Seventh Grade

Literature Soup
Readings
2015

Name: ___________________________

Contents
Unit: Literature Soup ................................................................................................................................... 3
The Dreamer .................................................................................................................................................. 4
A Headstrong Boy ...................................................................................................................................... 11
The Glory Field ........................................................................................................................................... 12
The Kite Runner ......................................................................................................................................... 16
Objective Summary Example .................................................................................................................. 17
Study Guide.......18

Important Terms and Concepts .......................................................................................................... 218

Confused? Fix-Up Steps

1. Ignore the unclear part and read on to see whether it gets clearer or the unclear part
turns out to be unimportant (that is, you can still understand what you are reading).
2. Reread the unclear part (more carefully).
3. Reread the sentence(s) before the unclear part.
4. Try to connect the unclear part to something you already know.
5. Get outside help (from peers, the teacher, or resource materials).

Unit: Literature Soup

Purpose:
RI 7.2: Identify a central idea, provide evidence of the central idea, and summarize the
source.
RI 7.6: Compare and contrast how different authors have different purposes and share
different information and how those differences change how information is
viewed.
RI 7.9: Look at different ways authors present information and how those differences
change how information is viewed.
RL 7.2: Identify a theme, provide evidence of the theme, and summarize a story
RL 7.3: Understand the plotline of a narrative and structural elements of poems and
dramatic pieces
RL 7.4: Determine the meaning of words and phrases including figurative and connotative
language; analyze the impact of rhymes and other repetitions of sounds (e.g.
alliteration) on a specific verse or stanza of a poem*
RL 7.5: Determine how the structure of a narrative (literature or poem) contributes to its
meaning*
RL 7.6: Compare and contrast characters point of view within a story
L 7.2: Use grammar rules properly
L 7.4: Use context as a clue to the meaning of a word or phrase*
L 7.6: Use domain-specific words and phrases*
What standards do I need to pay close attention to during this unit?
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What will I do to make sure I learn the standards?
________________________________________________________________________
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How will I know I learned the standards?
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
If I could do this unit over again, what would I do differently?

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*These standards will be tested.

The Dreamer

By: Pam Muoz Ryan & Peter Ss

RAIN
On a continent of many songs, in a country shaped like the arm of a tall guitarrista,
the rain drummed down on the town of Temuco.
Neftal Reyes sat in his bed, propped up by pillows, and stared at the schoolwork in
front of him. His teacher called it simple addition, but it was never simple for him. How he
wished the numbers would disappear! He squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them.
The twos and threes lifted from the page and waved for the others to join them. The
fives and sevens sprang upward, and finally after much prodding, the fours, ones, and sixes
came along. But the nines and zeros would not budge, so the others left them. They held
hands in a long procession of tiny figures, flew across the room, and escaped through the
window crack. Neftal closed the book and smiled.
He certainly could not be expected to finish his homework with only the lazy zeroes
and nines lolling on the page.
He slowly stepped out of bed and to the window, leaning his forehead against the
pane and gazing into the backyard. He knew that he should rest in order to recuperate from
his illness. He knew that when he wasnt resting, he should catch up on his studies. But there
were so many distractions.
Outside, the winter world was gray and sodden. The earth turned to mud, and a
small stream flowed through a hole in the ramshackle fence. At the moment, no one lived
next door. Still, Neftal always imagined a friend on the other side, waiting for him
someone who might enjoy watching flotsam drift downriver, who collected twisted sticks,
like to read, and was not good at mathematics, either.
He heard footsteps. Was it father? He had been away, working on the railroad for a
week, and was due home today. Neftals heart pounded and his round brown eyes grew
large with panic.
The footsteps came closer.

Clump.

Clump.

Clump.

Clump.
Neftal reached up and smoothed his thick black hair. Was it out of place? He held
up his hands and looked at his thin fingers. Were they clean enough?
The idea of having to confront Father made his arms tingle and his skin feel as if it
were shrinking. He took a deep breath and held it.
The footsteps passed his room and continued down the hall.
Nefatl exhaled.
It must have been Mamadre, his stepmother, in her wooden-heeled shoes. He
listened until he was sure that no one was near, then he turned to the window again.
Raindrops strummed across the zinc roof. Water mysteriously trilled above him,
worming its way indoors. Weepy puddles dripped from the ceiling, filling the pots that had
been poised to catch them.

plip plip

plop

bloop, bloop, bloop

oip, oip, oip, oip

plip plip
plip plip

plop
tin,
tin,
tin,
tin,
tin

plop
plip plip

bloop, bloop, bloop

oip, oip, oip

tin,
tin,
tin,
tin,
tin

plip plip
plip plip

plop
As Neftal listened to the piano of wet notes, he looked up at the Andes mountains,
hovering like a white-robed choir. He looked out at the river Cautn, pattering through the
forest. He closed his eyes and wondered wat lay beyond, past the places of Labranza, Boroa,
and Ranquilco, where the sea plucked at the rugged land.
The window opened. A carpet of rain swept in and carried Neftal to the distant
ocean he had only seen in books. There, he was the captain of a ship, its prow slicing
through the blue. Salt water sprayed his cheeks. His clothes fluttered against his body. He
gripped the mast, looking back on his country, Chile.

The screech of a conductors whistle snapped Neftal to attention. He jerked around.

Fathers body filled the doorway.
Neftal shuddered.
Stop that incessant daydreaming! The white tip of Fathers yellow beard quivered
as he clenched and unclenched his narrow jaw. And why are you out of bed?
Neftal averted his eyes.
Do you want to be a skinny weakling forever and amount to nothing?
N-n-n-no, Father, stammered Neftal.
Your mother was the same, scribbling on bits of paper, her mind always in another
world.
Neftal rubbed his temples. He had never known his mother. She had died two
months after he was born. Was Father right? Could daydreaming make you weak? Had it
made his mother so weak that she had died?
Mamadre hurried into the room.
Father pointed at her. You need to watch him more closely. He must stay in bed or
he will never get stronger. As he bounded from the doorway, the floor shook.
Mamadre took Neftals hand, gently helped him into bed, and tucked the blankets
around him. Your mother did not die from her imagination, she whispered. It was a fever.
And look at me. I am small and many say much too thin. I may not appear big and strong on
the outside, but I am perfectly capable on the insidejust like you. She stroked his head. I
know it is hard to spend so many days in bed.
I f-f-feelf-f-fine, said Neftal, reaching up to touch her black hair, which was
pulled into a tight bun at the back of her neck.
Just one more day, said Mamadre. I will read to you to help pass the time.
Within the lull of Mamadres soothing voice, Neftal lost himself in the legends of
swashbucklers and giants. There, his painful shyness stayed in the back of his mind. There,
he could not be called Shinbone because of his thin, sickly body, or chosen last for a street
game by the neighborhood boys.
Between the pages, he forgot that he stuttered when he spoke. He saw himself
healthy and strong like his older brother, Rodolfo; cheerful like his little sister, Laurita; and

confident and intelligent like his uncle Orlando, who owned the local newspaper. While the
pages turned, he even dared to imagine himself with a friend.
After Mamadre finished reading and slipped away, Neftal studied the cracks in the
ceiling. They looked like roads on a map, and he wondered to which country they belonged.
He sighed. It had not mattered one bit what Father had said about daydreaming.
Neftal could not stop.
Every curious detail of his life taunted him. His mind wandered:
To the monster storm raging outside, which started the roof. To the distant rumble
of the dragon volcano, Mount Llaima, which made the floors hiccup. To the makeshift walls
of his timid house, trembling and cowering from the roar of passing trains. To the
haphazard design of the room with incomplete stairs, which might have led to a castle on
another floor, but had long been deserted in the middle of construction.

The next day, Mamadre was far more watchful, and Neftal could not escape from
his bed. Instead, he begged Laurita to be his ambassador at the window.
T-t-t-tell me all that you can s-see. Please. Porfa?
Laurita nodded. She was only four and too short to see out. She pushed a chair to
the window and climbed onto the seat. Then she leaned forward. Her round black eyes,
heavy lashes, and sleek hair made her look like a little bird perched at the sill. I see
rainbumpy skywet leavesone boot missing the othermuddy puddlesun perro
callejero
T-t-tell me about the stray dog, said Neftal. What color is it?
It is so wet, I cannot say. Maybe brown. Maybe black, said Laurita.
T-t-tell me about the boot that is m-m-missing the other.

It has no shoestrings. It looks lonely.

Tomorrow, when I am allowed up, I will rescue it and add it to my c-c-collections.
But you already have so many rocks and sticks and nests. And the boot will be so
dirty, said Laurita. And you do not know where it has been. Or who has worn it.
That is true, said Neftal. B-b-but I will clean it. Maybe it belonged to a
stonemason and by owning it, I will receive his strength. Or maybe it belonged to a b-bbaker, and once I run my hands over the leather, I will know how to make b-bread.
Laurita giggled. You are silly, Neftal.
Just then, Mamadre appeared in the doorway. Laurita, Valeria is here to play with
you. And, Neftal, you need a nap or you will not be able to go back to school tomorrow.
She came into the room, kissed his forehead, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. You
look fine on the outside, my son. How do you feel on the inside?
Not tired. P-p-please, Mamadre, may I read for a while?
That is what I deserve for teaching you before you even started school. Mamadre
nodded and smiled as she left the room. One story.
Neftal grabbed a book from the bedside table. Even though he did not know all of
the words, he read the ones he knew. He loved the rhythm of certain words, and when he
came to one of his favorites, he read it over and over again: locomotive, locomotive, locomotive. In
his mind, it did not get stuck. He heard the word as if he had said it out loudperfectly.
Neftal climbed out of bed, retrieved a pencil and paper, and copied the word.

LOCOMOTIVE

He folded the paper into a small square and put it in a dresser drawer already
crammed with other words hed written on tiny, doubled-over pieces of paper. Then he
crawled into bed.
Fathers question from yesterday found its way into his thoughts. Do you want to be a
skinny weakling forever and amount to nothing?
The words in the drawer shuffled. The drawer opened. The small pieces of paper
floated into the room and arranged and rearranged themselves into curious patterns above
his head.

CHOCOLATE

OREGANO
IGUANA

TERRIBLE

LOCOMOTIVE

Neftal sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around the room. The words were no longer
there. He slid from the bed, tiptoed to the drawer, and opened it.
All of the words were sleeping.

10

and maple leaves, and all the hearts that

ever loved her.
Ill draw her a wedding, an early morning
garden party,
swathed in candy-wrappers decked with
winter scenes.

A Headstrong Boy
A Monologue By: Gu Cheng
Young Man: I guess my mother spoiled
me
Im a headstrong boy. I want every instant
to be lovely as crayons.

Im a headstrong boy. I want to paint out

every sorrow,
to cover the world with colored windows,
let all the eyes accustomed to darkness
be accustomed to light. I want to draw
wind,
mountains, each one bigger than the last.
I want to draw the dream of the East,
a fathomless sea, a joyful voice.

Id like to drawon chaste white paper

a clumsy freedom, eyes that never wept,
a piece of sky, a feather, a leaf,
a pale green evening, and an apple.
Id like to draw dawn, the smile dew sees,
the earliest, tenderest lovean imaginary
love
whos never seen a mournful cloud,
whose eyes the color of sky will gaze at
me
forever, and never turn away.
Id like to draw distance, a bright horizon,
carefree, rippling rivers, hills sheathed in
green furze.
I want the lovers to stand together in
silence,
I want each breathless moment to beget a
flower.

Finally, Id like to draw myself in one

corner
a panda, huddled in a dark Victorian
forest,
hunkering in the quietest branches,
homeless, lost,
not even a heart left behind me, far away,
only teeming dreams of berries
and great, wide eyes.
This pinings pointless.
I havent any crayons,
any breathless moments.
All I have are fingers and pain.

I want to draw a future Ive never seen

nor ever canthough Im sure shell be
beautiful.
Ill draw her an autumn coat the color of
candle flame,

I think Ill tear the paper to bits

and let them drift away,
hunting for butterflies.

11

The Glory Field

By: Walter Dean Myers

JULY 1753,
OFF THE COAST
OF SIERRA LEONE,
WEST AFRICA
Eleven-year-old Muhammad Bilal flinched. The sore on his ankle rubbed against the
iron shackle that held him, sending shivers of pain up his thin leg. He pushed his foot closer
to the wooden board to which he was fastened and tried to shift his body. The man chained
next to him mad a noise, it sounded almost like a hoarse bark, and Muhammad knew the
mans throat must have pained from lack of water. He looked at the small square of light
slanting through the grating a few feet from him. Particles of dust floated in the heavy air, as
if suspended in the stifling heat that rose from the bowels of the ship, and from the dark
creatures within its hold. In the days when he had first been brought on the ship, a small
knot of men had forced their way beneath the hatch opening so that they could suck in the
occasional breeze. He remembered seeing how their black faces strained upward toward the
deck of the rolling ship. He wondered if they were warriors, or traders, or like him, the sons
of farmers. Their faces, like ebony masks edged in gold, were lit by the sun. Their arms, their
bodies, their dreams, lay in the darkness below.
The ship rocked gently in its mooring for eighteen days, and for eighteen days more
and more men and young boys were dragged down into the dark hold. There was no room
to move, to stretch aching muscles, even to lift a sore hip or elbow from the hard wood of
the ship. On the nineteenth day the ship moved. First it lurched, then it rolled, the boards
creaking and groaning like the bellowing of some dying beast. By the twenty-third day the
first man on board the ship had died.
Muhammads thoughts kept going back to the day he was captured. They had been
warned about the men without color who were taking people away. But it was the people
form beyond the mountain who had attacked his village. He thought they spoke a Mande
language, but it was a different accent than he knew. Others said that though they were black,
they were dead men who had sold their souls.
Muhammad remembered having his arms wrenched behind him and tied and then
being put into a line with other boys his age. A rope was put around his neck and tied to a
long poll. His friend Abdul was with him, and Kwesi. He did not cry out or weep. If he was
to die, it would be like a warrior, he told himself. He did not cry out, but his heart betrayed
him, pounding in his chest when he was put into the pens and later he was put into one of
the small boats and taken out to the ship. He had heard of people who had sacrificed their
prisoners, using the blood to appease their gods.
He prayed.
The pale men on the ships were frightful, most of them thin and poorly built. Several
of them looked sick. Kaiman, the son of a healer from Muhammads village, refused to go
into the hole they pushed him toward. With his arms still tied behind his back, the proud
youth was beaten on the legs and shoulders with clubs until, bruised and bloody, he crawled
into the hold. The seamen pointed their boomsticks toward the sky and made them boom.
One by one the captives were pushed below deck where others were waiting to chain them

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down. When it came his turn, Muhammad felt the terror swell in his chest and fill his throat.
It was all he could do not scream out as he was pushed roughly against another man.
Men tore at their bindings, ripping the skin from their wrists as they pulled
themselves toward the grating.
He had never been trapped like this before; never had anything hold him captive. He
wondered about those who had already died, wondered if the long march to the ships had
killed them, or the beatings, or if it had been something from within. As he wondered, the
sea pounded against the rolling ship, and the boards of the ship groaned in complaint. He
closed his eyes and looked into himself and tried to speak, but no sound came. He gathered
what moisture he could from his parched throat, licked his lips, and whispered a vow to
himself that he would live.
Sometimes the older men would cry out in their sleep as they tried to ease the sores
that came from lying in one position too long. But there was no place to turn, no room to
move in their prison.
There wee men from many different peoples chained together. Those who, like
himself, were followers of Islam often prayed. Some talked about what might become of
them. Most of them thought they would be killed, and a foolish boy even thought he would
be eaten by the white men. He did not want to think of what would happen to him.
The second man and the third died on the same day.
Sometimes, if he held his knees high, the shackles would not rub against the raw
spots on his ankles. And for this he thanked Allah.
They were fed once a day. And given water twice a day, in the morning and just
before sunset. A small, wide man with few teeth came down and gave each a drink from a
cup he dipped into a bucket. Some men tried to bite him, and he would kick them and not
give them water.
He thought of Saran, his mother, and of Odebe, his father. He did not know if they
were alive or dead, if the screams he heard on that dark night had come from their sweet lips.
At first they filled his mind each day. Now he saw their faces, their eyes, the hands that
would say so much to him with a though. He thought of his mother thinking of him,
wondering where he was, and his eyes filled with tears.
In the ships hold, he heard men from near his home and from far away. And, when
he was taken on deck to jump around as he was told, he saw that there were women on the
ship as well. The few moments each day on deck were a small joy that made the darkness of
the hold even worse. From the deck of the ship there was nothing to be seen but water.
Muhammad looked about, hoping to glimpse a tree or a mountain, or even some small piece
of earth in the distance. But there were only clouds, drifting white beasts in the cold and
distant sky, and the endless sea. He remembered stories of Abu Bakir, the king who had
sailed from Mali, who had challenged the sea and was never heard from again. But if the
sights from the deck were confusing, the hold was truly terrifying.
For it was Death itself that crowded into the hold with them. Death that nestled in
the darkness next to them, his stench choking and crushing them, that mocked them, that
gnawed at their feet so they could not sleep. And, in the darkness, that took them quietly
away.
By the end of the first month all that filled Muhammads mind was the effort to
breathe. He fought against death from breath to breath, trying always to fill his lungs for the
next minute of life, trying to ease the pain of the shackles around his legs, trying to think
forward to an ending of his torment, trying to think of being free again.

13

MARCH 1864
LIVE OAKS PLANTATION,
CURRY ISLAND,
SOUTH CAROLINA
They were up early. The sun had not yet burned the dew off the well-kept lawns of
Live Oaks, and Lizzys bare feet and ankles were wet as she headed toward the fields. Moses
led them into the fields as usual, with Mister Joe Haynes, the overseer, a few feet behind hi
on his horse. Usually, when they went into the field in the mornings, Moses or somebody
would have started a song, something to get them going. But this morning was different. It
was the first time that they had been taken into the field on a Sunday in over a year. But it
wasnt the crops that were on their minds, or on Mister Joe Hayness mind, either.
Mister Joe Haynes took them around the field, spitting on the ground where he
wanted them to work. He had Moses and the other men in the middle of the field and the
women and the children along the edges. Mister Joy Haynes sat under an oak, his dark hat
slouched over his eyes, his rifle across his lap, watching them. Watching Moses in particular.
Lizy didnt care about the work, or even about being in the field on a Sabbath day.
Her mind was with Joshua and Lem. When she could, she looked over to where Moses bent
over the crop, weeding, tending to the banks of sweet potatoes that going to be for the use
of old man Lewis and his family. Moses looked for all the world as if he didnt have a care in
the world. But everybody knew that it was his song, Lem, and his brother, Joshua, who had
run off. They had seen the riders gather the night before, tall men used to horses, used to
hunting runaway Negroes.
The day went on forever. The sun stayed high. On the far edge of the field
blackbirds sat on the top rail of the fence in small groups as if they, too, were waiting. It was
hard for Lizzy to keep her head down. It was if the road leading down toward the creek were
drawing her eyes. Once in a while she looked back toward the twin rows of live oaks that
formed a boulevard over the brick path leading to the front of the big house. She didnt
think that if Joshua and Lem were caught they would bring them back that way. Old Master
Lewis didnt allow any poor whites coming down the big road; they had to come around the
back road the same as the black folks did. And thats who had come to Live Oaks, the poor
white folks who made up the patrollers. There werent but a few of them left; the rest had
gone off to fight in the war.
Joshua was a full-grown man and strapping, too. He was married to Neela, and they
were a fine-looing couple. Neela was from the Foster place, a mile and a half down the road.
She was pretty, black as a berry, and with the prettiest smile that Lizzy had ever seen. Joshua
had met her at a corn-shucking at the Foster place and had gone sweet on her. She had gone
sweet on him too, and after a year he had asked Old Master Lewis if he could marry her.
Master Lewis went over to the Foster place and asked Mister Foster, who had said yes if they
could split up the children.
Old Master Lewis didnt want to do that and knew that Joshua wouldnt want to,
either. The thing was that Mister Foster wanted to sell Neela and wanted a good piece of
money for her. Thats what Master Lewis told Joshua. So they never got married in the big
house the way some of the people on Live Oaks did. Instead they waiting until Neela could
come over to Live Oaks one night, and she and Joshua went ot the ground where
Muhammad had been buried, and where they named all the newborn children so that the
young could find direction from the elders; and there they stood and offered prayer and

14

confessed that they loved one another and would from that day on. It had been a cold, rainy
night in April when they stood holding hands and turning their faces toward the stars, but a
warm breeze came up and touched them. It touched the broad shoulders of Joshua and
dried Neelas nervous tears, and Saran had said that it was a blessing sent by Muhammad.
The ground seemed harder, seemed not to want to turn as they moved down the
long rows. Suddenly the still of the warm air was broken by a single, plaintive note. It went
higher, breaking into a different pitch, and then went even higher. Mister Joe Haynes jumped
up and grabbed his rifle.
The note came down, picking up substance, broadening, stretching from person to
person. A hoe hit the ground, and again, and then another hoe caught its rhythm.
Sooner in the morning when I rise The song filled the field, calling to no one and
everyone at the same time.
And there was an answer.
...The young lambs must find the way.
With crosses and trials on every side
The young lambs must find the way.
Across the field there were hoofbeats, and Lizzy looked up and saw Mister Joe
Haynes riding across the edge of the field. She looked to see where he was going, and there,
silhouetted against the sky, were some riders. There were four of them, and from where she
stood Lizzy could see that they had somebody tied behind one of the horses. He was
running along after them, falling down, being dragged for a while, and trying to get up the
best he could. The dark figure, even a half a mile away, was too small to be Joshua. The song
had been right. It was Lem.

15

The Kite Runner

By: Khaled Hosseini
A friend is a friend is a friend.
When I was young, I didnt see it.
I saw the slingshot and the pomegranate tree.
I saw a boy who had to be less.
Less than worthy, less than perfect, less than me.
I saw a servant. And I ruined him.
But now that Ive gathered a few more years,
Things are different. I look back and note:
The kite soared high above my perspective.
I see a boy who is so much less.
A boy who is scared, who is weak.
An educated idiot. And I hate him.
Sohrab, like his father before him, will pull me back up.
He will better me as a man, subconsciously.
He lost his father, the poor boy.
For he should have known Hassan.
Maybe I will better him.
Maybe he can bring redemption.
A bright young boy. And I cling to him.
A friend is a friend is a friend.
He changed me, and

16

Objective Summary Example

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROST
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
On a dark winter evening, the narrator stops his sleigh to watch the snow falling in the
woods. At first he worries that the owner of the property will be upset by his presence, but
then he remembers that the owner lives in town, and he is free to enjoy the beauty of the
falling snow. The sleigh horse is confused by his masters behavior, stopping far away from
any farmhouse, and shakes his harness bells in impatience. After a few more moments, the
narrator reluctantly continues on his way.
Notice on the first sentence captures the essence of the beginning of the poem. The
next sentence does two things. It gives idea of the middle of the poem, but also
provides the reason for why the man has stopped which would be the main idea of
the poem. The summary ends with the man continuing on his way just like the poem.
A summary does not need to match the description of the work it is summarizing, it
only needs to give the reader a basic understand of what happened. Notice this
summary moves the reader through those events with transition words like At first
and After. Another important part of this summary is the lack of personal opinion.
There is no commentary on the quality of the poem or questions.

17

Literature Soup Study Guide

7th Grade ELA

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RL 7.2: Identify a theme, provide evidence of the theme, and summarize a story
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Directions: Choose a text from the Literature Soup reading packet and consider the
following questions.
1. What is the main idea/theme of the text?
2. What evidence from the text demonstrates the theme? Please quote and correctly cite
examples below.

18

3. Using the theme and evidence above, write an objective summary. After completing the
summary, put a check in the box for the criteria that is most similar to your
summary. Consider how and where revisions can take place.
Summary:

Fix-Up Additions and Changes:

19

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RL 7.3: Understand the plotline of a narrative and structural elements of poems and
dramatic pieces
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------4. What should be included in the following elements of a plot line?
a)

Exposition:

b)

Rising Action/Complications:

c)

Climax:

d)

Falling Action:

e)

Resolution:

5. Identify the elements of plot line in Khaled Hosseinis Kite Runner.

a)

Exposition:

b)

Rising Action/Complications:

c)

Climax:

d)

Falling Action:

e)

Resolution:

20

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RL 7.4: Determine the meaning of words and phrases including figurative and connotative
language; analyze the impact of rhymes and other repetitions of sounds (e.g.
alliteration) on a specific verse or stanza of a poem*
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------L 7.6: Use domain-specific words and phrases*
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6. Define metaphor and provide an example.

7. Define simile and provide an example.

8. Define alliteration and provide an example.

9. Define rhyme scheme and provide an example.

10. Define rhythm and explain what it does for a poem.

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----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RL 7.5: Determine how the structure of a narrative (literature or poem) contributes to its
meaning*
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------11. What is the theme(s) of Headstrong Boy by Gu Cheng (11)?
12. Explain how the title of the poem adds to the poems meaning.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------RL 7.6: Compare and contrast characters point of view within a story
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------13. From whose point of view is Khaled Hosseinis Kite Runner (16)?
14. Consider the other two possible points of view in the poem. Choose one and explain
what one of the other characters in the poem feels about the situation. (Put yourself in
their shoes.)

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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------L 7.2: Use grammar rules properly

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------15. Explain how to use a semi-colon in a sentence.
16. Provide an example of a sentence with a semi-colon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------L 7.4: Use context as a clue to the meaning of a word or phrase*

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------17. In the following sentence, what does the word repugnant mean?
The repugnant smell from the pizza place down the street, made me want to puke.

18. In the following sentence, what does the word essentially mean?
I go to great lengths to get my Taco Bell, but essentially any burrito will do.

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Important Terms and Concepts

TERM

ATTITIBUTES

EXAMPLE

When a person, place,

thing, or thing or idea
of historical, cultural,
literary, or political
significance is implied.

This place is
like a Garden of
Eden
-referencing a
biblical location

These comments that

assume the reader has
background
knowledge and are
not explained.

Im going to
McGyver the
door
-referencing a
TV show about
a man who fixed
items using what
he had in his
pocket.

Antonym

A word which holds

the opposite meaning
of another word.

Good
antonym is
Bad because
their meaning is
opposite

Good and
Great are not
antonyms as they
have similar
definition

Comma

A punctuation mark
used to:

I was studying
for English, and
she was studying
for math.

I ate and talked at

the same time.

Allusion

-go in a compound
sentence before the
coordinating
conjunction
-mark where clauses
start and end.
-show the end of
transitions or
dependent clauses.

When I was
studying for
English, I ate
pizza.
For example, I
read three books
in one week.

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NONEXAMPLE
I saw Avengers
2.
-this is a statement

PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

TERM

ATTITIBUTES

EXAMPLE

NONEXAMPLE
She is a beauty,
and I am a beast.

Complex
Sentence

A sentence containing
a dependent and
independent clause.

As I stepped
into the light, I
saw her face.

Compound
Sentence

Two independent
clauses connected by a
coordinating
conjunction
(FANBOYS)

When she wasnt

looking, I drank in
her visage.

CompoundComplex
Sentence

Contains the qualities

of a compound
sentence with a
dependent clause
attached.

The snow
floated down
like
marshmallows,
and I hungrily
ate them up.
Because the road
was blocked, we
had to sit in our
car, but it turned
out okay.

Connotation

When a word means

something other than
its dictionary
definition

Wall Street
can refer to
wealth and
power.

Wall Street is an
actual street in
New York City.

This meaning often

carries cultural,
emotional, positive,
and/or negative
meanings.

I read books.

Home is a place
a person lives.
Home can
refer to family,
comfort, and
security.

Coordinating
Conjunctions
(FANBOYS)

A word which
connects ideas,
phrases, clauses, and
sentences.
(For, And, Nor, But,
Or, Yet, So)

I sat at my desk
thinking, but I
couldnt think of
anything.

An empty mind
isnt always a bad
thing.

Denotation

When a word
meaning matches the
dictionary meaning.

Dove: a type of
pigeon, a wild
and
domesticated
bird having a
heavy body and
short legs.

Dove can refer to

something
peaceful or gentle.

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PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

TERM
Dependent
Clause

ATTITIBUTES

EXAMPLE

It has a subject and

verb, but is an
incomplete thought.

Before we end
this unit.

NONEXAMPLE
We will end this
unit tomorrow.

Usually they begin

with a subordinating
conjunction.
Explicit
Evidence

An idea which is
directly stated and
taken from another
text to help prove a
thesis.

I love this
song.

Uh, this song.

-implies a dislike
for the song, but is
not directly stated.

I like this song.

Even explicit evidence

must be explained in a
paper so the reader
can make the
connection to the
thesis.

Heading

An organizational tool
that sums up what a
section is about.

Hyperbole

A fancy name for

when we make
statements that are
exaggerated.

I havent seen
you in ages.

It has a subject, verb,

and is complete
thought.

I am excited
about the
weekend.

Independent
Clause

Your backpack
weighs a ton.

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If it is Friday.

PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

TERM
Inferred
Evidence

ATTITIBUTES

EXAMPLE

An idea which is
indirectly stated and
taken from another
text to help prove a
thesis.

The lights in
the house are
off.
-it can be
accurately
guessed that no
one is home.

Inferred Evidence
needs to be clearly
explained so a reader
can understand what
you understand from
the quote and so the
reader can make the
connection to the
thesis.

NONEXAMPLE
The sign said: no
one is home.
-directly states the
idea. No guessing
is needed.

Informational
Text

A text which conveys

information in a
structured manner.

Directions to
building a
cabinet

The Adventures of
Huckleberry Finn

Metaphor

A comparison that
implies two things
share a common
characteristic.

My brother was
boiling mad
-comparing that
both were hot,
which uses the
connotation that
to be hot is to be
angry.

Our soldiers are as

brave as lions.

They do not use like

or as.

Objective
Summary

An outline of a story
which includes the
beginning, middle,
and end, the storys
main idea, but does
not

See example
within this
packet.

27

PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

TERM

ATTITIBUTES

EXAMPLE

Personification

Where a non-human
(animal, thing, or idea)
are given human
characteristics.

Look at my car.
She is a beauty,
isnt it?
-a car cant
actually be
beautiful it is
characteristic of
humans which is
being given to a
thing.

Simile

A direct comparison
between two things.

He is as cunning
as a fox.
-A direct
comparison
between a foxes
intelligence
(commonly
considered
smart), and
anothers
intelligence.

The assignment
was a breeze.

I love English.

I love English, but

I also really like
math.

They do use like or as.

Simple Sentence

A sentence with only

independent clause.

Subheading

An organizational tool
that is used to further
divide parts of a paper
after a header is used.

28

NONEXAMPLE
That car is well
made.

PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

TERM

ATTITIBUTES

EXAMPLE

Subordinating
Conjunctions
(AAAWUBBIS)

A conjunction used to
turn an independent
clause into a
dependent clause so it
can be put with
another independent
clause.

If I go with you
to the mall, I
want to drive.
-Without If this
sentence would
need to divided
into two
sentences or
become a run-on
sentence.

AAAWWUBBIS (As,
Although, After,
While, When, Unless,
Because, Before, If,
Since)

NONEXAMPLE
I go with you to
the mall. I want to
drive.

Synonym

A word with the same

or similar meaning as
another word.

Happy and
Joyful

Fast is not equal

to Slow

Thesis

A statement of belief
without using I and
outlining how that
statement will be
proven.

High school
graduates should
be required to
take a year off to
pursue
community
service projects
before entering
college in order
to increase their
maturity and
global
awareness.

I believe the sky is

blue because it is
very sad.

Theme

The main idea of text,

particularly a narrative
piece of writing.
A real or imagined
story.

Narrative Text

29

PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

NEW TERMS

ATTITIBUTES

Authors Purpose

Purposes ca n
include: to inform or
teach, entertain
persuade or convince
When the text doesnt
explicitly give the
meaning of an event
or the story, and
instead the meaning
must be inferred.
The way which a
character, narrator, or
author sees the world.

Underlying
(implied)
Meaning

Point of View

EXAMPLE

NONEXAMPLE

Point of View:
First Person

This view is limited

to only what a
particular character,
narrator, or author
can see.

I felt like I was

drowning in a
sea of paper
work.

She felt like she

was drowning in a
sea of paper
work.

Point of View:
Second Person

This view is a
command language or
for informal writing.

Take out the

trash.

I will take out the

trash.

Mr. Chalk
likes to write on
the board.

I like to write on
the board.

Point of View:
Third person

*sometimes the YOU

used in second person
is understood and no
directly stated.
This point of view can
be limited like first
person, but can also
be omnipresent. It
speaks of everyone
using he, she, it or
their proper name or
title.

PERSONAL
EXAMPLE

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