College applications are a horrible agony no one should suffer once — let alone eight to 10 times, as many of today’s high school students do. But for every tortured student, there’s a tortured admissions professional, sifting through an entire forest of paper, looking for an essay that doesn’t scream with gimmick. If you’re struggling to write a decent application essay, research writing tips before you get started.
Otherwise, just avoid these terrible examples.
The Cringe-Inducing Metaphor Essay
College applicants abuse metaphor like a piñata. With oddly passionate exposition, they describe the fine qualities of random nothings: roller coasters, beanbag chairs, Chunky Monkey ice cream, Taylor Swift’s new album, the McRib sandwich and their grandmother’s knitting basket. This goes on for three to five paragraphs. Then, in a stunning conclusion, the essay reveals that all along -– all along! -– the object has been a parallelism to the applicant’s own character and disposition. Fascinating? Not so much. Even if you firmly believe your best traits align with those of a socket wrench, force yourself to express this gift in some another way.
The Reformed Convict Essay
This is a favorite for students with marginal grades and a sudden interest in college, based on their parents’ promise of a new car upon acceptance. Having been raised to value honesty, but never actually having practiced much, these students wrongly assume that a full-blown confession (drinking, drugs, probation for stealing neighborhood lawn gnomes) will neutralize a high school transcript full of C’s. But unless Junior’s parents can afford that new car AND Sucker University’s full tuition price, a repentant college essay based on lessons learned from “sexting” probably won’t make it into the yes pile.
The Mother Teresa Essay
Only slightly more annoying than the Reformed Convict Essay is the exaggerated, volunteer contribution essay. Sure, some student volunteers really do amazing things in their communities. But the vast majority spend half a Saturday playing with the cute dogs (not the ones with the drippy eye infections) at the local shelter, then use the experience to impress colleges with their heroism. Smile Train is a wonderful organization, but you didn’t build any train; you stood outside of White Hen, collecting change in coffee can. Get real.
The “Wizard of Oz” Essay
This is the essay that state schools receive from good students who are all tuckered out after writing serious essays for the colleges they actually want to attend. Luckily, since these students have spent two years touring bigger, fancier schools in faraway places, they can fall back on some patch of truth, as they chronicle the adventure of their college selection process. In the end, they’ll say they realize, everything they need is waiting in their own backyard. It’s as sweetly phony as a Sarah Palin wink. But what the hell? It’s called “safety school” for a reason.
The” Jersey Shore” Essay
This is the one where students are asked to discuss a person they admire. And about 5,000 wise alecks think they’re being ironic –- not to mention incredibly original -– by citing Mike the Situation, or the Kardashian sisters or some other walking punch line. They might expect that admissions committees, like their 11th grade English teachers, will swoon over their thoughtful use of topic sentences and supporting arguments, while ignoring the fact that Mike the Situation is a schmuck. But this is not a good tactic. Especially if you’re applying to college in New Jersey, where The Situation has probably jilted a fair percentage of female admissions committee members.
The Dead Dog Essay
It doesn’t always have to be a dog. Sometimes it’s a goldfish. Sometimes it’s a hamster. Sometimes it’s a Great Uncle Albert. This is the essay that pits life against death, in an effort to exemplify growth, or courage or triumph of spirit. I know this advice seems unfair (if I can’t write about my court-ordered probation and I can’t write about Snowflake’s funeral, how am I supposed to illustrate growth?) But dead dog essays rarely deliver the kind of William Wallace, face-paint-speech punch that their authors intend.
The Free Verse Essay
Despite thinking themselves wise to the pitfall of gimmicks, the perpetrators of the Free Verse Essay lapse into the most gimmicky mistake possible. They ignore the rules. They are, after all, tomorrow’s artists, lawyers and revolutionaries. Instead of three pages, they write three words. Instead of an essay, they write a poem. They write entirely in acronyms, as a commentary on society’s frayed, digital discourse. They use crayons, as a commentary on wax. Their reasons are their own. And so too is their unplanned gap year.
By Liz O’Neill
