So I’m stuck in between choosing two essays and I don’t know which would be better for applying to these schools being UMD College park, Towson University, Temple university, College of Charleston, and Appalachian State University.
My first essay pick is:
The Strings I Choose to Pull
I hold the strings to countless lives, each woven from ink, imagination, and possibility. With a tug, a character takes a step forward. With a twist, their world changes. I sit behind the curtain, watching their stories unfold, deciding which paths they should follow to become who I want them to be. Yet, as I guide my characters through unfamiliar worlds, I have begun to realize that I am also discovering my own.
Many days, I find myself doing something ordinary when a situation suddenly takes shape in my mind. I imagine how someone might react to a difficult choice, what could happen if one decision changed, or how a relationship might survive a challenge. Then, I begin asking myself how I could place my characters in that situation. In my web novel, “Villain To Hero?: Rehab University”, these questions become the foundation of my storytelling. I move characters like Pomu, Juro, and many others through possibilities, exploring how their choices shape who they will become and how this could affect them.
However, my characters are more than puppets on a stage. Growing up, I often felt out of place, as though I struggled to find where I truly belonged. Three certain friends in my life helped me feel more complete, reminding me that I did not have to face everything alone. That experience influences how I write Pomu and Juro, who continue to stand by each other through uncertainty and hardship. Through their relationship, I explore the importance of having someone who understands you, especially when the world makes you feel like an outsider. Writing their bond allows me to turn my own feelings into something meaningful rather than leaving the readers lingering for these feelings the characters harbor.
For a long time, I also worried about disappointing the people who followed my stories. If readers cared about a character, I hesitated to put that character through difficult trials that could shape them drastically. I imagined their reactions and wondered whether they would understand my decisions. Eventually, I realized that trying to satisfy everyone could prevent me from telling an honest story. A puppeteer who fears every movement cannot bring a performance to life. My characters need the freedom to make mistakes, experience consequences, and discover unexpected paths. I must be willing to take creative risks, even when I cannot predict the outcome.
This willingness to explore possibilities also connects to my interest in paleontology. Juro and his siblings possess dinosaur powers, and developing their abilities encourages me to think about prehistoric life beyond the facts I already know. I imagine how their powers might function, how their bodies would adapt, and how the traits of ancient creatures could influence their behavior. These fictional questions reflect my curiosity about how prehistoric animals lived and survived. Although writing and paleontology are different pursuits, both encourage me to investigate possibilities, ask questions, and build a deeper understanding of the world.
As I work toward becoming a paleontologist, I hope to carry this curiosity beyond my stories and into extensive scientific research. I want to study prehistoric life, explore evidence of fossils from the past, and contribute to our understanding of creatures that once inhabited Earth. My imagination may begin with Juro having a dinosaur related power, but it motivates me to learn more about the real animals that inspired him.
I return to my keyboard, gathering the loose threads of another idea. My characters wait at the edge of their next adventure, and I begin to write. I cannot control every consequence, nor can I guarantee that every choice will be understood. What I can do is approach each decision with purpose and curiosity. I may be the puppeteer, but the stories I create have taught me how to navigate uncertainty, understand connection, and keep exploring. Wherever my strings lead, I intend to follow them.
While my second essay is:
I hold the strings to countless lives, each one woven from ink, imagination, and possibility. With a tug, a character takes a step forward. With a twist, their entire world changes. Some strings lead toward redemption; others tighten around choices they cannot undo. I sit behind the curtain, watching the consequences unfold, wondering which threads I should cut and which deserve to remain.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, but my mind is turning like a cog thinking of the next steps.
Pomu stands at a crossroads, carrying the weight of everything they have endured. Juro follows a path I have carefully laid before him, unaware of the obstacles waiting around the corner. Quinn drifts into the spotlight, and I begin to wonder whether readers will grow fond of them. Each character moves along the threads I have spun, yet the more I develop their stories, the more difficult it becomes to decide where those strings should lead.
In my web novel, Villain To Hero?: Rehab University, I can pull a character backward, return them to an earlier scene, and change a single decision. A different conversation, a moment of hesitation, or an unexpected betrayal can send the entire plot spiraling in another direction. I watch each possibility unfold in my imagination before choosing which version deserves to reach the page.
Sometimes, I let the strings lead somewhere darker. I imagine a future without Juro, watching the remaining characters struggle to find their footing in a world that no longer has him. Their choices change. Their relationships shift. The story bends beneath the weight of his absence. My fingers pause. Is this the direction I want to take, or am I simply testing how much my characters can endure?
Then another thought creeps in. What will my readers think?
I imagine someone staring at the screen, rereading a passage they never expected to encounter. Will they understand why I pulled that particular string? Will they recognize the purpose behind my decision, or will they close the story, unwilling to follow me any further? I picture the characters my readers have grown attached to, their stories tangled with the expectations of people who want to see them succeed.
For a while, I treated those expectations like invisible hands guiding my own. I hesitated before making difficult decisions, searching for a path that would satisfy everyone. If readers loved a character, why risk disappointing them? Why disturb a story they enjoyed?
But a puppeteer who fears every movement will never bring a performance to life.
I cannot keep every character safe from hardship or guarantee that every decision will be welcomed. If I allow the fear of disappointing my audience to dictate every movement, then I am no longer directing my story. I am simply following someone else’s script.
That realization changed how I write. I still treasure the people who follow my work. Their enthusiasm encourages me to return to the keyboard, even when the next chapter feels impossible to untangle. Yet I have learned that caring about my readers does not mean surrendering every creative decision to them. I must understand why I pull each string, even when I cannot predict what will happen after the curtain rises.
Ansel may fall. Juro may make a decision that leaves readers questioning everything they thought they knew about him. Pomu may find hope in a place I never expected. I cannot promise that every outcome will satisfy everyone, but I can make sure each one serves a purpose.
I return to my keyboard, gathering the loose threads of my imagination. The characters are waiting, their futures suspended between countless possibilities. I take a breath and begin to write.
I may be the puppeteer, but every story demands that I take a chance on where its strings lead. And as long as there are new paths to explore, I will keep pulling them.