Me and You free essay sample

Speech Laboratory can be an excellent means to give young people practice in public speaking, listening, and note-taking, as well as a host of other skills. It maximized the students ability to communicate effectively. Through various trainings and activities, members of this club will improve in all aspects especially in social, intellectual, and emotional part. The Speech Lab is open for all interested students of Icily In all year levels.This facility will help our students to develop their communication skill through various exercises. It alms to develop young Individuals to become effective immunization that can compete from various schools and places that will totally deepen their sportsmanship and Marina values. PURPOSE The Speech Lab Aims to: 1 . Develop communication skill, 2. Deepen their talents and values through exercises/actively, 3. Promote camaraderie, and 4. Produce good and competitive communicators.Speech Communication Laboratory The newly established Speech Communication Lab in the school is taking this established expertise and supplementing it through the use of other modalities in the investigation of group behavior analysis, social interaction, engagement between beakers and prosodic and gestures accommodation. We will write a custom essay sample on Me and You or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page The lab is a state-of-the-art environment, optimally designed for the multimode capture of conversational social interaction.Using High Definition video cameras, microphones, Microsoft Kinetic devices and biometric sensors, the various nuances and complexities of an interaction can be captured for subsequent analysis. ETC will contribute the expertise in the area of speech synthesis and social interaction, as well as providing an ideal environment within which to robustly test the tools developed for multimode input recognition, multimode fusion, fission and output.

Free Essays on My First Race

My First Race My first mountain bike race was an experience I will never forget. The day started off before the hot sun had even rose. The morning dew was still lying on the ground like a blanket of crystals. As I loaded up the car with the help of my parents, I realized that I was extremely anxious and ready to go. Pulling out of the drive way there was no stopping until we reached the race site, an hour and a half away, at Kickappoo State Park. When arriving I remember seeing bright neon orange signs directing us through the park and to the registration table. After registering and buying a one day racing license, I realized that I was not ready to go. So I frantically ran to the car, unloaded everything that I was going to need including my bike. Then I quickly put my bike together and made sure everything was in the best working shape it could be. However, I would find out later that this was not the case. So after getting everything ready I jumped on my bike and went for a quick warm-up ride to get my aching muscles loosened up. When I returned from this ride, I did a quick look over of my clean bike and was ready to start the race. When it was time to start the race my stomach was a nervous mess. I honestly thought I was going to be sick, but the time had come to start the race. The starter explained all the rules and how the course would be marked off, then counted down from three. As I heard him say go my adrenalin took over my body and the race was on. Riding this course before I had some insight on the harder parts of the trail, this allowed me to pace myself and not burn all of my energy at the very beginning. As the race went on my heart and breathing started getting faster and more intense. As this happened I realized that I had to bear through the excruciating pain and plow on. Once we got further into the trail, everyone realized that it was a muddy mess that smelled of rotten leaves. So much to our surprise a... Free Essays on My First Race Free Essays on My First Race My First Race My first mountain bike race was an experience I will never forget. The day started off before the hot sun had even rose. The morning dew was still lying on the ground like a blanket of crystals. As I loaded up the car with the help of my parents, I realized that I was extremely anxious and ready to go. Pulling out of the drive way there was no stopping until we reached the race site, an hour and a half away, at Kickappoo State Park. When arriving I remember seeing bright neon orange signs directing us through the park and to the registration table. After registering and buying a one day racing license, I realized that I was not ready to go. So I frantically ran to the car, unloaded everything that I was going to need including my bike. Then I quickly put my bike together and made sure everything was in the best working shape it could be. However, I would find out later that this was not the case. So after getting everything ready I jumped on my bike and went for a quick warm-up ride to get my aching muscles loosened up. When I returned from this ride, I did a quick look over of my clean bike and was ready to start the race. When it was time to start the race my stomach was a nervous mess. I honestly thought I was going to be sick, but the time had come to start the race. The starter explained all the rules and how the course would be marked off, then counted down from three. As I heard him say go my adrenalin took over my body and the race was on. Riding this course before I had some insight on the harder parts of the trail, this allowed me to pace myself and not burn all of my energy at the very beginning. As the race went on my heart and breathing started getting faster and more intense. As this happened I realized that I had to bear through the excruciating pain and plow on. Once we got further into the trail, everyone realized that it was a muddy mess that smelled of rotten leaves. So much to our surprise a...

Requirements to Become a Supreme Court Justice

Requirements to Become a Supreme Court Justice There are no explicit requirements in the U.S. Constitution for a person to be nominated to become a Supreme Court justice. No age, education, job experience, or citizenship rules exist. In fact, according to the Constitution, a Supreme Court justice does not need to even have a law degree. What Does the Constitution Say? The Supreme Court was established as a body in Article Three of the Constitution, signed in convention in 1787. Section I describes the roles of the Supreme and Lower Courts; the other two sections are for the kind of cases that should be examined by the Supreme Court (Section 2, since amended by the 11th Amendment); and a definition of treason.   The judicial Power of the United States, shall be vested in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish. The Judges, both of the supreme and inferior Courts, shall hold their Offices during good Behaviour, and shall, at stated Times, receive for their Services, a Compensation, which shall not be diminished during their Continuance in Office. Article 3, U.S. Constitution However, since the Senate confirms justices, experience and background have become important factors in the confirmations, and conventions have been developed and largely followed since the first selection of the court during the first presidents term of office. George Washingtons Requirements The first U.S. President George Washington (1789–1797) had, of course, the most number of nominees to the Supreme Court- 14, although only 11 made it to the court. Washington also named 28 lower court positions, and had several personal criteria that he used to pick a justice: Support and advocacy of the U.S. ConstitutionDistinguished service in the American RevolutionActive participation in the political life of a particular state or the nation as a wholePrior judicial experience on lower tribunalsEither a favorable reputation with his fellows or personally known to Washington himselfGeographic suitability- the original Supreme Court were circuit ridersLove of the country Scholars say his first criterion was the most important to Washington, that the individual had to have a strong voice in protecting the Constitution. The most any other president has been able to nominate is nine, during the four terms of office of Franklin Delano Roosevelt (1932–1945), followed by six nominated by William Howard Taft in his single term from 1909 to 1913. Qualities That Make a Good Judge Several political scientists and others have attempted to assemble a list of criteria that make a good federal judge, more as an exercise of looking at the past history of the court. American scholar Sheldon Goldmans list of eight criteria includes: Neutrality as to parties in litigation  Fair-mindedness  Being well-versed in the lawThe ability to think and write logically and lucidly  Personal integrityGood physical and mental health  Judicial temperament  Able to handle judicial power sensibly Selection Criteria Based on the 200 year history of selection criteria actually used by United States presidents, there are four which most presidents use in varying combinations: Objective meritPersonal friendshipBalancing representation or representativeness on the court (by region, race, gender, religion)Political and ideological compatibility   Sources Abraham, Henry Julian. Justices, Presidents, and Senators: A History of the U.S. Supreme Court Appointments from Washington to Clinton. Lanham, Maryland: Roman Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 1999. Print.Goldman, Sheldon. Judicial Selection and the Qualities That Make a Good Judge. The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 462.1 (1982): 112-24. Print.Hulbary, William E., and Thomas G. Walker. The Supreme Court Selection Process: Presidential Motivations and Judicial Performance. The Western Political Quarterly 33.2 (1980): 185-96. Print.

British Isles Iron Production during the Roman Occupation Essay

British Isles Iron Production during the Roman Occupation - Essay Example The essay "British Isles Iron Production during the Roman Occupation" talks about the evidence concerning the chain of operation in iron production in the British Isles during the Roman occupation. The British Isles were clearly a vital part of the Wealden iron industry having been in operation from pre-historic periods. Considering that its geology that was made up of sandstone Ashdon Beds and clay mad it easier for the extraction of iron. The place was also favorable in that there was enough wood that would be used during the smelting process. Furthermore, the soft sandstones could be carved to form valleys and lakes that would eventually provide water for powering the forges and furnaces. The process of identifying the iron mines depended on the availability of wood used for smelting fuel which was abundant in the British Isles. This was because iron ores were found everywhere in the country and iron quite inexpensive. Britain emerged to be a right place for getting iron which was required for making war machines used by the Romans. The Romans constructed most f the underground mines found in Britain. Iron was mined in open pits as well as underground fields with slaves bearing the weights of the work. After extracting the ore from the mine it was the crushed and washed according to Burnham. Once the iron ore had been mined from the open pits, they had to be cleaned before undergoing further processing. The iron oxide was then left after washing and later was smelted through the bloomery method.

Social and Cultural Views of Health Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Social and Cultural Views of Health - Assignment Example Diversity enables individuals to understand, accept, appreciate and acknowledge differences that exist across societies. Human sexuality is one aspect of cultural practices whose understanding varies from one community or society to another. What is proper and harmless behavior in one community or society can be a serious abomination or breach of social norms in another society. Different communities or societies hold varied understanding about human sexuality. For instance, consider the case of Inis Beag and Mangaian communities. What is right sexual practice within Mangaian community is totally wrong and an abomination within the Inis Beag community. Inis Beag community prohibits premarital marriages and recommends that males and females intending to marry should socialize and stay apart. Marriage is this community is a function reserved for men in the mid-30s and women in the mid-20s (Rathus, Nevid & Fitchner-Rathus, 2014). In Inis Beag community, it is a cultural responsibility for mothers to train their daughters to submit to sexual desires of their husbands. It is through such submissions that the couples can fulfill God’s command requiring human beings to be fruitful and fill the Earth. The persuasion to be submissive also paints another understanding of Inis Beag community that women do not need to be sexually active or seek for sexual interc ourse, but relax and wait to respond to their husbands’ sexual desires. According to Rathus, Nevid, and Fitchner-Rathus (2014), men in Inis Beag community view sexual intercourse as a tiring activity and should be infrequent. The nature of cultural practice within Inis Beag community that restricts women from sexual lust while persuading men that sexual intercourse is tiring makes sexual intercourse a special activity that is worth performing only when seeking for children. Sexual intercourse in this community is not a pleasurable activity to enjoy.

Topics In Global Economy Essay Example for Free

Topics In Global Economy Essay With such drastic globalization of worldwide economics, it is now an issue of vast importance to us all.   The impact of current trends in global economics affects each nation and the corporations within it, as well as every citizen, working or unemployed, within its population.   Global economics was inevitable, given the statistics reflecting the increasing popularity of the world wide web as well as the unlimited communications capabilities allowing us to conduct business or easily buy products either from a local business or from a market on the other side of the world.    However, the global market is chiefly responsible for stabilizing inflation rates in the European and U.S. arenas.   One byproduct of global economics is the development and implementation of the Euro dollar. Although it is result of globalization, it has effectively addressed the long standing issues of confusion and instability in the international trade market due to the continuous fluctuations of the scores of currencies existing in the world marketplace. A significant slowing in inflationary trends has been noted during the last few years but many believe that the future will bring a series of setbacks as well.   In The Grandfather Economic Report, Michael Hodges wrote that â€Å"in the 1990’s the (U.S.) federal government created $2.8 trillion of new debt†¦ more than created in the nation’s entire history prior to 1990 †¦.and another $2.7 trillion since 9/11/01.† Yet federal deposit income in China increases by roughly 15% each year.   This rate of growth will have a serious impact on the U.S. national debt.   With an increasingly disproportional balance of import and export trade between the U.S. and Asia, an alarming loss of revenue will certainly plague America and Europe.   This trend will be hard to reverse if changes in the trade balance can not be initiated.   Most of these conditions resulting from the Asian policy that devalues their currencies compared to that of the dollar. The impact of this policy on the US trade balance is negative.   With more dollars being sent to Asia due to devalued exchange rates, statistics begin to reflect a deficit of funds as well as trade block tactics such as high import tariffs discourage these sales in the Asian market. The impact of this policy on the trade balance on Asian economies is that a continue trend of economic prosperity can be anticipated for these Asian nations.   This trend, if allowed to continue, will also bring growth at successively higher percentage rates with each passing year. The effect this policy has and will have on the interest rate on Asian and US treasury securities is that these rates will continue to fall in the U.S. due in the this policy.   Japan’s Finance Minister Kiichi Miyazawa states that â€Å"We acknowledge the importance of the internationalisation of the yen in light of global economic and financial developments such as the Asian financial crisis: the birth of the euro also attests its importance. In this context, we have recently announced measures to promote the yen’s internationalisation, which include measures to increase liquidity in Japan’s short-term financial markets as well as those to facilitate investment by foreign investors in Japanese government bonds.†Ã‚   This policy will surely bring about a successful reversal of downward spiraling of Asian interest rates. As for how this policy will level of indebtedness of US households, businesses and Government, a continuation of this policy regime will undoubtedly result in a rise in debt levels for all, as set the stage for possible economic depression not only for the U.S. Government and global scale due to enormity of the global economics venue. Immediate and viable initiatives must be utilized in order to prevent this threat.

We Cannot Permit Infringements on Privacy Essay -- Privacy Essays

George Orwell foresees a nightmarish-future for the world in his book 1984, where individualism loses precedence to "the good of society," and with it goes the individual's private life. "The [controlling] Party" in the socialist government knows the intimate details of all citizens, and prosecutes those who violate social orders through threatening speech, behavior or thoughts. The omnipresent visual warning "Big Brother is Watching You,† reminds citizens that no personal information is safe from the "Thought Police." While this may seem far-fetched to some, Orwell envisioned technology facilitating government's abuse of power in 1950; in the twenty-first century, progress has left one's private life susceptible to interested parties in both the public and private sectors. In 1997, Ralph Nader cautioned, "The people are not organized not equipped with the knowledge, tools or skills to confront the invasions of the self they can see, let alone the far greater, more subterranean kinds of surveillance" (viii). With the rise of computers to their current capabilities, collecting, storing, accessing and sharing personal data has become easier than ever before: governments and companies no longer keep files of paper records on individuals, which accessing, stealing or sharing would be too arduous a task, but rather electronic databases that they can easily create, access and link. Ellen Alderman and Caroline Kennedy note in their book The Right to Privacy, "From a privacy point of view, we are in the midst of the most unsettling period in [the computer] revolution" (326). Computers do not threaten personal privacy, though, nor violate any right granted to Americans: the word 'privacy' does not appear in the Constitution, nor does the p... ...rmation Center. â€Å"Double Trouble with the DoubleClick/Abacus Merger.† March 21, 2000. McWilliams, Brian. â€Å"Netscape Navigator Browser Snoops on Searches.† Newsbytes. March 7, 2002. "Finding Pay Dirt in Scannable Driver's Licenses.† New York Times, March 21, 2002: http://www.privacy.org Nicholson, Jonathan. â€Å"Account Info Sought to Combat Terror.† Reuters, February 26, 2002. Electronic Privacy Information Center. â€Å"Bill Track.† Electronic Frontier Foundation. â€Å"Analysis of the Provisions of the USA Patriot Act.† October 31, 2002. American Civil Liberties Union. â€Å"USA Patriot Act Boosts Government Powers While Cutting Back on Traditional Checks and Balances.† November 1, 2002. Additional Sources â€Å"Freedom of Speech, The EU Data Protection Directive and the Swedish Personal Data Act.† June 9, 2000. Online Privacy Alliance. â€Å"Privacy Initiatives by the Private Sector.† We Cannot Permit Infringements on Privacy Essay -- Privacy Essays George Orwell foresees a nightmarish-future for the world in his book 1984, where individualism loses precedence to "the good of society," and with it goes the individual's private life. "The [controlling] Party" in the socialist government knows the intimate details of all citizens, and prosecutes those who violate social orders through threatening speech, behavior or thoughts. The omnipresent visual warning "Big Brother is Watching You,† reminds citizens that no personal information is safe from the "Thought Police." While this may seem far-fetched to some, Orwell envisioned technology facilitating government's abuse of power in 1950; in the twenty-first century, progress has left one's private life susceptible to interested parties in both the public and private sectors. In 1997, Ralph Nader cautioned, "The people are not organized not equipped with the knowledge, tools or skills to confront the invasions of the self they can see, let alone the far greater, more subterranean kinds of surveillance" (viii). With the rise of computers to their current capabilities, collecting, storing, accessing and sharing personal data has become easier than ever before: governments and companies no longer keep files of paper records on individuals, which accessing, stealing or sharing would be too arduous a task, but rather electronic databases that they can easily create, access and link. Ellen Alderman and Caroline Kennedy note in their book The Right to Privacy, "From a privacy point of view, we are in the midst of the most unsettling period in [the computer] revolution" (326). Computers do not threaten personal privacy, though, nor violate any right granted to Americans: the word 'privacy' does not appear in the Constitution, nor does the p... ...rmation Center. â€Å"Double Trouble with the DoubleClick/Abacus Merger.† March 21, 2000. McWilliams, Brian. â€Å"Netscape Navigator Browser Snoops on Searches.† Newsbytes. March 7, 2002. "Finding Pay Dirt in Scannable Driver's Licenses.† New York Times, March 21, 2002: http://www.privacy.org Nicholson, Jonathan. â€Å"Account Info Sought to Combat Terror.† Reuters, February 26, 2002. Electronic Privacy Information Center. â€Å"Bill Track.† Electronic Frontier Foundation. â€Å"Analysis of the Provisions of the USA Patriot Act.† October 31, 2002. American Civil Liberties Union. â€Å"USA Patriot Act Boosts Government Powers While Cutting Back on Traditional Checks and Balances.† November 1, 2002. Additional Sources â€Å"Freedom of Speech, The EU Data Protection Directive and the Swedish Personal Data Act.† June 9, 2000. Online Privacy Alliance. â€Å"Privacy Initiatives by the Private Sector.†

Nutritive Value of Vegetables Essay

All vegetables are valuable sources of nutrients. Some Vitamin A sources of vegetables are leafy green and bright orange vegetables. Cabbage, Tomatoes and potatoes are a good source of vitamin B. Iron and Calcium are the most important minerals. Leafy green vegetables are a good mineral source. Some vegetables contain carbohydrates- sugar like peas, sweet potatoes, corn and beans. Nutritive Value of Fruit Fruit of all kinds is valuable for the nutrients supplied. Everybody needs Vitamin and Mineral content that fruit contributes to be healthy. Because vitamin C can’t be stored in the body, a daily source of vitamin C is needed. Eating oranges, grapefruit, or mandarins will supply enough vitamin C for the day. The bright yellow and orange colour of any fruit indicates a rich source of vitamin A. Iron is the most important mineral available from fruit. Some of the greatest minerals in fruits are right under the skin so the skin should be eaten if possible. Storing Fresh Vegetables -Tuber vegetables should be stored in a cool, dark, airy place. Most will keep for 4-9 months long is stored in cool areas. -Remove tops of root vegetables before storing in a cool, moist place they will keep for several weeks if stored properly. -Store bulb vegetables uncovered in a dry airy place lasting several weeks – Stalk vegetables should be put in a plastic bag and kept in a cool area and used within a week -Leaf vegetables should be stored in a plastic bag in cool area and must only stayed good a few days. -All seed vegetables should be stored in the fridge -Mushrooms should be put in a paper bag in fridge and not in a plastic bag because the paper absorbs any moisture given off by the mushrooms, should be used within a week.

A Game of Thrones Chapter Fifty-three

Bran The Karstarks came in on a cold windy morning, bringing three hundred horsemen and near two thousand foot from their castle at Karhold. The steel points of their pikes winked in the pale sunlight as the column approached. A man went before them, pounding out a slow, deep-throated marching rhythm on a drum that was bigger than he was, boom, boom, boom. Bran watched them come from a guard turret atop the outer wall, peering through Maester Luwin's bronze far-eye while perched on Hodor's shoulders. Lord Rickard himself led them, his sons Harrion and Eddard and Torrhen riding beside him beneath night-black banners emblazoned with the white sunburst of their House. Old Nan said they had Stark blood in them, going back hundreds of years, but they did not look like Starks to Bran. They were big men, and fierce, faces covered with thick beards, hair worn loose past the shoulders. Their cloaks were made of skins, the pelts of bear and seal and wolf. They were the last, he knew. The other lords were already here, with their hosts. Bran yearned to ride out among them, to see the winter houses full to bursting, the jostling crowds in the market square every morning, the streets rutted and torn by wheel and hoof. But Robb had forbidden him to leave the castle. â€Å"We have no men to spare to guard you,† his brother had explained. â€Å"I'll take Summer,† Bran argued. â€Å"Don't act the boy with me, Bran,† Robb said. â€Å"You know better than that. Only two days ago one of Lord Bolton's men knifed one of Lord Cerwyn's at the Smoking Log. Our lady mother would skin me for a pelt if I let you put yourself at risk.† He was using the voice of Robb the Lord when he said it; Bran knew that meant there was no appeal. It was because of what had happened in the wolfswood, he knew. The memory still gave him bad dreams. He had been as helpless as a baby, no more able to defend himself than Rickon would have been. Less, even . . . Rickon would have kicked them, at the least. It shamed him. He was only a few years younger than Robb; if his brother was almost a man grown, so was he. He should have been able to protect himself. A year ago, before, he would have visited the town even if it meant climbing over the walls by himself. In those days he could run down stairs, get on and off his pony by himself, and wield a wooden sword good enough to knock Prince Tommen in the dirt. Now he could only watch, peering out through Maester Luwin's lens tube. The maester had taught him all the banners: the mailed fist of the Glovers, silver on scarlet; Lady Mormont's black bear; the hideous flayed man that went before Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort; a bull moose for the Hornwoods; a battle-axe for the Cerwyns; three sentinel trees for the Tallharts; and the fearsome sigil of House Umber, a roaring giant in shattered chains. And soon enough he learned the faces too, when the lords and their sons and knights retainer came to Winterfell to feast. Even the Great Hall was not large enough to seat all of them at once, so Robb hosted each of the principal bannermen in turn. Bran was always given the place of honor at his brother's right hand. Some of the lords bannermen gave him queer hard stares as he sat there, as if they wondered by what right a green boy should be placed above them, and him a cripple too. â€Å"How many is it now?† Bran asked Maester Luwin as Lord Karstark and his sons rode through the gates in the outer wall. â€Å"Twelve thousand men, or near enough as makes no matter.† â€Å"How many knights?† â€Å"Few enough,† the maester said with a touch of impatience. â€Å"To be a knight, you must stand your vigil in a sept, and be anointed with the seven oils to consecrate your vows. In the north, only a few of the great houses worship the Seven. The rest honor the old gods, and name no knights . . . but those lords and their sons and sworn swords are no less fierce or loyal or honorable. A man's worth is not marked by a ser before his name. As I have told you a hundred times before.† â€Å"Still,† said Bran, â€Å"how many knights?† Maester Luwin sighed. â€Å"Three hundred, perhaps four . . . among three thousand armored lances who are not knights.† â€Å"Lord Karstark is the last,† Bran said thoughtfully. â€Å"Robb will feast him tonight.† â€Å"No doubt he will.† â€Å"How long before . . . before they go?† â€Å"He must march soon, or not at all,† Maester Luwin said. â€Å"The winter town is full to bursting, and this army of his will eat the countryside clean if it camps here much longer. Others are waiting to join him all along the kingsroad, barrow knights and crannogmen and the Lords Manderly and Flint. The fighting has begun in the riverlands, and your brother has many leagues to go.† â€Å"I know.† Bran felt as miserable as he sounded. He handed the bronze tube back to the maester, and noticed how thin Luwin's hair had grown on top. He could see the pink of scalp showing through. It felt queer to look down on him this way, when he'd spent his whole life looking up at him, but when you sat on Hodor's back you looked down on everyone. â€Å"I don't want to watch anymore. Hodor, take me back to the keep.† â€Å"Hodor,† said Hodor. Maester Luwin tucked the tube up his sleeve. â€Å"Bran, your lord brother will not have time to see you now. He must greet Lord Karstark and his sons and make them welcome.† â€Å"I won't trouble Robb. I want to visit the godswood.† He put his hand on Hodor's shoulder. â€Å"Hodor.† A series of chisel-cut handholds made a ladder in the granite of the tower's inner wall. Hodor hummed tunelessly as he went down hand under hand, Bran bouncing against his back in the wicker seat that Maester Luwin had fashioned for him. Luwin had gotten the idea from the baskets the women used to carry firewood on their backs; after that it had been a simple matter of cutting legholes and attaching some new straps to spread Bran's weight more evenly. It was not as good as riding Dancer, but there were places Dancer could not go, and this did not shame Bran the way it did when Hodor carried him in his arms like a baby. Hodor seemed to like it too, though with Hodor it was hard to tell. The only tricky part was doors. Sometimes Hodor forgot that he had Bran on his back, and that could be painful when he went through a door. For near a fortnight there had been so many comings and goings that Robb ordered both portcullises kept up and the drawbridge down between them, even in the dead of night. A long column of armored lancers was crossing the moat between the walls when Bran emerged from the tower; Karstark men, following their lords into the castle. They wore black iron halfhelms and black woolen cloaks patterned with the white sunburst. Hodor trotted along beside them, smiling to himself, his boots thudding against the wood of the drawbridge. The riders gave them queer looks as they went by, and once Bran heard someone guffaw. He refused to let it trouble him. â€Å"Men will look at you,† Maester Luwin had warned him the first time they had strapped the wicker basket around Hodor's chest. â€Å"They will look, and they will talk, and some will mock you.† Let them mock, Bran thought. No one mocked him in his bedchamber, but he would not live his life in bed. As they passed beneath the gatehouse portcullis, Bran put two fingers into his mouth and whistled. Summer came loping across the yard. Suddenly the Karstark lancers were fighting for control, as their horses rolled their eyes and whickered in dismay. One stallion reared, screaming, his rider cursing and hanging on desperately. The scent of the direwolves sent horses into a frenzy of fear if they were not accustomed to it, but they'd quiet soon enough once Summer was gone. â€Å"The godswood,† Bran reminded Hodor. Even Winterfell itself was crowded. The yard rang to the sound of sword and axe, the rumble of wagons, and the barking of dogs. The armory doors were open, and Bran glimpsed Mikken at his forge, his hammer ringing as sweat dripped off his bare chest. Bran had never seen as many strangers in all his years, not even when King Robert had come to visit Father. He tried not to flinch as Hodor ducked through a low door. They walked down a long dim hallway, Summer padding easily beside them. The wolf glanced up from time to time, eyes smoldering like liquid gold. Bran would have liked to touch him, but he was riding too high for his hand to reach. The godswood was an island of peace in the sea of chaos that Winterfell had become. Hodor made his way through the dense stands of oak and ironwood and sentinels, to the still pool beside the heart tree. He stopped under the gnarled limbs of the weirwood, humming. Bran reached up over his head and pulled himself out of his seat, drawing the dead weight of his legs up through the holes in the wicker basket. He hung for a moment, dangling, the dark red leaves brushing against his face, until Hodor lifted him and lowered him to the smooth stone beside the water. â€Å"I want to be by myself for a while,† he said. â€Å"You go soak. Go to the pools.† â€Å"Hodor.† Hodor stomped through the trees and vanished. Across the godswood, beneath the windows of the Guest House, an underground hot spring fed three small ponds. Steam rose from the water day and night, and the wall that loomed above was thick with moss. Hodor hated cold water, and would fight like a treed wildcat when threatened with soap, but he would happily immerse himself in the hottest pool and sit for hours, giving a loud burp to echo the spring whenever a bubble rose from the murky green depths to break upon the surface. Summer lapped at the water and settled down at Bran's side. He rubbed the wolf under the jaw, and for a moment boy and beast both felt at peace. Bran had always liked the godswood, even before, but of late he found himself drawn to it more and more. Even the heart tree no longer scared him the way it used to. The deep red eyes carved into the pale trunk still watched him, yet somehow he took comfort from that now. The gods were looking over him, he told himself; the old gods, gods of the Starks and the First Men and the children of the forest, his father's gods. He felt safe in their sight, and the deep silence of the trees helped him think. Bran had been thinking a lot since his fall; thinking, and dreaming, and talking with the gods. â€Å"Please make it so Robb won't go away,† he prayed softly. He moved his hand through the cold water, sending ripples across the pool. â€Å"Please make him stay. Or if he has to go, bring him home safe, with Mother and Father and the girls. And make it . . . make it so Rickon understands.† His baby brother had been wild as a winter storm since he learned Robb was riding off to war, weeping and angry by turns. He'd refused to eat, cried and screamed for most of a night, even punched Old Nan when she tried to sing him to sleep, and the next day he'd vanished. Robb had set half the castle searching for him, and when at last they'd found him down in the crypts, Rickon had slashed at them with a rusted iron sword he'd snatched from a dead king's hand, and Shaggydog had come slavering out of the darkness like a green-eyed demon. The wolf was near as wild as Rickon; he'd bitten Gage on the arm and torn a chunk of flesh from Mikken's thigh. It had taken Robb himself and Grey Wind to bring him to bay. Farlen had the black wolf chained up in the kennels now, and Rickon cried all the more for being without him. Maester Luwin counseled Robb to remain at Winterfell, and Bran pleaded with him too, for his own sake as much as Rickon's, but his brother only shook his head stubbornly and said, â€Å"I don't want to go. I have to.† It was only half a lie. Someone had to go, to hold the Neck and help the Tullys against the Lannisters, Bran could understand that, but it did not have to be Robb. His brother might have given the command to Hal Mollen or Theon Greyjoy, or to one of his lords bannermen. Maester Luwin urged him to do just that, but Robb would not hear of it. â€Å"My lord father would never have sent men off to die while he huddled like a craven behind the walls of Winterfell,† he said, all Robb the Lord. Robb seemed half a stranger to Bran now, transformed, a lord in truth, though he had not yet seen his sixteenth name day. Even their father's bannermen seemed to sense it. Many tried to test him, each in his own way. Roose Bolton and Robett Glover both demanded the honor of battle command, the first brusquely, the second with a smile and a jest. Stout, grey-haired Maege Mormont, dressed in mail like a man, told Robb bluntly that he was young enough to be her grandson, and had no business giving her commands . . . but as it happened, she had a granddaughter she would be willing to have him marry. Soft-spoken Lord Cerwyn had actually brought his daughter with him, a plump, homely maid of thirty years who sat at her father's left hand and never lifted her eyes from her plate. Jovial Lord Hornwood had no daughters, but he did bring gifts, a horse one day, a haunch of venison the next, a silver-chased hunting horn the day after, and he asked nothing in return . . . nothing but a certain h oldfast taken from his grandfather, and hunting rights north of a certain ridge, and leave to dam the White Knife, if it please the lord. Robb answered each of them with cool courtesy, much as Father might have, and somehow he bent them to his will. And when Lord Umber, who was called the Greatjon by his men and stood as tall as Hodor and twice as wide, threatened to take his forces home if he was placed behind the Hornwoods or the Cerwyns in the order of march, Robb told him he was welcome to do so. â€Å"And when we are done with the Lannisters,† he promised, scratching Grey Wind behind the ear, â€Å"we will march back north, root you out of your keep, and hang you for an oathbreaker.† Cursing, the Greatjon flung a flagon of ale into the fire and bellowed that Robb was so green he must piss grass. When Hallis Mollen moved to restrain him, he knocked him to the floor, kicked over a table, and unsheathed the biggest, ugliest greatsword that Bran had ever seen. All along the benches, his sons and brothers and sworn swords leapt to their feet, grabbing for their steel. Yet Robb only said a quiet word, and in a snarl and the blink of an eye Lord Umber was on his back, his sword spinning on the floor three feet away and his hand dripping blood where Grey Wind had bitten off two fingers. â€Å"My lord father taught me that it was death to bare steel against your liege lord,† Robb said, â€Å"but doubtless you only meant to cut my meat.† Bran's bowels went to water as the Greatjon struggled to rise, sucking at the red stumps of fingers . . . but then, astonishingly, the huge man laughed. â€Å"Your meat,† he roared, â€Å"is bloody tough.† And somehow after that the Greatjon became Robb's right hand, his staunchest champion, loudly telling all and sundry that the boy lord was a Stark after all, and they'd damn well better bend their knees if they didn't fancy having them chewed off. Yet that very night, his brother came to Bran's bedchamber pale and shaken, after the fires had burned low in the Great Hall. â€Å"I thought he was going to kill me,† Robb confessed. â€Å"Did you see the way he threw down Hal, like he was no bigger than Rickon? Gods, I was so scared. And the Greatjon's not the worst of them, only the loudest. Lord Roose never says a word, he only looks at me, and all I can think of is that room they have in the Dreadfort, where the Boltons hang the skins of their enemies.† â€Å"That's just one of Old Nan's stories,† Bran said. A note of doubt crept into his voice. â€Å"Isn't it?† â€Å"I don't know.† He gave a weary shake of his head. â€Å"Lord Cerwyn means to take his daughter south with us. To cook for him, he says. Theon is certain I'll find the girl in my bedroll one night. I wish . . . I wish Father was here . . . â€Å" That was the one thing they could agree on, Bran and Rickon and Robb the Lord; they all wished Father was here. But Lord Eddard was a thousand leagues away, a captive in some dungeon, a hunted fugitive running for his life, or even dead. No one seemed to know for certain; every traveler told a different tale, each more terrifying than the last. The heads of Father's guardsmen were rotting on the walls of the Red Keep, impaled on spikes. King Robert was dead at Father's hands. The Baratheons had laid siege to King's Landing. Lord Eddard had fled south with the king's wicked brother Renly. Arya and Sansa had been murdered by the Hound. Mother had killed Tyrion the Imp and hung his body from the walls of Riverrun. Lord Tywin Lannister was marching on the Eyrie, burning and slaughtering as he went. One wine-sodden taleteller even claimed that Rhaegar Targaryen had returned from the dead and was marshaling a vast host of ancient heroes on Dragonstone to reclaim his father's throne. When the raven came, bearing a letter marked with Father's own seal and written in Sansa's hand, the cruel truth seemed no less incredible. Bran would never forget the look on Robb's face as he stared at their sister's words. â€Å"She says Father conspired at treason with the king's brothers,† he read. â€Å"King Robert is dead, and Mother and I are summoned to the Red Keep to swear fealty to Joffrey. She says we must be loyal, and when she marries Joffrey she will plead with him to spare our lord father's life.† His fingers closed into a fist, crushing Sansa's letter between them. â€Å"And she says nothing of Arya, nothing, not so much as a word. Damn her! What's wrong with the girl?† Bran felt all cold inside. â€Å"She lost her wolf,† he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows. She had gone south, and only her bones had returned. Their grandfather, old Lord Rickard, had gone as well, with his son Brandon who was Father's brother, and two hundred of his best men. None had ever returned. And Father had gone south, with Arya and Sansa, and Jory and Hullen and Fat Tom and the rest, and later Mother and Ser Rodrik had gone, and they hadn't come back either. And now Robb meant to go. Not to King's Landing and not to swear fealty, but to Riverrun, with a sword in his hand. And if their lord father were truly a prisoner, that could mean his death for a certainty. It frightened Bran more than he could say. â€Å"If Robb has to go, watch over him,† Bran entreated the old gods, as they watched him with the heart tree's red eyes, â€Å"and watch over his men, Hal and Quent and the rest, and Lord Umber and Lady Mormont and the other lords. And Theon too, I suppose. Watch them and keep them safe, if it please you, gods. Help them defeat the Lannisters and save Father and bring them home.† A faint wind sighed through the godswood and the red leaves stirred and whispered. Summer bared his teeth. â€Å"You hear them, boy?† a voice asked. Bran lifted his head. Osha stood across the pool, beneath an ancient oak, her face shadowed by leaves. Even in irons, the wildling moved quiet as a cat. Summer circled the pool, sniffed at her. The tall woman flinched. â€Å"Summer, to me,† Bran called. The direwolf took one final sniff, spun, and bounded back. Bran wrapped his arms around him. â€Å"What are you doing here?† He had not seen Osha since they'd taken her captive in the wolfswood, though he knew she'd been set to working in the kitchens. â€Å"They are my gods too,† Osha said. â€Å"Beyond the Wall, they are the only gods.† Her hair was growing out, brown and shaggy. It made her look more womanly, that and the simple dress of brown roughspun they'd given her when they took her mail and leather. â€Å"Gage lets me have my prayers from time to time, when I feel the need, and I let him do as he likes under my skirt, when he feels the need. It's nothing to me. I like the smell of flour on his hands, and he's gentler than Stiv.† She gave an awkward bow. â€Å"I'll leave you. There's pots that want scouring.† â€Å"No, stay,† Bran commanded her. â€Å"Tell me what you meant, about hearing the gods.† Osha studied him. â€Å"You asked them and they're answering. Open your ears, listen, you'll hear.† Bran listened. â€Å"It's only the wind,† he said after a moment, uncertain. â€Å"The leaves are rustling.† â€Å"Who do you think sends the wind, if not the gods?† She seated herself across the pool from him, clinking faintly as she moved. Mikken had fixed iron manacles to her ankles, with a heavy chain between them; she could walk, so long as she kept her strides small, but there was no way for her to run, or climb, or mount a horse. â€Å"They see you, boy. They hear you talking. That rustling, that's them talking back.† â€Å"What are they saying?† â€Å"They're sad. Your lord brother will get no help from them, not where he's going. The old gods have no power in the south. The weirwoods there were all cut down, thousands of years ago. How can they watch your brother when they have no eyes?† Bran had not thought of that. It frightened him. If even the gods could not help his brother, what hope was there? Maybe Osha wasn't hearing them right. He cocked his head and tried to listen again. He thought he could hear the sadness now, but nothing more than that. The rustling grew louder. Bran heard muffled footfalls and a low humming, and Hodor came blundering out of the trees, naked and smiling. â€Å"Hodor!† â€Å"He must have heard our voices,† Bran said. â€Å"Hodor, you forgot your clothes.† â€Å"Hodor,† Hodor agreed. He was dripping wet from the neck down, steaming in the chill air. His body was covered with brown hair, thick as a pelt. Between his legs, his manhood swung long and heavy. Osha eyed him with a sour smile. â€Å"Now there's a big man,† she said. â€Å"He has giant's blood in him, or I'm the queen.† â€Å"Maester Luwin says there are no more giants. He says they're all dead, like the children of the forest. All that's left of them are old bones in the earth that men turn up with plows from time to time.† â€Å"Let Maester Luwin ride beyond the Wall,† Osha said. â€Å"He'll find giants then, or they'll find him. My brother killed one. Ten foot tall she was, and stunted at that. They've been known to grow big as twelve and thirteen feet. Fierce things they are too, all hair and teeth, and the wives have beards like their husbands, so there's no telling them apart. The women take human men for lovers, and it's from them the half bloods come. It goes harder on the women they catch. The men are so big they'll rip a maid apart before they get her with child.† She grinned at him. â€Å"But you don't know what I mean, do you, boy?† â€Å"Yes I do,† Bran insisted. He understood about mating; he had seen dogs in the yard, and watched a stallion mount a mare. But talking about it made him uncomfortable. He looked at Hodor. â€Å"Go back and bring your clothes, Hodor,† he said. â€Å"Go dress.† â€Å"Hodor.† He walked back the way he had come, ducking under a low-hanging tree limb. He was awfully big, Bran thought as he watched him go. â€Å"Are there truly giants beyond the Wall?† he asked Osha, uncertainly. â€Å"Giants and worse than giants, Lordling. I tried to tell your brother when he asked his questions, him and your maester and that smiley boy Greyjoy. The cold winds are rising, and men go out from their fires and never come back . . . or if they do, they're not men no more, but only wights, with blue eyes and cold black hands. Why do you think I run south with Stiv and Hali and the rest of them fools? Mance thinks he'll fight, the brave sweet stubborn man, like the white walkers were no more than rangers, but what does he know? He can call himself King-beyond-the-Wall all he likes, but he's still just another old black crow who flew down from the Shadow Tower. He's never tasted winter. I was born up there, child, like my mother and her mother before her and her mother before her, born of the Free Folk. We remember.† Osha stood, her chains rattling together. â€Å"I tried to tell your lordling brother. Only yesterday, when I saw him in the yard. ‘M'lord Stark,' I cal led to him, respectful as you please, but he looked through me, and that sweaty oaf Greatjon Umber shoves me out of the path. So be it. I'll wear my irons and hold my tongue. A man who won't listen can't hear.† â€Å"Tell me. Robb will listen to me, I know he will.† â€Å"Will he now? We'll see. You tell him this, m'lord. You tell him he's bound on marching the wrong way. It's north he should be taking his swords. North, not south. You hear me?† Bran nodded. â€Å"I'll tell him.† But that night, when they feasted in the Great Hall, Robb was not with them. He took his meal in the solar instead, with Lord Rickard and the Greatjon and the other lords bannermen, to make the final plans for the long march to come. It was left to Bran to fill his place at the head of the table, and act the host to Lord Karstark's sons and honored friends. They were already at their places when Hodor carried Bran into the hall on his back, and knelt beside the high seat. Two of the serving men helped lift him from his basket. Bran could feel the eyes of every stranger in the hall. It had grown quiet. â€Å"My lords,† Hallis Mollen announced, â€Å"Brandon Stark, of Winterfell.† â€Å"I welcome you to our fires,† Bran said stiffly, â€Å"and offer you meat and mead in honor of our friendship.† Harrion Karstark, the oldest of Lord Rickard's sons, bowed, and his brothers after him, yet as they settled back in their places he heard the younger two talking in low voices, over the clatter of wine cups. † . . . sooner die than live like that,† muttered one, his father's namesake Eddard, and his brother Torrhen said likely the boy was broken inside as well as out, too craven to take his own life. Broken, Bran thought bitterly as he clutched his knife. Is that what he was now? Bran the Broken? â€Å"I don't want to be broken,† he whispered fiercely to Maester Luwin, who'd been seated to his right. â€Å"I want to be a knight.† â€Å"There are some who call my order the knights of the mind,† Luwin replied. â€Å"You are a surpassing clever boy when you work at it, Bran. Have you ever thought that you might wear a maester's chain? There is no limit to what you might learn.† â€Å"I want to learn magic,† Bran told him. â€Å"The crow promised that I would fly.† Maester Luwin sighed. â€Å"I can teach you history, healing, herblore. I can teach you the speech of ravens, and how to build a castle, and the way a sailor steers his ship by the stars. I can teach you to measure the days and mark the seasons, and at the Citadel in Oldtown they can teach you a thousand things more. But, Bran, no man can teach you magic.† â€Å"The children could,† Bran said. â€Å"The children of the forest.† That reminded him of the promise he had made to Osha in the godswood, so he told Luwin what she had said. The maester listened politely. â€Å"The wildling woman could give Old Nan lessons in telling tales, I think,† he said when Bran was done. â€Å"I will talk with her again if you like, but it would be best if you did not trouble your brother with this folly. He has more than enough to concern him without fretting over giants and dead men in the woods. It's the Lannisters who hold your lord father, Bran, not the children of the forest.† He put a gentle hand on Bran's arm. â€Å"Think on what I said, child.† And two days later, as a red dawn broke across a windswept sky, Bran found himself in the yard beneath the gatehouse, strapped atop Dancer as he said his farewells to his brother. â€Å"You are the lord in Winterfell now,† Robb told him. He was mounted on a shaggy grey stallion, his shield hung from the horse's side; wood banded with iron, white and grey, and on it the snarling face of a direwolf. His brother wore grey chainmail over bleached leathers, sword and dagger at his waist, a fur-trimmed cloak across his shoulders. â€Å"You must take my place, as I took Father's, until we come home.† â€Å"I know,† Bran replied miserably. He had never felt so little or alone or scared. He did not know how to be a lord. â€Å"Listen to Maester Luwin's counsel, and take care of Rickon. Tell him that I'll be back as soon as the fighting is done.† Rickon had refused to come down. He was up in his chamber, redeyed and defiant. â€Å"No!† he'd screamed when Bran had asked if he didn't want to say farewell to Robb. â€Å"NO farewell!† â€Å"I told him,† Bran said. â€Å"He says no one ever comes back.† â€Å"He can't be a baby forever. He's a Stark, and near four.† Robb sighed. â€Å"Well, Mother will be home soon. And I'll bring back Father, I promise.† He wheeled his courser around and trotted away. Grey Wind followed, loping beside the warhorse, lean and swift. Hallis Mollen went before them through the gate, carrying the rippling white banner of House Stark atop a high standard of grey ash. Theon Greyjoy and the Greatjon fell in on either side of Robb, and their knights formed up in a double column behind them, steel-tipped lances glinting in the sun. Uncomfortably, he remembered Osha's words. He's marching the wrong way, he thought. For an instant he wanted to gallop after him and shout a warning, but when Robb vanished beneath the portcullis, the moment was gone. Beyond the castle walls, a roar of sound went up. The foot soldiers and townsfolk were cheering Robb as he rode past, Bran knew; cheering for Lord Stark, for the Lord of Winterfell on his great stallion, with his cloak streaming and Grey Wind racing beside him. They would never cheer for him that way, he realized with a dull ache. He might be the lord in Winterfell while his brother and father were gone, but he was still Bran the Broken. He could not even get off his own horse, except to fall. When the distant cheers had faded to silence and the yard was empty at last, Winterfell seemed deserted and dead. Bran looked around at the faces of those who remained, women and children and old men . . . and Hodor. The huge stableboy had a lost and frightened look to his face. â€Å"Hodor?† he said sadly. â€Å"Hodor,† Bran agreed, wondering what it meant.

Behavior Management Tips and Techniques

Behavior Management Tips and Techniques As teachers, we often have to deal uncooperative or disrespectful behavior from our students. To eliminate this behavior, its important to address it quickly. A great way to do this is by using a few simple behavior management strategies that help promote appropriate behavior. Morning Message The best way to start your day in an organized way is with a morning message to your students. Each morning, write a short message on the front board that includes quick tasks for the students to complete. These short tasks will keep the students busy and, in turn, eliminate the chaos and chatter in the morning. Example: Good morning Class! Its a beautiful day today! Try and see how many words you can create from the phrase beautiful day. Pick a Stick To help manage the classroom and avoid hurt feelings, assign each student a number in the beginning of the school year. Put each students number on a Popsicle stick, and use these sticks to choose helpers, line leaders or when you need to call on someone for an answer. These sticks can also be used with your behavior management chart. Traffic Control This classic behavior modification system has proven to work in elementary classrooms. All you need to do is make a traffic light on the bulletin board  and place the students names or numbers (use the number sticks from the idea above) in the green section of the light. Then, as you monitor the students behavior throughout the day, place their name or number under the appropriately-colored section. For instance, if a student becomes disruptive, give them a warning and place their name on the yellow light. If this behavior continues, place their name on the red light and either call home or write a letter to the parent. It’s a simple concept that the students seem to understand, and once they go on yellow light, that is usually enough to turn their behavior around. Keep Quiet There are going to be times when you receive a phone call or another teacher needs your assistance. But, how do you keep the students quiet while attending to your priority? Thats easy; just make a bet with them! If they can stay quite without you asking them, and for the whole time youre busy with your task, then they win. You can bet extra free time, a pizza party, or other fun rewards.   Prize Incentive To help promote good behavior throughout the day, try a prize box incentive. If a student wants a chance at picking from the prize box at the end of the day they must†¦(stay on green light, hand in homework assignments, complete tasks throughout the day, etc.) At the end of each day, award the students that had good behavior and/or completed the task assigned. Prize Ideas: SuckersCandyPencilsErasersBraceletsStampsStickersAny small trinket Stick and Save A great way to motivate students to keep on track and reward for good behavior is to use sticky notes. Every time you see a student displaying good behavior, place a sticky note in the corner of their desk. At the end of the day, each student can turn in their sticky notes for a reward. This strategy works best during transitions. Simply place a sticky note on the desk of the first person who is ready for the lesson to eliminate wasted time in between lessons. Looking for more information? Try a behavior management clip chart, or learn the 5 tools to manage young learners.

The Ins Outs of Corporate Ghostwriting

The Ins Outs of Corporate Ghostwriting While I’m known as a journalist, writer and editor, I’ve also done a lot of corporate ghostwriting behind the scenes. It’s a potentially lucrative market for writers who don’t mind skipping the Defining Corporate Ghostwriting â€Å"Corporate ghostwriting† can include website content (blog posts or static pages), press releases, articles for print, advertorials and even inter-office letters. You are hired to turn source material – gathered through interviews, researched or sent Finding Clients through Referrals The key is contacts. Most of my corporate jobs were referrals – from previous clients, referrals or people I’d previously interviewed who needed something written. Build a library of writing clips and get to know your editors; sometimes sources will also pass on a good lead – but you have to ask, or nobody will know you’re looking. Job Boards When not referrals, clients are often hiding on job boards, message boards, forums, and newsletters.  MediaBistro, All Indie Writers, ProBlogger, Freelance Writing, Writers’ Job Board, Craigslist, Indeed and Journalism Jobs are some up-to-date ones that I’ve met clients on. Other times, cold pitch a company Corporate Language Publications have style guidelines, and every company has their own style and tone. Research your company and interviewee (especially when you have to copy their voice as the Draft to Publication Always send a draft for approval to your client once you are done writing it. Be prepared to edit and discuss changes. Then, make sure they sign off happily on the final draft before anything goes off for publication – say, a press release to a media house. Corporate ghostwriting sometimes needs to happen quickly. Corporate Schedules Corporate clients are often extremely busy. Learn to keep interviews and appointments short. Always schedule ahead of time and never miss an appointment – but also be willing to reschedule if they have a last-minute schedule change. Your Own Image Yes, people care about your image even when you are ghostwriting – clients will check out your website and other works. If you write erotic elf-fiction, keep it separate from the â€Å"corporate† side of your site. Don’t slam clients – or anyone who might be their shareholders – on social media. (Yes, this means sometimes you have to Google it.) Reputation is everything. Confidentiality as a Ghost Ghostwriting occasionally involves sensitive information – things not yet available to the public, or information from the caverns of the corporate offices. Keep it confidential and remember that you’re the ghost in ghostwriting. Ask clients for referrals, but keep secrets secret and don’t tell everyone, â€Å"I wrote that!†

How Can the Photographers Prevent Illegal Publishing of Their Phostos Essay

How Can the Photographers Prevent Illegal Publishing of Their Phostos In the Internet - Essay Example This essay stresses that in the modern world, with the advances of the technology, the infringement of copyright law is taking place not only in the real life but in the World Wide Web as well. In comparison with the real life, where infringing materials can be destroyed and their authors punished, the internet cannot be shut down. Therefore, it is often used for illegal purposes. The materials infringed can be of various characters: be it musical files, films, sound recording or photographs. This research paper will focus on one type of the works, namely works of photographers. This paper makes a conclusion that the study will, therefore, elaborate the copyright law on infringement in different countries and the loopholes attached with it. The different types of infringements will be discussed in the paper. For instance, Primary infringement stands for ‘the copying of a work, making available to the public and adaptation of it’ and secondary infringement involves ‘dealings with infringing copies through acts of importation, sale, or other distribution’. There are a number of stock photo companies on the internet and significantly, a good number of people have been fined for copying and using the photographs from the web without buying them. Earlier researches are also a proof of it. Despite such fines and checks, the illegal usage of images, designs and text goes unabated. This report has looked at the illegal publishing of photos on the internet and the problems that authors of those photos often have to deal with.