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| How can I make this essay more convincing and a stronger mechanically/ organization wise? Also How can I make it where the paper doesn't make it seem like all famous people have to be perfect and can be condemed for something Celebrities Are Ruining Today’s Youth On the morning of July 7th 2007 eight divers discovered the lifeless body of 18 year old David Griego at the bottom of a 25 foot Greely pond in Denver, Colorado. County police revealed that the young teen had drowned imitating a stunt he had seen on the widely popular MTV show, Jackass, which features celebrities like Johnny Knoxville performing various crude and self-injuring stunts and pranks. Although, Griego’s story is only one of the many celebrity influenced deaths that we hear about, he is part of a growing statistic of young teens that have been negatively influenced by celebrities. While some people dismiss the growing trend of youths looking to celebrities for role models as a stage of adolescents, they fail to see the deeper truth (Halpern 25). Celebrities, highlighted by their athletic skills, musical talent, and acting abilities, are also negative influences to the youth of society, and should be held responsible for their actions. Youth today are constantly bombarded with news of panty less celebrities like Britney Spears, and Paris Hilton or exposed to concerts where 16 year old Miley Cyrus is allowed to dance in a mini skirt, and gyrate on stage while singing about cheating boyfriends. Wearing skimpy outfits has become a part of celebrity culture and its influence on young girls has become apparent. “More than 70% of girls are obsessed with trying to imitate the look of a celebrity, and 30% of those girls admit to looking up to over sexualized starlets” (Brandish 9). Stores like Wal-Mart and Sears are vendors of the Hannah Montana brand which includes mini skirts with fake chains hanging off the pockets, and “micro” shorts and pants that carry the Hannah Montana logo and words like “pop star” or “rock star” on the butt. Young girls aiming to dress like Hannah Montana demand these over sexualized outfits from their parents and elicit inappropriate attention. Young Disney celebs have taken on more grown up styles. Such is the case with actors like Kike Palmer and Miley Cyrus who are only 16, yet prance around Hollywood in leather minis and stilettos. These mature styles being modeled by young starlets has little girls as young as five or six wanting to imitate their style and be “grown-up” also. While many critics will say it is ultimately the parents who buy the skimpy clothing their guy’s wear, who is to account for the hundreds of teenage girls that hide short skirts and “boob tubes” in their backpacks only to put it on when their parents are unaware. “12 out of 20 girls say their parents have no idea what types of clothes they buy and don’t know what they wear to school”(Halpern 30). Girls are not the only victims when it comes to the negative influence of celebrities, boys are also impacted. Famous rap artist P. Diddy proudly sells his trademarked “Bitchassness” shirts with his junior Sean John collection, which is marketed to young males. His marketing tactics have boys as young as 12 years old requesting where they can purchase this shirt that glorifies bad grammar and curse words. And Diddy, a father to 4 boys as young as 13 makes a quick buck while young boys get the notion that curse words are appropriate. According to Jake Halpern, author of the book Fame Junkies, “in 2002, celebrity-endorsed clothing labels accounted for 6 percent of the apparel industry; in 2005, it jumped to 10 percent,” and “analysts predict another 15 percent rise by 2009” (Halpern 14). In addition to glorifying obscene language, celebrities also influence how young boys wear their clothes. The “baggy shorts” epidemic has hit every middle school and high school in the form of teen boys. Young boys walk around in baggy shorts because they see rappers like Lil’ Wayne and Jay-z make sagging seem cool. These rappers never considered that they are promoting a style once associated with “gay” men in prison. Mike Males a writer for the San Diego Greenhaven Press argues that, “celebrities don’t influence America’s youth and shouldn’t hold the blame because parents should be the role models” (Males 1). If this is true why have so many celebrities come out with clothing and perfume lines that bear their name? Celebrities know that their name carries consumer appeal, and influences guys to buy a certain shirt or rock a certain pair of kicks. Celebrities also know what they are getting into when they take that first acting gig. If you didn’t want to be looked at by young guys as a role model why start off on a network geared towards guys. Why not start off on soap operas mainly viewed by adults. P. Diddy knows that he is a role model to young boys, so why market a shirt that advertises a cuss word you wouldn’t want your own son repeating in a junior clothing line. Diddy could have easily marketed that shirt to adult men who h |
| Let's talk about your thesis: "Celebrities, highlighted by their athletic skills, musical talent, and acting abilities, are also negative influences to the youth of society, and should be held responsible for their actions." This seems too long and disorganized. Instead: "Celebrities need to understand that they are role models for young adults, and should take responsibility for when their actions are detrimental to society." It's important to have a strong thesis because otherwise the reader will not be able to focus on your argument. The rest of the essay needs to be organized in some way, such as by type of conduct (skimpy dress, criminal actions, inappropriate language...) or by person, (Johnny Knoxville, Miley Cyrus, P. Diddy...). The topic sentence of each paragraph should clearly state which of these you are focusing on. It's clear that you have a lot of information here, so once you organize it you'll be in great shape |
| Do you like the beginning of my teen NOVEL? Feedback please?!? Prologue: When Bella Beckham was a little girl, she would sing along on her mini plastic tape recorder to Michael Jackson and Britney Spears hits and get twirled in the air in daddy’s arms to the sounds of the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. The precocious guy would dance around the table at fancy Upper West Side restaurants using the breadsticks as a baton. And, she would innocently greet a new babysitter in nothing but her birthday suit. Bella possessed willful determination, not to mention songwriting and vocal talent and larger-than-life charisma, which led to an astonishing year for the saucer-eyed, raven-haired pop starlet, who, with her cheeky sense of humor and sexy pin-up girl style, set new standards for the entertainment industry. It was no wonder that little girl from a crazy Italian New York family, turned into the exhibitionist, multi-talented singer-songwriter with a flair for theatrics and entertainment: Bella Beckham. *** Bombshells. Sex kittens. Pin-up girls. In Hollywood, such creatures would always be in plentiful supply. But just about once in a generation, a bona fide sex symbol would come along to stand out from the pack: some beautiful sex-bomb goddess whose mere photograph was enough to flutter the collective pulse and whose appearance on a red carpet caused both flashbulbs and eyes to pop. Such women were synonymous with the S-word because they made men think impure thoughts rather than associate them with any particular movie role, product or publicist-constructed persona. Every era got the sex symbol it deserved, but nobody expected a literature-devouring teenager from a small and utterly unknown town to become the newest "it" girl to ascend into the vaunted pantheon of sex-bomb goddesses. Chapter 1: California Dreaming Life can be hard Or life can be great, It depends on your choices And what lies in your fate. You can be loyal and caring, Live life with laughter and love, And do just what is wanted From the heavens looking out from above. Or you could be different, Rebellious, regretful, and sly, Hurting yourself and others When you cheat and lie. It’s all up to you And the decisions you make, What you do with your time And the friends that you take. So now I hope as you go Through life knowing this, You make the right choices And don’t regret what you miss. Bella Beckham stopped writing. She stared at the last line she had written and then shook her head, pen hovering over the small book with the blue velvet cover. Then, with a sudden gesture, she lifted her head and threw her pen and book at the big bay window, where they bounced off harmlessly and landed on the upholstered window seat in her luxurious new Bentley Continental. When she was fifteen she knew exactly what she wanted. She had wanted the same at twelve. Everything. But now she had made up her mind how to go about attaining it. She was going to trade on her looks, her best and perhaps only talent as far as she was concerned. She thought she could act, or at least learn how. It had to be easier than algebra, or English literature, or any of those other dreary classes in school. But one way or another, she was going to be a star. And she was going to make it on her own. *** |
| Personally, I really like it so far, and I usually really dislike realistic fiction. But yeah, I do think the name is a little too much. Bella Beckham isn't really a name you'd hear a big star have. And then the sight of the name Bella did remind me of Twilight, which I'm sure other teens are going to think of, too. But I think you could get by with it if you had to. And I have a question: Is she already a star or does the story begin with her pre-fame? |
| Do you like the beginning of my TEEN NOVEL? FEEDBACK please!? Prologue: Bombshells. Sex kittens. Pin-up girls. In Hollywood, such creatures would always be in plentiful supply. But just about once in a generation, a bona fide sex symbol would come along to stand out from the pack: some beautiful sex-bomb goddess whose mere photograph was enough to flutter the collective pulse and whose appearance on a red carpet caused both flashbulbs and eyes to pop. Such women were synonymous with the S-word because they made men think impure thoughts rather than associate them with any particular movie role, product or publicist-constructed persona. Every era got the sex symbol it deserved, but nobody expected a literature-devouring teenager from a small and utterly unknown town to become the newest "it" girl to ascend into the vaunted pantheon of sex-bomb goddesses. Chapter 1: California Dreaming Life can be hard Or life can be great, It depends on your choices And what lies in your fate. You can be loyal and caring, Live life with laughter and love, And do just what is wanted From the heavens looking out from above. Or you could be different, Rebellious, regretful, and sly, Hurting yourself and others When you cheat and lie. It’s all up to you And the decisions you make, What you do with your time And the friends that you take. So now I hope as you go Through life knowing this, You make the right choices And don’t regret what you miss. Bella Beckham stopped writing. She stared at the last line she had written and then shook her head, pen hovering over the small book with the blue velvet cover. Then, with a sudden gesture, she lifted her head and threw her pen and book at the big bay window, where they bounced off harmlessly and landed on the upholstered window seat in her English classroom. When she was fifteen she knew exactly what she wanted. She had wanted the same at twelve. Everything. But now she had made up her mind how to go about attaining it. She was going to trade on her looks, her best and perhaps only talent as far as she was concerned. She thought she could act, or at least learn how. It had to be easier than algebra, or English lit, or any of those other dreary classes in school. But one way or another, she was going to be a star. And she was going to make it on her own. When Bella Beckham was a little girl, she would sing along on her mini plastic tape recorder to Michael Jackson and Britney Spears hits and get twirled in the air in daddy’s arms to the sounds of the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. The precocious guy would dance around the table at fancy Upper West Side restaurants using the breadsticks as a baton. And, she would innocently greet a new babysitter in nothing but her birthday suit. Bella possessed willful determination, not to mention songwriting and vocal talent and larger-than-life charisma, which led her to become a saucer-eyed, raven-haired pop starlet, who, with her cheeky sense of humor and sexy pin-up girl style, would set new standards for the entertainment industry. It was no wonder that little girl from a crazy Italian New York family, eventually turned into the exhibitionist, multi-talented singer-songwriter with a flair for theatrics and entertainment: Bella Beckham. *** |
| I like it |
| How does the beginning to my story sound? I want a little feedback on the opening to my story. It's about a teenaged celebrity (Greyson Belle Winters) and her struggles to stay normal with all the pressures on her. Think of it as a novel similar to the books in the "Secrets of My Hollywood Life" series. Please note, this story starts off with a teenhollywood.com article that introduces the relationship between Greyson & Jake, but it isn't featured below. *** “Greyson? Greyson. Greyson Belle Winters, look up from that stupid iPhone of yours and listen to me!” my mom complains, giving me her best evil eye. I smile sheepishly and take a sip of my citrus-infused water. “Sorry. I was reading that Teen Hollywood interview. What were you saying?” Jake laughs. My mom sighs. “I was saying, Kate, Penelope, and Elsie should be here any minute. Now turn your gadget off before I smash it with my Gucci.” I take her seriously. Her brand new snakeskin tote weighs close to twelve pounds. I have no idea what she keeps in there. Just then, Jake’s mom storms out of Cut & Peel’s kitchen door with a tray of food, dressed in her usual printed baby tee and destroyed jeans. She kisses Jake on top of his head and sits down. “Baby greens, hiziki, and cherry salad with a miso dressing alongside an organic rosemary pork roast,” Elsie explains as she sets down the dishes, “I’ve got twenty minutes. Where are Kate and Penelope?” Our agent-publicist duo is surprisingly running late. I can’t ever remember them being late. Actually, I can’t remember being able to go anywhere without being hounded by the paparazzi. “They’re late. So while we’re waiting, I’ll be in the bathroom.”Cut & Peel is located in a lush garden in Santa Monica, and Elsie wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s open and airy, with glass walls, bamboo furniture, and waterfalls bubbling everywhere. I wave and say hello to a few people I know as I make my way across the spacious seven thousand square foot room to the quiet bathroom. No one is in here except for the bathroom attendant. I regloss my lips and turn sideways to get a good look at myself in the mirror. “Greyson Belle Winters. What a surprise,” a smooth, sarcastic voice quips from behind me. I whip around, the tie-dyed skirt of my Sass and Bide chiffon dress twirling out around me. It’s Freesia Macintyre, another well-known teen queen. Did I mention that she hates me since I took her number one spot on Teen Vogue’s Most Fashionable Starlets list last year? It’s too bad, because she used to be really nice: to me and to everyone. She’s transformed into the classic Hollywood bad girl now. “Oh. Hi Freesia. What’s up?” I try to be polite. She smirks and pulls her hair up into a high ponytail. She turns to face the mirror. “Not much,” she starts, which tells me she’s here for something big. “I’m here on a business meeting. About Jack Holton’s new fantasy movie.” I inwardly take her diss. She knows Jack is one of Hollywood’s best directors – one that anyone would die to work with, especially me. I’m a sucker for fantasy movies. “That’s great, Free.” “Oh, shut up.” She turns on her four-inch Jimmy Choo wedges to face me. “Stop the fake friend act. And don’t call me Free.” I take a step back, now completely irritated. “Well, excuse me for trying to be polite,” I say, looking up at her smirk. Why did I have to be only five foot two? “I was trying to be the bigger person.” She rolls her eyes as I head for the door, tipping the attendant who has put on her headphones, most likely to drown her out. “By the way, I think your outfit proves why I was number one of Teen Vogue’s list!” I giggle slightly as I walk away, even though I feel a little bad, too. But, hey, she brought up Jack Holton! “GREYSON! Hi there, girl!” shrieks Penelope. She’s definitely the more hyper half of the Walsh sisters. She stands up to give me a kiss on the cheek while Kate just sits there, typing away on her Blackberry. She looks up a moment later and smiles at me. “Sorry ‘bout that. Hi Greyson, hi Jake. How’s life?” “I just had a run-in with the flower witch in the bathroom, if not good.” “What? Where is it?” Jake jokes, turning to look around the room. Being six minutes older, he likes to take the older brother role and protect me. I never really need the help, but since he’s my best friend I cut him a lot of slack. I sigh. “It is across the room, holding court with the Holton people.” My crew turns in their seats to look around. They spot Maria Andersen, Jack’s personal assistant, up in the balcony eating area, along with several associates from Emage Pictures talking animatedly with Freesia’s party. Kate smacks down a folder full of prospective offers and stands up with an evil gleam in her eyes. “I’ll be right back.” We watch as she makes her way up the stairs and starts talking to the group. While everyone tries to read my devious agent’s lips, I read over what Kate left behind. There are plenty of offers for me right now – more than most peopl |
| It's not my taste. But, looking at from critical perspective I say it has great potential. The descriptionse were sound. You had a firm grasp of the story, guiding the reader where you wanted to. Great job, keep writing. 9/10 |
| Feeback on the intro to my story? It's intended to be a Hollywood-based story about a girl, Greyson Belle Winters, and her struggles to stay normal. I want it to be a teen book, very much like the "Sercrets of My Hollywood Life" series. What do you think of the opening? ****** “Greyson? Greyson. Greyson Belle Winters, look up from that stupid iPhone of yours and listen to me!” my mom complains, giving me her best evil eye. I smile sheepishly at her. I take a sip of my citrus-infused water. “Sorry. I was reading that Teen Hollywood interview. What were you saying?” Jake laughs. My mom sighs. “I was saying, Kate and Elsie should be here any minute. Now turn your gadget off before I smash it with my Gucci.” I take her seriously. Her brand new snakeskin tote weighs close to twelve pounds. I have no idea what she keeps in there. Just then, Elsie storms out of Cut & Peel’s kitchen door with a tray of food, dressed in her usual baby tee and destroyed jeans. She kisses Jake on top of his head and sits down. “I’ve got twenty minutes. Where’s Kate and Penelope?” Our agent-publicist duo is surprisingly running late. I can’t ever remember them being late. Actually, I can’t remember being able to go anywhere without being hounded by the paparazzi. “They’re late. So while we’re waiting, I’ll be in the bathroom.” I dash across the crowded, star-studded organic eatery Jake’s mom owns to the serene and quiet bathroom. No one is in here except for the bathroom attendant. I toss my head up and down to give it some volume and regloss my lips. “Greyson Belle Winters. What a surprise.” A smooth, sarcastic voice quips from behind me. I whip around, the tie-dyed skirt of my Sass and Bide chiffon dress twirling out around me. It’s Freesia Macintyre, another well-known teen queen. Did I mention that she hates me since I took her number one spot on Teen Vogue’s Most Fashionable Starlets list last year? It’s too bad, because she used to be really nice to me. “Oh. Hi Freesia. What’s up?” I try to be polite. She smirks and pulls her hair up into a high ponytail. She turns to face the mirror. “Not much,” she starts, which tells me she’s here for something big. “I’m here on a business meeting. About Jack Holton’s new fantasy movie.” I inwardly take her diss. She knows Jack is one of Hollywood’s best directors – one that anyone would die to work with, especially me. I’m a sucker for fantasy movies. “That’s great, Free.” “Oh, shut up.” She turns on her four-inch Jimmy Choo wedges to face me. “Stop the fake friend act. And don’t call me Free.” I take a step back, now completely irritated. “Well, excuse me for trying to be polite,” I say, looking up at her smirk. Why did I have to be only five foot two? “I was trying to be the bigger person.” She rolls her eyes as I head for the door, tipping the attendant who has put on her headphones, most likely to drown her out. “By the way, I think your outfit proves why I was number one of Teen Vogue’s list!” I giggle slightly as I walk away, even though I feel a little bad, too. But, hey, she brought up Jack Holton! |
| Yea... I'm a bit confused. Who are Jake, Kate, Elsie, and Penelope? And where are the characters at in the scenes? |
| I'm writing a novel, What do you think of it so far? Prologue The End is Near Repent! An aged box top serves an old bag lady's warning to the world. Andee eyes the cautionary text as she strolls through the solid glass doors. These are the words that play repeatedly in Andee's mind as she rides the elevator up to the 16th floor. 562 Fifth Avenue, an overwhelming feat of architecture polluting the street-scape with its neo-modernity. I can't do this anymore, she thought to herself. With each passing floor her stomach curled in anticipation. Today should have been a great day, business was booming and Andee was sitting on a small fortune. Effortlessly, she was good at what she does. CGN paid top dollar for her work every time. It was her ease and inviting nature that proved to be among her best assets. Plus she was gentle on the eyes, that kind of unassuming beauty possessed by old Hollywood screen sirens. Like a young Dorothy Dandridge. She was oblivious to this very fact. People, especially the image conscious piranha and glitterati of her industry, went out of their way to accommodate the attractive. Grasping her aching brow she caught her reflection in the mirrored elevator doors. The remnants of last night's scuffle with a plastered starlet and her ill-tempered body guard. I look like hell she thought to herself. Her curly hair had frizzed, it reeked of stale cigarettes. That whole no makeup and ponytail thing only works in your teens she thought. Around the age of 23 Andee had a glamor epiphany of sorts, a little mascara and a blow out can go a long way. It had become her security blanket, drumming up those notions of feeling naked in its absence. Andee felt too exposed. Questions of appearance seemed trivial in light of the moral dilemma hibernating in her shoulder bag. Today was her Groundhog Day. She longed to remain in that elevator. Stopping the car between floors, she could desert everything that reminded her of herself. Nameless, unattached, her conscience cleansed through this act of solitary reflection. She held her breath as the mirrored doors opened. Andee’s shadow lingered in front of her, a taunting reminder of her existence. The was no running. Any suggestions? Its about a young women who she takes a crappy job an a lark due to the recession.She finds herself in one compromising position after another. |
| Change the beginning if the bag lady has nothing to do with the story. Break up the story into readable paragraphs. One idea, one paragraph - even if it is only one word. Be careful of being repetitious - "she thought to herself" The story is too slow and it seems as though it's just plodding along. If there is anything compelling or exciting in this story, make it happen right up front, or you will lose your readers. |
| What do u think about vanessa hudqens photo scandal? (gabriella from high school musical)? do you think this will boast or damaqe her career? ..PERSONALLY its a known fact that Everyone makes mistakes in the their teens & 20s...it helps us grow. It's sad that this girl has her mistake plastered all over the web. That being said...this wouldn't be the first time a starlet lost a role because of questionable photographs. Anyone remember Lisa Bonet? She got booted off of the Cosby Show (at the time the most watched show in America) because she was nude in a movie. I honestly feel bad for her. & & oh f-----q Don't get me started with all the crotch shots of other celebrities weve qot qoin around & have been watched on the big screen & the little screen. |
| i love vanessa hudgens. she was and still is my role model. she may make mistakes but at least she learned from them. you haven't seen her do anything bad since have you? britney, lindsay, paris, they all still went to bars and did bad things even AFTER they were put in magazines doing bad things. vanessa learned, they didn't, and teens make DO mistakes. =] |