Your Questions About Solar Panel Calculator

Richard asks…

how does solar technology work?

how can blue panels generate electricity using the suns rays?

and if solar power works why can't I get a mini panel and use it to charge my iPod they have them in calculators why not chargers?

ssadmin answers:

They are called photovoltaic cells and are specially treated and designed to turn sunlight into electricity. But sunlight takes time to build up energy so while it might take 2 hours to charge the Ipod by and electric outlett, it would take three days. So efficency is the problem

Jenny asks…

Inventions for my story…?

Aspen Summers, your average teenager, lives in Flagstaff Arizona. One night, Aspen wakes up to an eruption in the mountains beside her town, along with earthquakes. Aspens life is torn and tossed around. She's forced to travel to safer grounds by herself, her family gone, and probably dead. Aspen makes it through these tough times with her knack for inventing.

i need some inventions she makes that would help in this sort of situation.
example i have;
**Its light illuminated the room just enough for me to go through the rest of my bag …….. and I had found this old black Gameboy. Of course by now, it would normally be dead and need new batteries (which were extremely hard to find in today’s economy), but I had rewired the power into a couple of now dismantled calculator’s solar panels. The solar panels were taped to the back, the cords flowing wildly into the place where the batteries should have been, connecting in and powering it with a slight buzz. I held the Gameboy up as I pulled out the poem from my pocket and unfolded it carefully.

ssadmin answers:

So hold on, he has a game boy that he is using as a flash light in a dark room. That’s fine but using solar panels as a power source would require a source of light to power the solar powered game boy. Now if the room is bright enough to power the game boy, then it should be bright enough to read a poem.

A cell phone could be a light source. Although it’s not an invention it shows her ingenuity with limited resources.

Robert asks…

Story intro? kind of stuck….(just opinions ect)?

The rain drips off each gray roof top, the sky is filled with supple words.
Though, empty of the whispery flaps and caws, of the black and red birds.
I sit on the steps where I once knew you, looking for those pretty blue eyes,
But all that comes is the splattering drops and the starry night skies.

Wishful thinking only goes so far, when the damage is already done.
But I’ll sit and wait for my dearest darling, even though this battle will never be won.
I sit and wait, just for my dearest Marie,
I sit and wait for my sadness to flee.

I kept staring at the poem, whispering the words into reality. I ran my fingers across each line lightly before tearing out the page and putting it into my pocket. For some reason, just being back in a library, any library, made me feel like everything was back to normal, or at least, none of the problems outside could ever reach me in this here. I walked down the aisle slowly, reading each book title, some too old to even decipher. Most of the books I passed though were at other libraries, and I had already read them, but sometimes I was lucky enough to find a new book to scavenge through.
As I came to the end of the first shelf of poetry, I realized it was probably already getting pretty late and I had to get a move on things tomorrow morning, so I grabbed my backpack, lugging it over my shoulder, and made my way to the back storage room I had found a few days ago.
I had moved around the boxes, which were only filled with ruined books, light bulbs, and those little stickers that marked books, and made room for my sleeping bag and belongings. I locked the door behind me before plopping down into the sleeping bag and pulling open my backpack. There wasn’t any light in the room, but in a second I had found my Gameboy and had turned it on. Its light illuminated the room just enough for me to go through the rest of my bag.
A few towns back, I had stayed in a small house when I was still trying to find the town’s library, and I found this old black Gameboy. Of course by now, it would normally be dead and need new batteries (which were extremely hard to find), but I had rewired the power into a couple of now dismantled calculator’s solar panels. The solar panels were taped to the back, the cords all flowing into the place where the batteries should have been. I held the Gameboy up as I pulled out the poem from my pocket and unfolded it carefully. I set the Gameboy down and pulled out an old binder from my backpack, and tucked the page into the inside folder, which was already overflowing from other poems I had found in other libraries along the way.
I put it all back, along with my Gameboy and tucked myself deeply into my sleeping bag, trying to not to think about the world outside, the things that surrounded me. I just wanted to stay inside this quiet room, a safe haven, from the world’s problems. I just wanted to forget it all. Too bad I couldn’t…

**Ive been reading life and death situation stories… so i really wanted to write a book with an end of the world senario… normally im really a fiction fantasy/(people with powers ect) kind of writer but really wanted to write this***

the stories about a girl, Apsen, who, after volcanoes around the world started arupting, is trying to survive. Shes around 11-13 (havent decided) and she (somewhere along the way) has been separated with her little brother noah, her big brother David and her mother. Im totally stuck on what to put next, how to bring another character into the story, if i should change it into sort of a fictional fantasy(or power related) story. i just need some opinions on how the story should be… made out.

(thanks for all the help, –:D sorry for any mistakes, im only 13…)

ssadmin answers:

I found that incredibly inventive and well written, i know how hard it can be to continue with a story once you've written a good intro, because i always write introductions that are really good, but fail to amount to anything.
That said, i cant really offer much in the way of ideas, but i think you have the talent and creativeness to keep going on your own, this was very good.
I liked the concept of rewiring the gameboy, that was inventive 🙂

Charles asks…

Read my intro? Does it keeped you hooked?

**please just read as much as you want, you DONT havta read it all, i just wanted to give enough info for people to critique!!**

The rain drips off each gray roof top, the sky is filled with supple words.
Though, empty of the whispery flaps and caws, of the black and red birds.
I sit on the steps where I once knew you, looking for those pretty blue eyes,
But all that comes is the splattering drops and the starry night skies.

Wishful thinking only goes so far, when the damage is already done.
But I’ll sit and wait for my dearest darling, even though this battle will never be won.
I sit and wait, just for my dearest Marie,
I sit and wait for my sadness to flee.

I kept staring at the poem, whispering the words into reality. I ran my fingers across each line lightly before tearing out the page and putting it into my pocket. For some reason, just being back in a library, any library, made me feel like everything was back to normal, or at least, none of the problems outside could ever reach me in this here. I walked down the aisle slowly, reading each book title, some too old to even decipher. Most of the books I passed though were at other libraries, and I had already read them, but sometimes I was lucky enough to find a new book to scavenge through.
As I came to the end of the first shelf of poetry, I realized it was probably already getting pretty late and I had to get a move on things tomorrow morning, so I grabbed my backpack, lugging it over my shoulder, and made my way to the back storage room I had found a few days ago.
I had moved around the boxes, which were only filled with ruined books, light bulbs, and those little stickers that marked books, and made room for my sleeping bag and belongings. I locked the door behind me before plopping down into the sleeping bag and pulling open my backpack. There wasn’t any light in the room, but in a second I had found my Gameboy and had turned it on. Its light illuminated the room just enough for me to go through the rest of my bag.
A few towns back, I had stayed in a small house when I was still trying to find the town’s library, and I found this old black Gameboy. Of course by now, it would normally be dead and need new batteries (which were extremely hard to find), but I had rewired the power into a couple of now dismantled calculator’s solar panels. The solar panels were taped to the back, the cords all flowing into the place where the batteries should have been. I held the Gameboy up as I pulled out the poem from my pocket and unfolded it carefully. I set the Gameboy down and pulled out an old binder from my backpack, and tucked the page into the inside folder, which was already overflowing from other poems I had found in other libraries along the way.
I put it all back, along with my Gameboy and tucked myself deeply into my sleeping bag, trying to not to think about the world outside, the things that surrounded me. I just wanted to stay inside this quiet room, a safe haven, from the world’s problems. I just wanted to forget it all. Too bad I couldn’t…

I was back in my bed, back home in my room, staring out my window, I could feel the quake rumbled beneath me, and I heard these blood curdling screams in the roads as I saw a red hot gleam spout up far in the distance. It shot high above the buildings, lighting up the night sky, and I sat there watching it. It was so… so beautiful, like melted gold spouting from a fountain. And it wasn’t until I heard David yelling and little Noah start to wail that I got up and began to reel myself back into reality. Instinctively, I reached for the door, but then realized whatever was going on out there was probably worse than it looked, or maybe the exact opposite. I just had a feeling churning inside me that I might not ever be back in this room again.
In a second I had my backpack open in my hand and was stuffing it full of shirts and jeans and the other inhabitance of my dresser drawers. Just as I got to my bookcase, the quake stopped and David burst into my room, yelling at me to get mom and Noah. Or maybe he told me to get Noah and he would get mom… but as he ran down the hall towards mom’s bedroom, I figured I would go get Noah.
Dropping my backpack, I ran into Noah’s closet of a room, cradling him in my arms. Even though Mom always nagged me about it since he was getting to old for that. After a moment I had gotten his screams down to a whimper as tears rolled down his hot red cheeks. I stuffed diapers and shirts and pants and little toys into his baby bag, along with his small blanket and the two boxes of animal crackers Mom kept in his top dresser drawer. As I lifted the two up I could hear David bounding down the hall way to the room, he swung the door open swiftly and hugged me hard.
“What’s happenin’?” Noah whispered his voice all two-year-old like and wobbly from crying.
Neither of us answered him, but after just a second, David pulled back and looked at my hard and serious.
“No m

ssadmin answers:

Its a nice start. I think the 1st stanza in the poem reads a lot smoother then the second one, though.

Maria asks…

beginning of (rough passage…critiques)…?

The rain drips off each gray roof top, the sky is filled with supple words.
Though, empty of the whispery flaps and caws, of the black and red birds.
I sit on the steps where I once knew you, looking for those pretty blue eyes,
But all that comes is the splattering drops and the starry night skies.

Wishful thinking only goes so far, when the damage is already done.
But I’ll sit and wait for my dearest darling, even though this battle will never be won.
I sit and wait, just for my dearest Marie, I sit and wait for my sadness to flee.
Sitting beneath the gray roof tops, rain washing away my feeble glee.

I kept staring at the poem, whispering the words into reality. I ran my fingers across each line lightly before tearing out the page and putting it into my pocket. For some reason, just being back in a library, any library, made me feel like everything was back to normal, or at least, none of the problems outside could ever reach me in here. I walked down the aisle slowly, reading each book title, some too old to even decipher. Most of the books I passed though were at other libraries, and I had already read them, but sometimes I was lucky enough to find a new book to scavenge through.
As I came to the end of the first shelf of poetry, I realized it was probably already getting pretty late and I had to get a move on things tomorrow morning, so I grabbed my backpack, lugging it over my shoulder, and made my way to the back storage room I had found only hours before.
I had moved around the boxes prior, which were only filled with ruined books, light bulbs, and those little stickers that marked books, and made room for my sleeping bag and belongings. A heavenly looking sleeping bag awaited me at my feet, and I locked the door quickly behind me before plopping down into it and letting out a well deserved sigh. I sat up after a moment, pulling open my backpack. There wasn’t any light in the room, but in a second I had found my Gameboy and had turned it on. Its light illuminated the room just enough for me to go through the rest of my bag.
A few towns back, I had stayed in a small house while I was still trying to find the town’s library, and I had found this old black Gameboy. Of course by now, it would normally be dead and need new batteries (which were extremely hard to find in today’s economy), but I had rewired the power into a couple of now dismantled calculator’s solar panels. The solar panels were taped to the back, the cords flowing wildly into the place where the batteries should have been, connecting in and powering it with a slight buzz. I held the Gameboy up as I pulled out the poem from my pocket and unfolded it carefully. I set the Gameboy down and pulled out an old binder from my backpack, and tucked the page into the inside folder, which was already teeming with other poems I had found in other libraries along the way.
I put it all back, along with my Gameboy, the reassuring buzz of life disappearing, and tucked myself deeply into my sleeping bag. I tried not to think about the world outside, the things that surrounded me, suffocated me. I just wanted to stay inside this quiet room, a safe haven, from the world’s problems. I just wanted to forget it all.
Too bad I couldn’t…
there is still parts between but i decided to post just this and not the whole thing. and thank you for the responses:)

ssadmin answers:

“…shoving it into my pocket” would perhaps sound better.

“so I grabbed my backpack, lugged it over my shoulder, and made my way to the back storage room I had found only hours before.”

The writing is good but I'm not too sure about the ending. It's as if it is there just to fill it out more.

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