When I posted my journal replica online this weekend, I never expected it would get so many positive reactions! I’m really flattered, thank you all so much!
Now of course I promised a tutorial, so here goes. I hope I will be able to explain things well enough with the pictures I’ve taken. If you still have questions regarding the journal, feel free to ask.
For the people who haven’t seen the pictures yet, this is the journal I will try to talk you through making:
I’m putting the rest under a read more, because this post is pretty long.
like the post says, there will be an instagram live, possibly with onew and rocoberry soon! there is no information regarding what exactly is going to happen during the live or when it will take place. make sure to follow @smtownstation on instagram (linked above) and enable notifications for their account to make sure you don’t miss it!
Somewhere in Skellige Ciri and Geralt took a strange contract; a beast who kills folks (especially naughty ones), appears only around Yuletide and its name is Krampus. Saint Nicholas day is coming (6th December) and no Krampus this year… for specific reasons but still.. try to be nice :))) Make sure you shine your boots and put out in the window so Saint Nicholas can leave something nice for you. ;)
My questions pertains to the pen and paper/tabletop DMing, as, from what I'm aware, you have quite a bit of experience playing that role. -If you don't mind me asking, how do you get your player group genuinely immersed in the roleplay aspect? Many of my players seem to either have paralyzing stage-fright (something I can certainly empathize with) or create intentionally disruptive characters with the intent purpose of trolling the rest of the group. I'm unsure as to how to handle this. -A
Hi! Yeah, I’ve started DMing a weekly D&D 5e group for my friends (Breeh, Ravs, Duncan, Fiona and Zoey) recently, and everyone is having a great time. So that must mean I’m doing something right.
First of all, there’s an easy way to stop the disruptive troll characters: Tell them to stop. If the way they are playing is causing you and other players not to have fun, they have to stop. If they won’t change their disruptive playstyle, then you don’t play with them anymore. This is a social problem really, and it has to be solved out of the game - by talking to them, and if that doesn’t work, just not playing with them anymore.
As for the people who have stage fright, or don’t always play it as immersed or engaged in the roleplay as you want: don’t worry about it. The worst thing you can do is try to force them into doing something they don’t really want. If they prefer taking a more backseat role in your group, joining in on the groups adventures, doing their combat, a couple of skill checks, then that’s totally cool. Make sure you give them opportunities and moments where they CAN RP and shine and explore and evolve their character a bit, but don’t force it. Let them make that decision if they want to. Encourage it, don’t expect it.
Finally, as I feel the video would be perfect for this question, let me link you Matt Colville’s video on different types of D&D players. Matt Colville has taught me a lot of what little I know of DMing, and I recommend his series Running the Game strongly. Here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQsJSqn71Fw
The dense rainfall outsides pours down, hitting the hotel window, causing your little one to stir and begin to wail at the abrupt disturbance. You with great care pick her up from the hotel cot, soothing her as you rub her back. Since the eleven hour flight from London to Las Angeles, she’s been to some extent grumpy and hasn’t been sleeping for too long. You sigh, sitting down on the bed, keeping her in your arms as your eyes move waveringly towards the television. At just two months old she has mastered the art of wailing and being an excessively light sleeper. “I know sweetheart, L.A isn’t like home, I know.” You say with a sigh, pressing her dummy (pacifier) to her small lips, her cries commencing to fade as she sucks on the dummy. Your eyes meet he the dress hanging against the hotel wardrobe, the lavishing black gown residing inside a coal-black bag. Tonight’s original plan was to atten he awards at the Staples Centre, accompanying your husbnd as he’s nominated for ‘best solo artist’ and a few other awards. With your two month old, being inordinately cranky and exhausting the two of you, you determined it was better to stay with your little girl and not have Liam baby sit her while he too is in Las Angeles, but for different reasons. Your eyes shine intermitently towards the television, your little girl cradled contently in your arms just as the ravishing interviewer reveals Harry.
“Here we have Harry Styles, nominated for four awards tonight. How does that feel?” She wears a smile, sticking to the particular opener question she’s probably reading from behind the camera. As customary harry gives an eminently modest and well-mannered response, adjusting his suit jacket, a small indication he’s slightly nervous. “Is your lovely missus back in London holding down the fort?” The young lady beams, handing the microphone back to Harry.
He shakes his head, “no, no, she’s here at the hotel, our little one wasn’t wanting to part ways with her so they’re at the hotel.” He discloses with a smile, a small glimmers to his eye as he’s probed about the love of his life,
“Ah, we are running out of time but your little girl is so precious, we’ve seen pictures, tell us, does she have your eyes?” She queries as others walk behind them, accessing the venue,
“She does not,” he shakes his head with a grin, “she has m’ wife’s, but she does this thing where she crinkles her nose with her smile and somewhat content responses, she definitely got that from me.” He gracefully broadcasts to everyone watching, unable to contain the beaming smile he’s wearing across his face. You can’t help but chuckle and look down at your little girl, her leaden-eyes gazing up at you while she continues to soundlessly suck her dummy. “Your Daddy basically said you’re the cutest thing in the world, yes he did.” You coo, leaning down and placing a small kiss to her warm, rosy cheek. You guardedly lay her beside you on the California king bed, rubbing her very little tummy as she wiggles her teensy legs and becomes comfortable, her eyes shining brilliantly at you to make sure you’re still beside her. You press another tender kiss to her forehead, admiring her beady eyes, long eye lashes, and her gummy smile. She batters her groggy eyes, yawning adorably, before closing her drowsy eyes. When they say you sleep when the baby sleeps, they definitely weren’t wrong.
Your eyes leisurely open as you overhear the hotel door opening and quietly closing, your husband emerging, his tie already undone and hanging around his neck, his suit jacket draped over his arm, “hey,” he talks in a whisper, taking note of his sleeping infant on the bed,
“Hey.” You whisper back, admiring his apparel. A man in a suit has always turned you on, but him more precisely in a suit with a tie hanging around his neck flat-ass kills you inside. “How’d it go?” You delicately question as he places his jacket down on the chair, he shrugs wearily, perhaps with a few glasses of alcohol in his system, “I won, how are you?” He graciously inquires, his eyes narrowing down on you,
“Congratulations, I’m tired. Shouldn’t you be at an after party? Celebrating and getting tipsy?” You smoothly chuckle, remembering the several other nights he has gotten drunk after events and found himself stumbling into the wrong limo. “I preferred to be with you.” He responds, walking closer to the bed as he unbuttons his shirt, allowing it to drop to the floor, exposing his tan skin and tattooed body. “Go and celebrate.” You gently press, not wanting him to miss out on all the fun. After all, you’re only going to sleep with the baby while he’s out, there’s not much fun in this hotel room. He shakes his head, declining your encouragement. “Please be careful, don’t wake her.” You instantly respond as he presses a hand to the bed, getting ready to climb on.
“I don’t intend to.” He assures you, with great care getting on the bed and lying beside her, carefully leaning over and placing a tender kiss to your lips, “if she wakes up you’re calming her.” You give fair warning, holding your breath as he conscientiously presses back down into the bed, being cautious of his light sleeping baby. “I’ll soothe her when she cries next.” He whispers, “do you know how many people asked about the two of you? It was almost as if they weren’t interested in me.” He playfully pouts his lips, not caring at all that people are curious about you and the baby. You’ve been under the radar since having the baby, not wanting to jump back into being thoroughly exposed to the world. So, when Harry is occasionally asked about the three of you, he proudly answers, more than delighted to brag about the newest family addition, and how you’re unconditionally astounding when it comes to the three in the morning bottle feeds that he dreads doing. “Well, I’m sure they’re just interested that Harry had a baby.” You crack a smile, admiring his drowsiness.
“No, darling. Correction; I did not have our baby, you did.” He chuckles adorably, the baby letting out a small grunt as she is sleeping,
“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, “so how many pictures did you show off?” You quaintly ask, knowing that there’s a high chance he proudly showed eager friends some exclusive pictures of the baby. You two have only publicly released three pictures, and there is bound to be at least a hundred pictures stored on Harry’s phone. “I showed a few to other artists.” He admits, “she’s just so lovely, I can’t help it.” He adds. You wear a smile, continuing to listen to all the events that happened at the awards while unhurriedly falling asleep with your daughter securely between you and Harry.
I hope the writing isn’t too small, full view/open in a new tab to zoom in!!
Some more tips:
If you want to improve just do lots of little studies!! Find pictures from different angles & with different lighting, and even better make strange faces in the mirror & shine a torch at your face!!
Make sure you take the entire face into consideration. When doing each stage of the drawing, eg. outline, dark areas, shading etc, I like to do each step for the entire drawing. That way I don’t end up spending an hour rendering the eyes before realising they need to be further apart to fit the nose. Instead it’s best to outline the whole thing and have it look right, walk away for a while, and then start shading - try to think of the face as a whole & make everything fit together rather than adding parts separately!
Use different darknesses of pencil - I mostly used 2B, and 6B for the darker areas - don’t be afraid to make the shadows dark!!
No matter what art style or medium, the same principles apply for structure! When doing a cartoon style I normally include the central line & outline around the areas that have the most volume, just a bit more simplified!
1. You are not the same as the others, you’d rather lose yourself in the countless worlds each book you read can send you to, than lose yourself in the noisy, exciting wildness of parties and that’s okay.
2. It is perfectly fine to become engrossed in the art you are creating, but make sure to take care of yourself. Get all of your meals in and exercise. I know your passion can be strong sometimes, but it’s not worth bad health.
3. They will call you weird and every other name in between that and antisocial. Don’t let it get to you. You are a minority in this universe, and that is simply all the more reason to make sure you continue to shine.
4. It’s okay to cancel plans. Find the people who will understand when you need your space and will be open to hanging out with you when you can or want to. With that being said, don’t always cancel plans either. These people are making time to enjoy you, let them.
5. Don’t be afraid to be quiet in a world that seems entirely too loud. You are who you are, and whether or not the world completely agrees with that is the world’s problem, not yours. Always be true to yourself.
Alright, so this is my first Feysand headcanon. So… take it easy on me okay, I know it’s not perfect.
Word Count: 2,718
I don’t know where this came from quite frankly but I hope you guys enjoy it!
Feyre’s point of view with Feysand fluff (NSFW)
I would love your feedback, so don’t be shy!
Bolting straight up in bed, the absence of warmth beside me
pulled me from my dream. I looked over at the empty side of the bed. My fingers
fumble for the sheet.
Cold –they were cold.
Rhysand must have been up for a while now. Nightmares had
been plaguing him for longer than either of us would like to admit.
After my feet find the cool floor and I pad across it to
where I had discarded Rhys’s shirt earlier in the evening, I throw it over my head.
The soft cotton fell to just above my knee –it smelled like him too, like us.
No matter how many times I lazily throw on his clothes, or how many nights I
spend hours unable to sleep just breathing in the scent of him, I would never
be able to get enough of it. It was intoxicating.
Our townhouse was dark, quiet. The others begrudgingly slept
in the House of Winds, refusing to let us sleep there because we have a
tendency to “keep other people besides ourselves up” as Cassian had put it.
I roll my eyes at the thought. My feet barley make any noise
as I ascend the staircase to the rooftop garden.
And he was sitting there, back to me, wings spread, as he
sat in a wrought iron chair. His dark hair was in a disheveled mess,
highlighted with gold from the lights of Velaris; and his skin was glowing as
he gazed out towards the sea, towards the stars that hung over it. His wings
–his glorious wings were spread leisurely over the arms of the chair.
My beautiful High Lord. I wanted to paint him like that.
Of course he didn’t put his shirt on, not that I minded
since I now wore it: but I don’t know how he did it. As I stepped out onto the
stone, the chilled night air hit me like a brick wall and made me shiver. My
body protested, demanding I head straight back inside and burrow myself under
the blankets of our warm, cozy bed.
I walked over cautiously. It was a very rare occasion to
catch him so lost in thought. He must have sensed me as I was right behind him
because he was not surprised as I draped my arms over his broad shoulders.
My lips left a trail of kisses over his shoulder as he said. “Feyre, darling,
you should be sleeping.”
“So should you,” I countered. I peered at him as I made to
rest my chin on my arm.
A ragged sigh escaped my mate’s lips. “I needed air,” he
said simply. I needed to see the stars to
make sure they were still shining, he seemed to say.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly. A slight shake
of his head.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I rasp. I still want to go back to
bed. We both knew that wasn’t happening until he came with me.
“Because you looked too peaceful for me to wake you. Plus, I
just love seeing you in my clothes.” He made the attempt to lighten the mood
but the humor failed to reach his eyes.
I sighed through my nose. I knew he wanted some time alone,
to think. To make sure that everything was still fine.
We sit in silence for a while, I look at Rhys while he looks
out over the city.
He finally turns to meet my eyes. The pain that lingered
there, the worry, it was enough to cleave my heart in two.
“Will you come back to bed?” I ask softly.
He shook his head, “No, but will you come fly with me?”
Of course of course
he wanted to go and fly. The sky was his sanctuary just as his arms were mine. A smile breaks across my lips. “Only if you
get me some pants. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing the little lacy things I
bought only for you,” I say, hoping to get a smile from you.
It worked because it made him, take a generous look down my
body as he stood, snapped his fingers and then had a pair of my leggings draped
over his forearm.
He hands then to me with a mischievous smile.
I barley even had them on before he scooped me into his arms
and took a running leap off the roof. His wings snapped open and propelled us
out over the city.
I laugh at the sensation, the fear of him dropping me faded
just as heights had. I kept my arms around his neck, my fingers buried in the
back of his hair. Every so often, when I would find his eyes on me instead of
the city lights below us, I would kiss him, and I swear his wings would flatter
We stayed in the vicinity of Velaris, circling the city from
both high and low. Banking and swerving with the wind.
“A thought for a thought?” I ask finally, breaking the comfortable
silence between us.
His eyes flick to mine. “I’m thinking that I will never stop
being thankful for you being my mate. Because you know when I need to talk and
don’t push me when I’m dwelling on bad thoughts. And I’m thinking that you are the
only person that can bring me back and make me happy. You are my starlight
during the darkness nights.”
“Not your moon?”
“No, my stars. The stars are always shinning. But the moon,
even the moon isn’t there for me sometimes,” he says. His eyes train on me and
my heart swells with love for the male who now carries me.
My mate. My perfect beautiful mate.
“Your turn,” he says as he swoops high enough for us to see
the glint of the crescent moon over the Sidra.
The clean mountain air fills my lungs. “I’m thinking that I
love you. And I will pull you from the darkness whenever it tries take hold on
you. And I’m also thinking that you should put a shirt on, even though I love
to see you without one. And now that you bring it up I would gladly be your
stars over your moon.” I say and grin. I lean over, my lips close enough to
graze down the side of his throat.
The slight groan that comes from his is ripped away by the
wind. And just like that I wanted him again. I wanted him, and I wanted to
offer him a distraction so he wouldn’t reel back into himself.
“I’ll never wear a shirt again if it makes you happy. I like
them better on you anyway.” I can feel his fingers tighten around my waist. Oh,
I was going to tease the hell out of him while we were up here.
“Do you? I prefer to see them on the floor,” I murmur into his ear. My teeth
nip at his earlobe.
“You really want me to drop you tonight, don’t you?” he
asks, his eyes finally gleaming with amusement, with lust.
“I want you to do a lot of things actually, none of which involve
clothes –all of which involve one of us sprawled across the bed, or the floor,
or the wall.”
I allow myself to keep one hand braced around his shoulder
while the other idly strokes the top of his wings.
“Oh I am going to have you moaning my name so loudly, all of
Velaris will hear us,” he grits out, teeth clenched.
I run my fingertips down the silken membranes near where his
wings meets his back and I feel his harden against my side. A smile breaks
across my lips.
“Oh Rhysand, darling, I don’t believe you. And I don’t think
Cassian would appreciate the noise anyway. You know how he is,” I challenge
“All the more reason to do it then.”
I look up at him through my lashes to see the strained, ravenous
look in his eyes. It was etched all over his face. Like he was trying his best
to reel himself in before we got home.
All it took was a kiss –all it took was my tongue brushing
the seam of his lips and he winnowed back to our bedroom.
I jumped out of Rhys’s arms before he hand a chance to set me
down and pin me to the sheets.
Rhys took a step towards me but I winnowed behind him. My hands
skimming his wings had him stopped dead in his tracks.
“Feyre,” he barked my name my hands grazed the sensitive spot
near the joints.
“Stop being such a sensitive Illyiran,” I coo against the
skin of his back. It was easy to get a reaction from him as I leave a trail of
kisses down his spine. One of my hands reaches around his waist and I palm him
through his pants.
A hiss escapes him, the bulge twitching as I twist him and push
him back onto the bed.
A wicked grin crosses his lips, the glorious muscles of his
chest and abdomen laid out before me.
I crawl over him, a hand continuously stroking him through
the thin cotton as I press a kiss to his jaw, to his throat, his collarbone. My
teeth graze the skin of the muscle between his shoulder and neck and I bite
down on it. The groan that comes from him has me smiling as I pull back kissing
the same spot. A bruise already forming on his skin.
He thought I was torturing him. I know because his breath was ragged by the
time I got down on my knees between his legs. I gaze up at him as I remove his
pants and he springs free. His head was tilted back against the bed.
The moment my mouth touches him he is undone. His fingers
tangling in my hair as I slide my tongue across the entirety of him. I try to
fit all of him in my mouth but I can’t and take the rest of him with my hands. Up
and down, up and down I move on him.
“Feyre, please,” he groans.
Rhysand has only every begged me a few times, enough for me
to count on my fingers. I’m glad I can add another finger to that now.
I keep doing and going, twisting my lips over him, flicking
my tongue over the head of him before he bolts up, picks me up by the waist and
claim my lips, tasting himself on me.
His strong arms set me down with a gentleness that only he
knows I appreciate. “Why you’re still fully clothed is beyond me,” he breathes.
Just like that my shirt is gone, and his hands are kneading
my breasts between his fingers. He twists and tugs until my nipples are hard
and peaked. A moan ripples through me as I shiver.
Rhys’s eyes bore into
me like he’s waiting for me to ask him.
“Rhysand,” his name escapes me. The heat pooling in my core
makes my whole body tremble.
“I’m sorry what was that?” he growls. His lips traveling
like a wave of hot pleasure moving across my skin. He takes his time on my
neck, leaving countless marks as retribution for the one I left on him.
And then he finds my breasts, and he sucks and nibbles on
them in a way that has me moaning his name again.
He trails lower, his wings spreading as he kneels before me.
Kneels on those tattoos that he knows I love.
I lift my head to look at him and he hooks his kisses me
through the fabric of my leggings.
“Rhys,” I moan, wanting him so badly my legs started
The smile he gives me is a lust filled one that sets my instincts
on edge. He hooks his fingers around the elastic at my waist and yanks it down
and off in one swift motion.
The way he spreads my legs for him and the glint in his eyes
makes it look like he’s about to feast on me…not that I minded. But my blood thrums
through my veins and I can’t do anything but wait for him.
My head falls back onto the bed; I can still see him as he
lifts his head and brings kisses the inside of my knee. Then lower, lower,
lower. Just when I think he’s going to unleash himself upon me, soothe the ache
I have in that bundle of nerves, he brings his lips to my other knee and goes painfully
slow. Down and down and down.
When his tongue finally dips between my center and I moan so
loudly that I bite down on my lower lip to halt it.
Rhys brings both of his hands up, his arms on either side of
my hips as he massages my breasts again.
He works me thoroughly, so thoroughly that I go over the
edge twice. Both times his name on my lips like a prayer to the Mother.
He rises and hovers over me on an elbow as he gazes down at
“Look at how you lovely glow,” he whispers, love lining his voice as he gravelly
I smile at him, my fingers reaching up and cupping his cheek
as I bring my lips to his.
“I love you Rhysand,” I murmur.
“I love you, Feyre” he whispers back.
And with that he nudged my legs apart and slide so far into
me that I bite down on his shoulder to keep myself from being too loud. Rhys
goes in deeper and deeper until he can’t anymore.
The growl he releases make my head roll back. His arms slide
under me and pulls my body against his until we are flush together.
He pulls out and thrusts back in torturously slow. He was
going to take it slow, and I was going to let him; that doesn’t mean I still
didn’t squirm under him. My nails dig into his shoulders, adding to the mark I left
on his throat.
When he looks down into my eyes I can’t see anything other
than love. The violets of his eyes holding so much more than he had to say at
My hips meet his slow and tedious rhythm. At the last moment
he bucks his hips up, thrusting into me with a force that made my lips open in
a silent gasp.
His name was lost on my lips.
Rhysand. This male above me. My mate. The love of my life.
I could see it then, the darkness that was curling around
us, the control slipping from him as he pulled out and pushed himself back in.
There were no stars in his darkness tonight. It almost broke my heart.
I loved him too much, he made me too happy to be dwelling I his
own darkness. I wanted to make him happy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. I
wanted to make him as happy as he made me.
When I open my eyes I see his smile. A glow –my glow –shines
through his darkness.
“Feyre,” he groans.
I was so close, so close. And the sound of my name on his
lips was my undoing.
“Rhysand,” I cry out. My whole body tensing as my climax
rips through me.
A few more strokes and Rhys jumped over the edge with me. My
name on his lips, my body cradled in his arms.
Her skin was still glowing as she laid next to me. Her head
on my chest.
“I’m disappointed in myself. You weren’t as loud as I could
have made you,” I rasp.
Her eyes flick to me, those gray pools of happiness landing
I felt a spark in my chest, a wave of joy settling over my
Feyre. She was my salvation. She was my sun. She was my
stars in the darkness night.
Feyre was the missing half of my soul that I didn’t know I
was missing until I found her. And I don’t
think I could ever be happier.
“Don’t be a prick,” she muttered, sleep muffling her words.
Today is 31st January again, and I hate the sound
of it. One of those days when I am dusting our pictures again just to make sure
that your eyes shine bright like always. I can tell you I had a nice day but
you know I would never lie to you. I miss you, as always. I miss the way looked
at me with those eyes. I miss the way you never believed that I need to scream
my guts out to make you listen. I loved the way you found my silence loud
enough to know what I went through. I miss that. I miss everything we had. I miss you.
Years are passing by, it’s again that date when I didn’t
show up to bid you goodbye. You know I couldn’t do it. You know how much I
dread at goodbyes. It’s never my thing. It could never be if that concerns you. And I could never have our last
meeting as you leaving for heaven. Coz with us it’s never goodbye, it’s always see you
soon. And I miss you. here, now.
I still sit in the backyard in our special place, staring at
stars, hoping to see you somewhere. You would have grown more beautiful with those
wings and all. I miss your comforting caresses every time I wake up from
nightmares. I miss feigning sleep just to hear you talk to me thinking I was
asleep. I hate myself for not telling you how much I loved you. I hate myself
for not hugging you when we last met. I hate myself to some extent for not
coming when you left coz I was not in a position to see you in a way you won’t
open your eyes for me.
I hate all those people who assume you are dead. You aren’t.
They don’t know anything. You are there. I can feel you, I talk to you always,
I write you, letters, poems everything you loved. I miss the way you used to
read my poems no matter how crappy they were. I miss those times when you
secretly took some of my poems and hid it in your pocket just coz you loved
them too much. I have been sending you mails as always. I hope you would check
it someday. I hope you know I still have your favorite tune as my ringtone. It
just doesn’t ring anymore. I miss that. I
This place is so quiet without you, lonely and all blue.
Nothing feels good. I still go the garden and sit on that same swing next to
your empty one. I don’t like ice cream now that we don’t share it. I hope you
would read this someday. I hope you know how much it sucks to be alone here. I just miss you.
I hope heaven is treating you well. I know you are chilling
there with my grandma. I hope you would have made lots of friends there. You would
have met great people even. I hope you are happy.
But Pooh Bear 2, deep down I still wish that you miss me,
someday in the middle of the night wondering if I would have woke up from
nightmare, I hope you are watching me from up there, I know you are, you always
did. And I hope I am still your favorite
writer. I hope I am not forgotten. Because you aren’t. You never will be. I miss you. A lot.
With lots of love that
somehow isn’t reaching you,
With only 4000 characters and 47 lines allotted to you to persuade medical schools why you will make the ideal medical student and future doctor, the personal statement can be a daunting task. However, armed with thorough research and all of the skills and experiences that you’ve picked up along the way on your journey to medical school, articulating yourself in this highly concise piece of writing is wholly possible. There is no right or wrong way to write a personal statement, and there’s no definitive structure out there that will guarantee that you gain that coveted place at medical school. Regardless, here are a few tips I’ve compiled that have helped me to develop my own personal statement and will hopefully give you a few pointers in writing your own.
Have you done your research? Before writing your personal statement, you need to make sure you have all the information you need. Different medical schools place emphasis on different aspects of your application, and since you can’t tailor your personal statement to suit the requirements of one university alone, you need to make sure that your personal statement meets the criteria for all of the choices you’ve made. This is a good time to go onto individual university websites or to flick through prospectuses, going through the course structure of each medical degree and familiarising yourself with the kind of medical applicant each university is looking for. Also, this is a good time to rule out any medical schools whose teaching styles don’t suit you. Once you’ve compiled enough information about what each medical school is looking for in an applicant, the extracurricular activities they may be interested in and the qualities and experiences they would like to see evidence of, it’s time to start writing your personal statement.
Why do you want to do medicine? This is a question that you’ll get asked at almost every stage on your way to medical school, and maybe even beyond. In fact, my friend who is now a third year medic was asked this recently, and I found myself asking the doctors I was shadowing what drew them to medicine as well. The amount of times I’ve been asked this question myself on my work experience alone was enough to tell me that this question is important and will continue to be brought up. It is therefore crucial that you have some sort of viable answer to this question. I struggle with this one a lot myself, and there may be many reasons for your interest in medicine that you can’t go into in too much detail in a document like a personal statement, where a character limit restricts you in terms of what you can share. However, what you do need to show is that medicine has been a continuous thought process. With a career as demanding as medicine, no admissions tutor wants to see a potential medic declare that their path to medicine was decided by an epiphany one afternoon, or that the answer to this question came to them in a dream. You need to show that you’ve given this huge decision the contemplation and thought it deserves. What is it you like about medicine? Maybe you’ve always had an interest in science, particularly the practical side of things. How did this lead to deciding on medicine? What made you certain that this was a career for you?
What sort of work experience do you have? This links nicely to the previous paragraph. To prove that you’ve given medicine some thought, you need to provide evidence that you understand the demands of the profession and that to some extent, you have an understanding of the career you’re getting yourself into. This paragraph is a good place to talk about some of the key things you’ve seen whilst on work experience. Don’t be tempted to write about every amazing procedure you’ve witnessed, or get too caught up in sharing all of the new medical terminology you’ve learnt. There really isn’t enough space to write about all of this (trust me - it’s been really difficult trying to choose what to include and what I can sacrifice!), but remember that you can save a lot of what you’ve learnt throughout your work experience for your interviews. Choose a few things that taught you about what it’s like to be a doctor, what qualities a doctor should have and maybe share some of the things that surprised you or even the negatives. There’s always something to be learned from bad experiences as well. How did the doctor you were shadowing deal with a difficult situation? What did this teach you about doctor-patient interactions? Draw on your experiences, but don’t just list them. Be introspective.
How can you show a commitment to medicine and healthcare? In this paragraph, it’s important to discuss any voluntary work you’ve undertaken that might have solidified your decision to become a doctor. Mention any long term (or short term) volunteering you’ve been doing, but most importantly, mention what you’ve gained from this. For example, has your volunteering made you more aware of the importance of other healthcare professionals? Has it taught you the importance of empathy? Do you now have a deeper appreciation for the emotional difficulties of the healthcare profession as a result of your volunteering? What have you enjoyed about it, and ultimately, in what ways do you think your volunteering has prepared you for a career in medicine?
What do you like to do in your spare time? Your life can’t be all about medicine, all of the time. Having now spent over half of your personal statement discussing all of the ways in which you’ve shown your dedication to the medical field, you also need to show that there are other dimensions to your character. Are you involved in any clubs or societies at school or university? Why do you enjoy attending these? Do you participate in sports? Do you play an instrument? Are you artistic? Do your other A level subjects supplement your interests? It is important to show that you have interests outside of medicine because medical schools need to see that you have a balance in your life. Maybe your artistic hobby allows you time to relax from your obviously busy schedule, or maybe your involvement in sports is a good stress relief and helps to keep you fit and healthy.
Why should the medical schools choose you? Finally, conclude with a few closing sentences summarising what you’ve said. Perhaps mention that you are well informed about all of the demands a medical career can have upon a person, and that your journey in conclusively deciding whether medicine is for you hasn’t always been easy. However, your experiences should have culminated in you ultimately deciding that this is a path worth pursuing, otherwise you wouldn’t be writing your personal statement for medical schools. What skills and qualities do you have that will make you a good candidate for medical school? Close with a reflective, resolute, well thought out statement that summarises why medicine is the most suitable fit for you.
Overall, you really have to sell yourself in your personal statement. Make the medical schools see exactly why you’ll make a good doctor, and show them that you haven’t just woken up one day and suddenly decided that you’ll give medicine a go. Prove that you’ve given this potential career plenty of consideration, show them that you are a multifaceted person with varied interests and emphasise the qualities you believe will make you an excellent candidate for medical school. Be enthusiastic! There must be something you enjoy about medicine, so make sure that this passion shines through! Trying to do all of this whilst being concise is definitely a challenge, so be prepared to write several drafts of your personal statement before you get to a place where you’re 100% happy with it. Utilise the people around you - get your teachers or university tutors to read your personal statement, even your friends and family and maybe some of the contacts you’ve made whilst on work experience. Take their tips on board, but ultimately, make sure that your personal statement remains personal. Good luck!
Congrats on almost hitting 3k? I'm very curious as to who you'd ship me with! I have selfies on my blog (search selfie If you want?). I'm very short at 5'0, and am definitely the mom friend. I'm addicted to all kinds of music, especially rock and metal, and always have it playing full blast. I told you a lot about me in your heart ask, but I also love archery, reading, writing and I collect swords! A cross between intro and extrovert, also gryffindork through and through. I'm also bi/pan!
Honestly, I think you suit Archiekins
You and Archie are both adorkable and you both love music. He’d be totally supportive of all your interests and you’d do the same for him. You’d both be each others rocks in times of need, for example when your more introverted side comes out Archie would be there like a knight in shining armour to make sure you’re okay at any cost. You’d also be there for him every time he might make a questionable decision, steering him in the right direction, he calls you his “guardian angel”.