Revision Goals: I want to be more descriptive where I need description.

I walked through the secret door that lead into the kitchen in my grandparents house so nobody could see me. There were white counter tops and drawers with orange handles. The wallpaper was a tile pattern of a million colors. My main focus was getting to the oven without having to be reminded to go back to the dining room. I crawled on the floor towards the two shiny, white ovens. The room was filled with the redolence of turkey cooking in the oven. The smell of rosemary tingled my senses. Brussel sprouts and bacon were sizzling in the pan on the stove along with the gravy. I walked over to the other oven and turned on the light. I saw the black bottom cupcakes, pumpkin pie cheesecake, and the apple pie baking. The collection of spices were filling the entire room with a magical aroma. I could easily tell that this was going to be a great Thanksgiving.

After everyone was done with their dinner, stories, and jokes, I cleared the table and sat down. I knew what was happening next. This was the ninth time that my dad and I have celebrated this tradition together. The lights started to dim and I grasped my chair. I saw my grandparents carrying out the black bottom cupcakes. They were chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese chips. When you bit into the cupcake, the chips would melt in your mouth. There were two candles that had a flame dancing on top. One for me and one for my dad. My entire family started to sing happy birthday to my dad and I. I started to swing my feet in the air. We looked at each other and blew out the candles. As we were blowing, I could see the flames dancing. The flame went out, but then it came back. I was surprised. I blew harder. It came back. I blew harder. It came back again. I growled in annoyance. I blew as hard as I could and the flame finally went out. I waited for a few seconds just incase it came back. Thankfully it didn’t. Then everyone cheered and I took a huge bite of my cupcake.

REVISED PIECE!

In my Grandparents house, there was a secret door that lead from the living room to the kitchen. I almost felt like an undercover spy, peering through the kitchen so no one would see me. The kitchen counter was crammed with food and there was still more to be made. There were white counter tops and drawers with orange handles. Aluminium foil spread across all the pots and pans, and reflected across the rainbow wallpaper that covered the kitchen walls. My main focus was getting to the oven without having to be reminded to go back to the dining room. I crawled across the cold brown floor tiles towards the two shiny, white ovens. The room was filled with the heavenly redolence of turkey cooking in the oven. The smell of rosemary tingled my senses, brussel sprouts and bacon were sizzling in the pan on the stove alongside the gravy. I walked over to the other oven and turned on the light. I saw the black bottom cupcakes, pumpkin pie cheesecake, and the apple pie baking. The collection of spices were filling the entire room with a magical aroma. I could easily tell that this was going to be a great Thanksgiving.

I noticed how you revised more of the senses and you described more sound which enhanced your story. I think that the way you revised really makes it feel like you can imagine being there. Before I didn’t know where you were but in you revised paragraphs you told the reader where you were. You also told the reader about how you felt more so they could imagine what you felt like. 4