How to PLAN a STORY for EVERY Exam Board

[@mokipoki2441]

This was an absolutely hilarious way to revise - thank you!

[@lukacastyellan3882]

I got a 9 in English literature thanks to your videos! thank you so much

[@MrSallesTeachesEnglish]

That's great! Happy Christmas 🎄

[@-fantasy-5422]

YOU HELPED ME SO SO SO MUCHHHHH I GOT A 3 IN MY YR10 MOCK FOR ENGLISH LIT AND NOW I GOT A GRADE 8 IN ENGLISH LITT FOR MY YR11 MOCK THANK YOUU ❤

[@MrSmile_Fish]

Cheers salles, helped my friends and I get a grade 8 in the mocks 😁

[@Wajihah-w1z]

Hi I was wondering if it was possible if you could analyse the text much ado about nothing as my school is not very helpful

[@phantom4ever13]

Mr salles I got a 6 in my mock!! Thank you so much!!! I'm aiming for a 7 or 8

[@MrSallesTeachesEnglish]

Keep it up

[@phantom4ever13]

​@@MrSallesTeachesEnglishThank you!!

[@Poinky161]

Just want to say this guy saved my exams, I failed the mocks and did well in the real thing. You people should stick with him.

[@won-f1b]

Can you predict 2025's exam for Inspector Calls, Macbeth, Christmas Carol and Power Conflict please?

[@InfinityPoint27]

Sir, please can you make a video about the top quotes for Great Expectations for the English Lit 19th Century novel.

[@esqbao]

Thank you

[@Gatherleymodeller.]

I just got a 6 in my mock 😭😭

[@zazafairy]

Im AIMING for a 6 rn 😥

[@alisa-k6z]

nice example

[@MaryamSufian-nr5fy]

Hi Mr Salles, You are literally carrying my English grade...Could you carry my English one as well by making a video on IGCSE Eng lang?

[@luislol-bf5tv]

MR SALLES!!! would you be able to do A level english literature videos? everyone i have spoke to says they love your gcse videos but they would like A level english videos!!

[@SarahStrah]

Hi Mr Salles! I used your advice and took bits and pieces from some of my faveourite books to create a better story and character voice. I then asked chatgpt to give me a prompt, which was: Write a story with the title 'The Stranger'. If you have any feedback it would be much appreciated. I also used some British slang (first paragraph) because it fit the story, but I'm not sure if it draws away from the story or if the examiners would find it appropriate. The Stranger I, Penelope Evans, snot-nosed back scratcher of the slums, street rat, thievin’ dirtbag, little oik, git, wanker, and all the other British derogatives had topped my list of untoppable feats . . . There was the crib-cracking in the East end, that time I had skewered a guard with his own stick, and a delightful encounter with some grave robbers last Monday which, though dreadfully dirty, did end in a nice penny and a bag of chestnuts for me. All were perfectly acceptable and very nearly, but not completely, life threatening forms of occupation for a thief like me, and I was very proud of them. But now, I had got (or rather, ventured on my own account) into a rather sticky situation. Imagine it - metaphorically if you will - I am practically drowning in the glutinous treacle-like texture of it all. It’s on my feet, my hands, my legs, all groping up my nose and my eyes and my lips. Not a pretty affair. In reality, I was sitting (tied up, actually) in a wooden chair in the middle of a stage in what looked to be an auction room. There was blood on my chin. I could taste it in my mouth. I was not sure if it was mine. But nevermind! Death is never really that interesting unless you’re the one doing the killing. So, I suppose I’d better start from the beginning - what I remember of it all anyway. It began with The Stranger. Everyone called him that, whispering it like a bad omen down the slums and alleyways and even up the pipes. For the high folk, he was a name laughed upon in the newspapers, a bumbling lie created by the poor to turn away from their misery. They didn’t realise that any leads there might’ve been were dead. Killed. Slaughtered like a pig on Christmas Eve. I knew that he was an auctioneer who dealt with black goods and had a blacker heart. I knew he wore leather gloves and walked with an iron cane with a crow on its head. I knew he had eyes like the living but skin like the dead. I know all this because I saw him, not long ago, perhaps last month, when I stole one of his greatest possessions from behind his back. Quite stupid of me, really. On a more positive note, my head had also stopped throbbing. Now I needed to find a way to get out of here, and hopefully inflict some serious injury on this stranger fellow before he sold me for body parts. Perhaps kick him in the shin? Or better yet, snare him with his own rope? I could always go the professional route with a knife if things got sticky. The ropes, however, were not cooperating, rubbing my skin raw. I tugged desperately - left, right - no use! Then I groped about with my fingers, fingering the knot lovingly, kindly, pleadingly . . . Finally, some movement. I twisted and pulled a hand out, then the other. There was thrill in my movements, pulled taut by my muscles as I stood up, waiting for something to happen. Shouting, bright lights, applause: I expected something. Surely the great and powerful Stranger was not so cheap? And yet I was already whooping, leaping around the stage with my arms in the air, revelling in my dastardly escape. Snot-nosed back scratcher of the alleys I was no longer. I was more than that, I was a hero, a triumph, a face worth plastering on the daily news - Then behind me, there came a low clapping. Slow, steady, a heavy sound growing in power and intensity. I turned around to see faces and faces, an invisible audience now lit up by faint candlelight. Above them all, a slender figure wearing black gloves and a silver crow cane flourished his hands dramatically. My dance of glory stiffened then fell. Was it too late to kill him now? “See, ladies and gentlemen and all you other folk. I promised you an offer you could not refuse! The best thief money could buy!” And he turned around with a grim, expectant smile on his face to bring the child into view. But the little oik, git, wanker, and all the other British derogatives of a girl had already slipped through the cracks and was gone.

[@MrSallesTeachesEnglish]

You would just about get away with the language - by you probably don't need all if it, especially for a girl. The story is nearly brilliant - it is not clear why this is happening. "to bring the child into view" also doesn't really make sense - you might mean the narrator, but as it is in first person, this cannot work. And also, this child is on stage totally in view all the way through. Finally, why would it be too late to kill him - and is this something a child thief would do? So, the moment is handled brilliantly, but the cause and effect, the plot, is confusing. Rewrite it and I'll grade it on my Substack.

[@SarahStrah]

​@@MrSallesTeachesEnglish Thank you for your advice Mr Salles - I can definitely see how it ended up being confusing. I've tried to rewrite it the best I can, though I struggled to come up with a unique ending. The Stranger I, Penelope Evans, snot-nosed back scratcher of the slums, street rat, thievin’ dirtbag, little oik, git, wanker and all the other British derogatives had topped my list of untoppable feats . . . There was the crib-cracking in the East End, that time I had skewered a guard with his own stick, a delightful encounter with some grave robbers last Monday which, though dreadfully dirty, did end in a nice penny and a bag of chestnuts for me. All were perfectly acceptable and very nearly, but not completely, life threatening forms of occupation for a thief like me, and I was very proud of them. But now, I had got (or rather, ventured on my own account) into a rather sticky situation. Imagine it - metaphorically if you will - I am practically drowning in the treacle-like texture of it all. It’s on my feet, my hands, my legs, all groping up my nose and my eyes and my lips. Not a pretty affair. In reality, I was sitting (tied up, actually) in a wooden chair in a dark, empty room. There was blood on my chin. I could taste it in my mouth. I was not sure if it was mine. But nevermind! Death is never really that interesting unless you’re the one doing the killing. So, I suppose I’d better start from the beginning - what I remember of it all anyway. It began with The Stranger. Everyone called him that, whispering it like a bad omen down the slums and alleyways and even up the pipes. For the high folk, he was a name laughed upon in the newspapers, a bumbling lie created by the poor to turn away from their misery. They didn’t realise that any leads there might’ve been were dead. Killed. Slaughtered like a pig on Christmas Eve. I knew that he was an auctioneer who dealt with black goods and had a blacker heart. I knew he wore leather gloves and walked with an iron cane with a crow on its head. I knew he had eyes like the living but skin like the dead. I know all this because I saw him, not long ago, perhaps last month, when I stole one of his greatest possessions from behind his back. The question was, then, what did The Stranger want? Body parts, perhaps? His stolen goods? Or maybe, I thought, with a weird feeling in my belly, revenge. I needed to scarper - quickly. The ropes, however, were not cooperating, rubbing my skin raw. I tugged desperately - left, right - no use! Were those footsteps nearby? No time to think. I groped about with my fingers, caressing the knot lovingly, kindly, pleadingly . . . Finally, some movement. I twisted and pulled a hand out, then the other. There was thrill in my movements, pulled taut by my muscles as I stood up, waiting for something to happen. Shouting, bright lights, applause: I expected something. Anything would have been better than the painful sound of my footsteps padding across the room as I slowly realised the horrible truth. I was not alone.

[@MrSallesTeachesEnglish]

That's very funny. I felt guilty because it was only really the last paragraph you needed to change and I didn't make that clear! So you just got rid of it. I'll put it on my Substack for you, with some comments.

[@SarahStrah]

@ Thank you! I'll be sure to check it out

[@SarahStrah]

@@MrSallesTeachesEnglish Hey Mr Salles! I read your Substack post and found it very helpful. I just wanted to say thank you for all your advice and taking the time to reply to your comments (most youtubers don't seem to do that!) I love English and always want to improve, and watching your videos and buying your guides took my skill to another level. I also recommended you to my friends!

[@smitapandya-z8b]

Hi can you do some of the eduqas literature poems. Such as sonnet 43, valentine, cozy apologia, the soldier, manhunt, death of a naturalist, to autumn, hawke roosting

[@juipyer]

SIR CAN YOUU PLEASE START MAKING A LEVEL CONTENT ASWELL??? LIKE A GREAT GATSBY AND A STREETCAR?? PLEASE

[@yasinslashedyourfather]

Is this English language ot English literature and if so what exam board

[@adamdevlin9342]

is it possible if you could start doing edexcel 2.0 videos. It is ok if you don't want to

[@cultishh]

my goat mr salles please make edexcel a level literature videos

[@unjagged29]

My exuberant potential is tarnishing with the exiguous tips lying on the side of a book. The most endearing quality for me would be for you to guide me through this poignant dungeon -also baptised Cambridge IGCSE-. I meander through these piles of past papers, that are butted against the wall, with the dexterity of a master player shuffling cards, but each time my forlorn heap of tricks causes me to be obliterated. What can I do? Time is not a humble partner. After being meek in the classroom, these English exams just utter my volatile situation through a jeering sound as the page flails through the dry air. Even after veering through several resources, my position is hopeless and I can not crack the code to it. It would be the demise of me; it would be the demise of my hopes and it would be the demise of my dream of gleaming A*. Could I succeed in English? 'No' my ears buzz and what I believed to be my strength is unfortunately the malevolent hurdle to my future endeavours.

[@jonathan9100]

Shush

[@charlie7715-u8c]

Hi, MR SALLES! Genuine question - who would WIN in a fight to the DEATH: Macbeth, or Macduff? 🤔🤔⚔

[@MrSallesTeachesEnglish]

I think the play works best if we know Macbeth would win, but he decides to bring about his fated death

[@charlie7715-u8c]

@@MrSallesTeachesEnglish Interesting, however Macbeth in his prime at the start of the play would make it an intense yet unpredictable match with Macduff...perhaps Banquo would be a good competitor against Macbeth?

[@Lifeofamirr]

Mr Salles! I achieved a 9 9 thanks to you with full marks in English lit. However, I achieved 18/40 on paper 2 question 5 and I used all the tips in your guide. I believe I wasn’t marked correctly. Can I send my response to you and you can use it how you like?

[@MrSallesTeachesEnglish]

Sure thing

[@Lifeofamirr]

@@MrSallesTeachesEnglishwhere do I send it? Cant find an email. Hope you had a good Christmas !

[@kovidmaniktalia2870]

what did u do to get a 9

[@albertweiner7946]

sir when you going pakistan with mr everything english i thought u were going in february

[@Suryanshu-c2g]

Hi Mr Salles, can I send you an essay to mark please?

[@MohammedAkif-d1j]

Why do you have a cooking spatula? 😂

[@itzmestevo]

He cooks that’s why

[@MohammedAkif-d1j]

@@itzmestevo Makes sense now. Let him cook!!!

[@BookThief_SP]

Hi Sir, Hope you are well I am so sorry to disturb you but I currently in year 10 I am looking for anyone who can teach short stories anthology AQA for english literature paper 2 and these are the topics: 1 ‘Chemistry’ - Graham Swift 2 ‘Odour of Chrysanthemums’ - D.H. Lawrence 3 ‘My Polish Teacher’s Tie’ - Helen Dunmore 4 ‘Korea’ - John McGahern 5 ‘A Family Supper’ - Kazuo Ishiguro 6 ‘Invisible Mass of the Back Row’ - Claudette Williams 7 ‘The Darkness Out There’ - Penelope Lively Can you be able to teach me how to analysis or can you find anyone who has done short stories anthology and can they teach me how to revise or even find a good website that does short stories anthology AQA and which quotes did they find it more important. Again, sorry to disturb you. Thank you for your help.🙂