sentence structure might bring the verb to the front and may even put an adverb in front of that: 'Slowly (adverb) devouring (interesting verb) the apple (object) I rose from my chair and ...'Repetition to emphasis key moments, elements or ideas Order - descriptive writing usually has an element of organisation either chronologically or in order of importance. This can be disturbed if you want to and your description may be circular ending back to where it started which can be used to create an effect of inescapability, monotony or routine. An alternative structure is to start right in the middle of the action to grab the attention of the audience and then 'flash back' to an earlier point in time in order to explain the events leading up to the point where you started Alliteration, sibilance, assonance, harsh consonants, hyperbole - descriptive writing is as close to poetry as you can get in narrative writing and so use all the tools that a poet has at their disposal to create effects

Do make up facts to your work more interesting - e.g. if asked to write about you first day at school then you don't have to write about your actual first day, which may have been quite boring and ordinary or perhaps you can't even remember it. Instead write about the first day in school from hell - complete with monstrous senior studies students stalking the corridors and slime oozing from the cockroach infested salad in the canteen Do use every opportunity to display your knowledge of writing - exams are about showing off - so don't feel you have to stick to the truth if you feel you can write more interesting lies: however, your lies must be sane and believable - ridiculous descriptions will not gain you any marks Do focus on small details- these give you more to write about and more opportunities to use a variety of descriptive techniques: don't feel like you have to describe everything, or to use the example above, your whole first day. A brilliant account of your first 5 minutes in the sandpit will probably score more marks than a routine plodding through of everything that happened on your first day in kindergarten Do think like an examiner- include points that you would give marks for if you were an examiner

Don’t forget to answer the question- if you focus too much on the fine detail you can lose sight of what you’re trying to answer Don’t sacrifice detail for quantity Don’t forget to use similes, metaphors and hyperbole

1. Describe your first vacation.
2. Describe your most memorable moment.
3. Describe the day when you went to the candy store.
4. Describe your day at the theme park with your friends.
5. Describe the room you’re in.
6. Describe your adventure to the exotic island.
7. Describe your life as a dog.
8. Describe your day as a bird.

Example Answer 1

I felt my excitement building up as I walked towards the door; it was a gateway to heaven. I couldn’t believe it, as I had been counting down to this day for months. The people walking past me from the candy store looked exceedingly pleased, as if all problems in life could be solve by what lay beyond the door. Their faces glowing with delight. I was getting closer and closer to the door; I could feel my hands perspiring. I could only just reach the handle, I pushed with all my strength and it was finally it, I was in the candy store...

Example Answer 2

"You come across a shop in a side street which you have never noticed before. You enter, and are amazed at what you see. Describe the interior of the shop and the things on sale there.”

The shop was surprisingly large. In the middle of the shop was a large wooden staircase, its old, rickety steps spiraling up towards the ceiling of the room. Very little light seemed to get into the shop: the thick, musty curtains were pulled tightly shut, and the only source of light came from a dim crystal chandelier that constantly flickered on and off, sometimes leaving the entire shop in complete and utter darkness. The shop was old and musty; it smelled of old socks and unwashed clothes. The air was sticky and damp. It seemed to cling on to me, its long, bony fingers reaching out for my body. The old wooden shelves in the shop were covered with dust and cobwebs. I could hear the quiet sounds of rats scuttling across the hardwood floors, its paws scampering across the assortment of toys on the floor.

To the left of me was a wooden table, no larger than a school desk, its crimson color barely visible in the dim, shadowy light. The table was worn out and old, bits of plaster and paint were beginning to peel off, revealing a white, powdery surface. A large, bulky man was sleeping on the table. He was old, to say the least. His eyes were sullen and heavy, his face wrinkled and scarred, like the grain on a piece of wood. His face seemed to fold into itself, revealing a bony skeleton that protruded from his skin. He was sleeping heavily, but his breathing was labored and heavy, as if he was struggling to take in air. Occasionally, his eyebrows would become furrowed and his upper lip would quiver, his entire face folding into a look of intense concentration. He had a small top hat on that covered most of his head, yet tufts of grey hair would stick out stubbornly from underneath the hat, refusing to shelter within the large, cavernous interior of the hat.

I ventured further inside the shop, careful not to touch or break any of the intricately designed objects on the shelves. A small mechanical train, its cartridges painted in bright red, whizzed around the room, occasionally giving a small, weak puff of grey steam. I could hear the quiet rumbling of the engine, which seemed to have a quiet yet determined voice of its own, sometimes giving off bursts of high-pitched squeals and sometimes resorting to a low, husky rumble. It ran on a giant network of tracks that seemed to levitate magically in midair, without any support at all. There was something peculiar about this shop: something I couldn’t place my finger on.

Behind the giant network of tracks lay a small wooden puppet that sat on its own in a dim, dark corner of the room that received nearly no light at all. The paint on his face had worn off, and the childlike figure of the puppet had lost all of its youth: its smile had faded into a sunken frown, its elongated nose seemed wilted and droopy, and its eyes were lackluster, having lost its color and its pride. Yet it seemed to jerk magically alive as I approached it. It had a life of its own: it could perform dance routines, albeit being slightly clumsily has he performed a full twirl and spin. It could talk, but sometimes its voice would splutter into no more than a mechanical, scratchy buzzing noise, as if it had come straight out of a tape recorder or faulty radio. Yet, behind the veil of smiles and cheery, animated giggles, there was a sadness inside him. In the midst of his dance routines, he would flash me a look of desperation, of longing. The remaining tufts of hair on his nearly bald hair had grown grey, his body still covered in dust, his arms were still stiff and rigid, bound by the cobwebs that were strung on him during his years of disuse.

I moved along the rows and rows of broken toys, stacked carelessly on top of each other, all fighting to see the light of day. Most of them sat idly, their intricate parts clogged together, waiting– hoping– to be used or played with one day. Propped up on the back of the room, waiting for me, was a soft, plushy teddy bear. It was life-sized. Its large fluffy arms hung limply by its rounded belly. Its shoulders were slouched forward, with its black, beady eyes hanging loosely off its face. Tufts of grey-brown hair stuck out from its uncombed fur. Its wet, soppy nose still smelt faintly of cookies and mint, remnants of the past that the bear desperately clung on to. The bear was dressed a tight fitting blue button-down shirt, accompanied by khaki pants and tiny yellow wellington boots– clothes that were once selected with love and care and pride, and told of a better time, when bears were still hugged, when puppets were still danced around with, and when toys still received the affection and love they deserved.