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How to write a composition describing the details of the characters?
The weathering of the years stripped her of her original flowery face; Too much effort, although the children have been well fed and clothed, left only a displaced life. She sat on a small wooden chair in front of the door with a bowl of gruel in her hand.
The old life always goes on like this every day. She thought about it, brushed the pale hair from her forehead with her hand, and looked at the bowl of porridge that could not be thinner.
Then, a few drops of muddy old tears slipped down the gully to her cheek, but she quickly wiped them off with her cuffs. After simply filling her stomach, she carried a cloth bag on her shoulder and a badly rusted hook in her hand, hunched over, slammed the door with difficulty and staggered down the three stone steps.
Her goal is very simple, that is, to walk into the trash cans of various colors in front of other people's houses, and then rummage hard until some waste products that can be exchanged for money are dug up, put into cloth bags, and then carry them on her back, lean against iron hooks, and continue to walk to the next trash can. She is stubborn. Every time, she won't go back until the package is full.
Sometimes, she will meet her son inadvertently, but she always avoids it. There is really no way, she can only touch it abruptly. Then her son's impatient eyes, she can only bear silently, and sometimes wipe tears. She never blames anyone except her for why he left so early and left her alone.
2. Composition describing the details of the characters 1. Detail description: I was infatuated with watermelon when I was a child, but now I have grown up, and sometimes I really miss that cold feeling.
Street stalls or melon shadows on the screen come into view, and the moment when I ate melons in my childhood reappears in front of my eyes: in summer, the brilliance of the rest of the day sinks into a corner of the sky, and the summer heat gradually disappears. Under the blowing of the evening breeze, people's spirit is particularly comfortable.
At this time, the fragrance of watermelon filled the streets, sometimes thick and sometimes light, as if nothing had happened. I (about five or six years old) put my arms around my knees and squatted on a small bench like a cat catching a mouse. My small black eyes glanced at the watermelon spinning up and down in the water.
Across the water, the sweat on my face has already dried up, and "Qianchuan" hangs like a waterfall. Mosquitoes "swim around" in their ears and don't care.
Under a bright smiling face, there is an expectant heart waiting-My Sweetie in a melon seed shell. Until the watermelon was cut into pieces: I saw watermelon seeds embedded in red melon meat like black pearls; The melon meat is a little cold; Melon juice flows down the mirror-like melon surface, one drop, two drops; The texture on the surface of melon is like the fine lines on the surface of painted porcelain ... The happiest moment is that the iced watermelon is held in your hand, and it seems that there is a cold current floating back and forth all over your body.
2. The fragrant mud flies yellow, the northwest wind whistles, and the residual snow rolls on the road. Although it is early spring, the weather is still very cold.
She, leaning against a poplar tree at the school gate, was as motionless as snow sculpture. The sudden ringing of the bell.
Her dim eyes sparkled with longing. A group of children, singing, walked out of the school gate without her son; Another group of children talked and laughed and set foot on the road without their son ... The figure was sparse, scattered and gone.
The creaking iron gate locked the silent campus. She was dizzy and could hardly stand up. She stumbled over and held her hands tightly on the iron fence.
"For what?" An old man in a message came out with a democratic face. "bright! My little light! " Like breathing, like crying.
"School is over." "Know the way ..." She murmured in a low voice with glassy eyes, lowered her head feebly, slowly released her hand, and took out a candy wrapped tightly with body temperature from the pocket of a long-breasted cotton-padded jacket: "Uncle, please ... give it to the child."
"What's your name?" "Wang Xiaoliang." "What grade and class?" "Today, just after my eighth birthday."
"I asked what grade and class." The old man is getting impatient.
"Oh ... maybe ..." She shook her head again. The old man looked at the neurotic woman strangely. "Who the hell are you?" What he answered was the tears in his eyes and the back that hobbled away.
The old man sighed in confusion and seemed to understand something. In the afternoon, this bag of candy finally reached Wang Xiaoliang in Class Two, Grade Two.
The child was very surprised. I haven't tasted this favorite toffee for a long time. His little hand rubbed his clothes back and forth, thought about it, and respectfully sent one to each child, two to his good friends and five to his teacher.
"Eat!" He shouted and jumped happily, even throwing off the prostitute with his mouth open. The students shared the joy with him in the laughter of hip-hop. Only the teacher quietly turned around ... After school, Xiao Liang was still immersed in joy and skipped home.
Suddenly, he stopped and felt the candy left in his pocket, and a sense of fear came upon him. He seemed to see it again: now mother raised her slender eyebrows and whispered something in her father's ear. Dad grabbed a stick and came up to him angrily.
He looked blankly, not knowing what to do. He patted his pocket hard, but it was bulging at first sight.
He lowered his head, sucked his fingers, thought for a long time, and looked around. He quickly buried the sugar in the snowdrift by the side of the road and specially inserted a small stick. Xiao Liang slept soundly and sweetly that night.
He dreamed that his old mother came back with a smile, and now her mother is hanging her head and leaving. I'm so happy. Next day, Xiao got up early.
As usual, he emptied and rinsed the bedpans of the whole family first, then washed rice, added water, poked fire, sat in the pan, and then slipped out with a cold steamed bread on his back. He wants to digest his candy quickly.
I don't want to. Overnight, the ground temperature rose, the ice and snow melted, syrup and snow water mixed together and penetrated into the earth. On the wet ground, there are some crumpled candy paper and small sticks as marks.
Xiao Liang blinked and couldn't help rolling down tears. He squatted on the ground sadly and looked blankly.
After a while, I couldn't help reaching out my chapped little finger, picking up some dirt and putting it on the tip of my tongue-he smiled again: that dirt, My Sweetie's. Summarize several common detail descriptions: (1) portrait detail description, that is, portrait detail description.
For example, in Daddy's Caregiver, the portrait of the patient is a detail. It is this detail that drives the development of the plot.
(2) Description of language details, that is, a detailed description of the typical language of characters. For example, in "Deer Fetus Hitting Kansai Town", after Lu Da killed Kansai Town, he faked his death. This is a language detail, which shows Lu Da's bold and refined character, courage and wit.
(3) action detail description, that is, a thorough and detailed description of the typical actions of the characters. For example, in the passage about Lu Da borrowing money to help Jin Lao's father and daughter in the boxing town of Lu Tiha, the verbs used vividly show the different personality characteristics of the three men.
(4) the detailed description of psychological activities, that is, the detailed description of the psychological activities of the characters. For example, in the article "Daddy's Caregiver", the description of young Sisillo's psychological activities after seeing "Daddy" seriously ill can well show the excellent quality of caring for his parents.
(5) Detailed description of expression changes, that is, a detailed description of the process of expression changes of characters. In the article Seven Matches, the description of the expression change after the unknown soldier handed the match to Lu Jinyong is a detail worth savoring.
(6) Description of clothing details, that is, detailed description of characters' clothing. It is necessary to see the professional characteristics of this person through the description of clothing, and it is also possible to see the personality characteristics other than professional characteristics. This is a good description of clothing details.
(7) a detailed description of things, that is, a detailed description of the development and change process of things. For example, in.
Speaking of winter, I suddenly think of tofu. It's a "small ocean pot" (aluminum pot) for cooking tofu. It's hot. The water is rolling, just like
Many fish eyes and small pieces of tofu are kept inside, tender and smooth, like a white fox coat that is worn backwards. Pot in the "foreign stove"
(kerosene doesn't blow the stove), the stove is blackened, which shows the whiteness of tofu. It's night now, and the house is very old, although
The "foreign light" is on, but it is still dark. Sitting around the table are my father and our three brothers. The foreign stove is too high, dad.
Kiss often stands up, slightly upturned face, bright eyes, from the dense heat into chopsticks, pick up tofu, one by one.
Put it in our soy sauce dish. Sometimes we do it ourselves, but the stove is too high, and we always enjoy it. this
No eating, just playing. Father said it was cold at night, so everyone would be warmer after eating. We all like this kind of white water tofu; es1000a
The table looked at the pot eagerly, waiting for the hot air, waiting for the tofu that fell from his father's chopsticks in the hot air.
It is winter again. I remember it was on the night of November 16th of the lunar calendar. Mr. S and Mr. P and I are sitting by the West Lake. Mr. S has just arrived in Hangzhou.
In the teaching, it was written in advance: "We will visit the West Lake, whether in winter." The moonlight that night was really good, and now I think it's still like a photo.
My treat. It turned out that the night before was the "first of the month"; Maybe the moon in November is really special. It's past nine, on the lake.
It seems that we are the only rowing boat. The wind is a little strong, and the moonlight sheds soft water waves; Just then, the line reflected light, like new silver.
Son. There are only faint shadows left on the mountains on the lake. Occasionally there are one or two lights under the mountain. S Jun Kouzhan wrote two poems: "Count the stars, count the lights."
Recognize the fishing village and understate the traces in the distance. "We don't talk much, just paddling. I gradually fell asleep. P jun
"Hello", I just raised my eyelids and saw him smiling. The boatman asked him if he wanted to go to Jingsi Temple. Today is Amitabha's birthday, so
The edge is quite lively. When I arrived at the temple, the temple was brightly lit and full of the voice of Buddha chanting, as if waking up a dream. It's already ten o'clock.
That was many years ago, and Mr. S wrote frequently. Mr. p heard that it was changed several times. The year before last, he collected special tax in a special tax bureau.
I haven't heard from you since.
After a winter in Taizhou, there are four people in my family. Taizhou is a mountain city, which can be said to be in a mountain valley. Only one, two.
The long street in the village. On other roads, almost no one can be seen during the day; It is dark at night. Occasionally, a little light shines on people's windows.
Walking with torches; But that's very few. We live at the foot of the mountain. There is wind and sky in the pine forest on the mountain.
The shadows of the last two birds. I went in late summer and left in early spring, but it seems that I have been living in winter; But even in winter,
It is not cold. We live upstairs, and the study faces the road; You can clearly hear someone talking on the road. But because of walking
There are too few people, and sometimes there is sound. It sounds like the wind in the distance, but it's actually outside the window. We are outside.
Passers-by often just sit at home except going to school. My wife is used to that kind of loneliness, too, and only stays with our father. Although outside
It is always winter, but it is always spring at home. Once I went to the street, and when I came back, the wide windows in the kitchen downstairs were open side by side.
Next to them are their mother and son; Three faces smiled at me with innocent smiles. It seems that Taizhou is empty, only the four of us;
The sky is empty, and there are only four of us. It was the tenth year of the Republic of China, and my wife had just come out from home and was at home. Now she's dead. Let's go
Four years later, I still remember the shadow of her smile.
No matter how cold, windy and snowy it is, it always warms my heart when I think about it.
Zhu Ziqing Winter
On that day, my heart was shocked by the rain outside the window. I looked at the gloomy sky in the faint rain and fog.
A drop of rain turns biological dust into wisps of light smoke, which blend and flow in the hazy drizzle. In the faint smoke, the most sincere and flawless touch buried in the bottom of my heart emerges like a movie.
It was a gloomy rainy day, and all the pedestrians in the street hurried away. The willows on the roadside are listlessly floating with sparse willow leaves, and their heads are low, which is insignificant in the fierce rain.
I stood under the eaves to shelter from the rain and stared at the gray sky quietly. Suddenly, a beggar in rags caught my eye.
He was wearing patched rags, and his unkempt hair was soaked by the rain. Dark eyes lined with wrinkled and worn-out faces, like a desolate Gobi, lifeless.
Her bare feet were black and blue, and she was limping on the cold road. Just like a thin and helpless bird, struggling to support its wings in the wind, it can't compete with Han Wei.
He suddenly stopped and looked down-it was a shriveled old jar, creaking in the wind, quietly sticking to the smooth and shiny road, covered with mud. He was dazed, paused, gradually bent his thin back, stretched out his withered hand like a branch, and picked it up carefully.
He pulled the can tightly in his hand, almost close to his chest, and then walked forward seriously step by step. He saw the dustbin with a look of relief in his eyes, put it in the dustbin gently and solemnly, and then dragged his thin body with satisfaction and gradually disappeared into the hazy rain curtain.
The air seemed to solidify, and my mind was shocked instantly. Looking at that incomparably tall body, that incomparably pure mind.
Tears gradually filled my eyes, full of eternal admiration and emotion. That day, my heart was shocked.
My life has also been impacted. He, a beggar in the rain, will always be a bright light in my heart. His heart is more like the rising sun that shines forever, rising bit by bit to illuminate my heart.
Agree with 353| Comment (9).
5. The composition describing the details of the characters is terrible.
I don't know when dad became more and more unsanitary, especially his feet. It's really stinking and daunting!
That night, I was doing my homework, and my father was lying in bed reading the newspaper leisurely. He also took off his socks, crossed his legs and put one foot on the quilt, looking carefree. After a while, I suddenly felt a stench coming from the room. What is that? I looked everywhere, and finally found it belonged to my father's foot. I said to my father, "Dad, can you read the newspaper in the living room?" Your feet stink, I can't do my homework. "Hearing this, the father didn't go to the living room, but smiled and said to me," smelly? It's impossible. I just washed it. I don't believe you smell it, it's still soap! " After that, he put his smelly feet on my face. I found the smell unbearable, so I held my nose and ran away in my father's complacent laughter.
I ran into the living room and asked my mother for help. After listening to my explanation, my mother came to the bedroom. As soon as I entered the door, my mother said angrily to my father, "Wash your feet quickly, don't push the quilt, or it will stink." If you don't clean up, you won't sleep tonight! " I am also busy agreeing: "Yes!" Unexpectedly, my father said disapprovingly, "How smelly? It smells old. I washed it n times. Smell it, how fragrant it is! " Then he cheekily extended his face to his mother. Every time I think of my mother's sharp-edged eyes staring at him, my father shrinks his smelly feet back in fear and mutters to himself, "It doesn't stink at all. Why didn't I smell it? " Mother listened and said, "Smell your socks yourself!" "Dad really did, carrying socks and smelling hard, and his forehead was wrinkled. But he is still like a cooked duck-his mouth is hard to say, "It doesn't stink, it doesn't stink!" " "and boasted:" You don't see who I am? " "Smelly feet, big fairy!" I quickly added. My mother and I laughed, and my father smiled shyly, and quickly turned down from the bed and washed his feet seriously.
Hey, this "smelly foot fairy", I really hope you can talk about hygiene in the future and don't make big jokes.
6. How to write a detailed composition ―― the golden key to make people alive?
"Character" is the soul of the article, but the common characters in students' exercises are often one-sided, neither personalized nor vivid, and the whole article appears dry, boring and lacking in appeal. If you read these works carefully, you will find a common problem: you often just pursue writing something completely, ignoring vivid, concrete and nuanced details.
Detail description has a wide range and various functions, but it mainly depicts characters and shapes their images. Vivid details are like human cells. Without them, people will lose their lives, characters will lose their flesh and blood, and there are no details. Writer Lee Joon said: "In revealing a character's personality characteristics, a detail sometimes plays the same role as a plot or a scene." As the saying goes, "the spirit is seen in the nuances."
The creation of literary masters attaches great importance to the description of details. In Lu Xun's The True Story of Ah Q, the first sentence of Ah Q was described in detail: "When it was time to draw a circle, the hand just shook with a pen, and the man spread the paper on the ground, and Ah Q fell down and tried to draw a circle. Afraid of being laughed at, he decided to draw a circle, but the damn pen was not only heavy, but also disobedient. It just shook and almost closed, but shrugged its shoulders and turned into a melon seed. " The details of this behavior concretely, vividly and vividly reflect Ah Q's personality characteristics ―― he stuck to the "spiritual victory law" of self-deception until his death. When people read this detailed description, who can not think that Ah Q is ridiculous, pathetic and pitiful? How can we not "mourn its misfortune and anger it" and then think deeply about the national inferiority?
Not only China writers, but also foreign writers. For example, Balzac's Eugenie Grandet wrote that before Grandet died, when the priest sent the gilded cross to his lips to kiss the icon of Christ, "he made a terrible gesture and tried to hold the cross in his hand, which cost him his life." Only this detail vividly depicts the ugly image of the insatiable and untiring miser. It is the detailed description that makes the characters lifelike, and the whole article is full of vitality and strong appeal.
Of course, not all the details of life are valuable, and it is not just to write "fine". A good detail description must be useful, true and typical. It must express the mental outlook of the characters and deepen the theme of the article. It must conform to the personality characteristics of the characters and the reality of real life, and should best highlight the personality characteristics of the characters. Where do the details come from? Literature comes from life, and details are in colorful life. Be a conscientious person in life and always pay attention to the people and things around you, especially the objects you describe. On the streets of Shaoxing, Xianheng Hotel, Lu Xun concentrated on observing short-sleeved gangs and long-sleeved guests before "painting the soul of the silent". In the dark coffee room in Dublin, Joyce coldly looked at the wandering * * *, liars, mental patients, beggars and rich people, brewing Ulysses that shocked the world. Throughout the ages, great writers have always devoted their lives to catching people and things that make the soul tremble and casting them into chapters that will last forever. Capture the details, use the details, make this golden key work for you, and make your article shine! ..
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