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Fundamentals of Speech Communication

Fundamentals of Speech Communication

Executing the project

Interpretive Reading Analysis

The purpose of an interpretive reader is to communicate through voice the work of an author. In other words, the reader makes the story come alive. Successful interpretation of an author’s novel depends on the reader’s understanding of its overall meaning. To achieve this the reader should identify the story’s general purpose by adopting the appropriate speech style. In other words, the reader is expected to use nonverbal communication and vocal variety, tempo, rhythm, inflection and pauses to convey the story’s emotions and actions. The primary objective of this assignment is to help you identify and comment on the vocal and nonverbal techniques used by the reader to strengthen the effectiveness of his reading.

To do the Assignment:

1. Go to

2. Watch the first interpretive/expressive reading entitled, “Sick”. The poem is provided below. (1:51 minute in the video)

3. Read and answer the questions.

4. Type your answers in the template below and upload the assignment on Turnitin in Word format.

Reader Neil Scott-Barbour
Author Shel Silverstein – 1930-1999

Sick (0:25-1:50 minutes)

“I cannot go to school today,” Said little Peggy Ann McKay. “I have the measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, I’m going blind in my right eye. My tonsils are as big as rocks, I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox And there’s one more—that’s seventeen, And don’t you think my face looks green? My leg is cut—my eyes are blue— It might be instamatic flu. I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke, I’m sure that my left leg is broke— My hip hurts when I move my chin, My belly button’s caving in, My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained, My ‘pendix pains each time it rains. My nose is cold, my toes are numb. I have a sliver in my thumb. My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, I hardly whisper when I speak. My tongue is filling up my mouth, I think my hair is falling out. My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight, My temperature is one-o-eight. My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear, There is a hole inside my ear. I have a hangnail, and my heart is—what? What’s that? What’s that you say? You say today is. . .Saturday? G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

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