Explore the three core writing aims in the NYS ELA CST—Opinion/Argument, Informative/Explanatory, and Narrative. Learn what each type asks you to do, how ideas are organized, and how prompts typically signal the purpose, with practical, real‑world clarity.

Multiple Choice

Describe the three writing types commonly assessed in NYS ELA CST.

The three writing types commonly assessed in NYS ELA CST are Opinion/Argument, Informative/Explanatory, and Narrative. Opinion/Argument writing asks you to take a position on a topic, state a clear claim, and support it with reasons and evidence drawn from reading, experience, or research, arranged in a logical structure to persuade the reader. Informative/Explanatory writing aims to convey information or explain how something works or why something happens, using facts, definitions, examples, steps, or descriptions organized so readers can understand the idea clearly. Narrative writing tells a story with a setting, characters, and a sequence of events, often including dialogue and a point of view that guides how the reader experiences the plot. These three types reflect the main purposes students write for in school and on assessments: arguing a position, explaining information, and telling a story. On the CST, prompts typically align with one of these goals, so you can recognize the type by looking for a claim and evidence in the first, a clear explanation or description in the second, or a plot-driven story in the third. Some prompts might blend features, but the framework centers on these three writing purposes.

Three Writers, Three Goals: The Big Three of NYS ELA CST

If you’ve ever watched a movie and thought, “This scene has a purpose,” you know how crucial a clear aim is. In writing class notes and in state assessments, that same idea sticks: different kinds of writing have different goals. In New York State’s ELA standards, three main writing types sit at the center of how students express what they’ve learned and how they think. They’re not just different forms; they’re different missions. And understanding them can make writing feel less like a mystery and more like a map.

Let’s break down the trio: Opinion/Argument, Informative/Explanatory, and Narrative. Each one has its own rhythm, its own evidence, and its own way of guiding a reader from start to finish. And yes, they’re all useful outside the classroom too—whether you’re crafting a persuasive email, a how-it-works guide, or a short story for a school zine. Think of them as three tools in a writer’s toolbox, each good for a particular job.

Opinion/Argument: Taking a Position with a Purpose

What it’s for

Opinion/Argument writing is about taking a stance and defending it. You pick a claim, a position you genuinely believe, and then you persuade the reader that your view matters. It’s not about winning a popularity contest; it’s about presenting reasoned arguments supported by evidence.

What it looks like in practice

  • A clear claim: You’ll state your position early, sometimes in a thesis-like sentence that acts as a guidepost for the reader.

  • Reasons and evidence: You back that claim with logical reasons, which you support with facts, examples, or quotes from credible sources (and, when appropriate, your own experiences).

  • Organization that persuades: The writing flows in a logical order—perhaps starting with a compelling reason, then adding evidence, and finishing with a strong conclusion.

  • A counterpoint (sometimes): Good argument writing often acknowledges a competing view and explains why your position still holds. This shows you’ve thought the issue through.

What makes it feel human

  • The voice matters. You don’t have to sound robotic; a confident, nuanced tone helps. You can sprinkle a bit of personality into the analysis—without tipping into an overly casual groove.

  • Real-world parallels help. People argue all the time—op-eds, policy discussions, debates on campus. Borrow that feel: aim for clarity, not noise.

  • It’s okay to be persuasive, not combative. The goal is to convince through reason, not to shout.

What to watch for

  • A weak claim or fuzzy stance? Nail your position early.

  • Missing evidence? Bring in specifics. Data, examples, or quotes can do a lot of heavy lifting.

  • Too much summary, not enough reasoning? Balance the “what” with the “why.”

Informative/Explanatory: Clarifying How and Why

What it’s for

Informative/Explanatory writing aims to inform or explain. It’s about making ideas clear and accessible. The reader should finish with a better grasp of how something works, what something means, or why something happens.

What it looks like in practice

  • Clear purpose: You’re teaching the reader something or guiding them through a process.

  • Definitions, descriptions, steps, or examples: This is the core toolkit. Definitions set the vocabulary; descriptions paint a vivid picture; steps lay out procedures; examples illustrate the concept in action.

  • Logical organization: The structure usually follows a predictable path—defining terms, explaining components, then showing how they connect.

  • Cohesive transitions: Linking ideas smoothly helps readers follow along without getting lost in the weeds.

What makes it feel human

  • Curiosity shines here. You’re often teaching something you find interesting, or you’re helping someone else understand something new.

  • Use visuals in your head, not just your words: when you explain how something works, imagine the mechanism step by step. That mental model translates into clearer prose.

  • The tone is practical. It’s less about arguing a point and more about making a concept approachable, almost like you’re guiding a friend through a DIY project.

What to watch for

  • Jargon overload: If the reader wouldn’t know the terms, you’ve got to explain them.

  • Loose structure: If the explanation wanders, tighten the sequence. A reader should feel the “aha” moment arrive, not chase it.

  • Insufficient evidence or examples: Concrete details help lock in understanding.

Narrative: Telling a Story with a Point of View

What it’s for

Narrative writing is storytelling. It invites readers into a world with a setting, characters, and a sequence of events. The narrator’s point of view shapes how the reader experiences the plot.

What it looks like in practice

  • Setting and character: You establish where and who the story is about. Vivid details invite imagination without bogging down the pace.

  • Plot sequence: A clear arc—introduction, rising action, climax, and resolution—guides the reader through the story.

  • Voice and perspective: The narrator’s angle—first person, third person limited, etc.—influences what the reader hears and sees.

  • Emotional through-line: Even a simple story glows when there’s a moment of change or realization.

What makes it feel human

  • It’s about connection. Good narratives often reflect themes we recognize in daily life—identity, courage, friendship, resilience.

  • It’s playful with language. Metaphor, sensory detail, and a touch of humor can give a piece life.

  • The reader rides the journey with the writer. The best narratives don’t just tell what happened—they evoke what it felt like to be there.

What to watch for

  • Getting lost in description: Rich imagery is great, but keep the plot moving.

  • Flat characters: Give your characters wants, fears, and quirks. Readers stay engaged when people feel real.

  • A vague ending: A satisfying resolution or a thoughtful twist helps the reader leave with something to think about.

Bringing the Three Together in School and Beyond

These three writing types aren’t isolated categories you memorize and file away. They’re practical ways to communicate in different situations, whether you’re drafting a letter, creating a guide, or spinning a short tale for a school publication.

A few tips to keep the three alive in everyday writing:

  • Start with the purpose. Ask yourself: What am I trying to accomplish with this piece? Persuade, explain, or tell a story? The answer should shape every sentence.

  • Read as a writer, not just a reader. Notice how authors switch gears when they switch genres. Where does a writer state a claim? Where do they present steps or definitions? Where does the tension of a plot rise?

  • Use a simple map. Even a quick outline helps. For an argument, line up the claim, reasons, and evidence. For explanatory writing, map out definitions, parts, and examples. For narrative, sketch the setting, characters, conflict, and resolution.

  • Blend, but be mindful. Real-world writing often blends aims. Perhaps a narrative with a clear theme also offers a few moments of explanation or a stance on a bigger idea. That’s okay—the trick is to keep the core purpose visible.

Practical examples you might imagine

  • Opinion/Argument in action: You’re making a case for a class project format that you believe works best for showcasing learning. Your claim is that project-based demonstrations with peer feedback yield deeper understanding. You’d present reasons, cite examples from classroom experiences, and anticipate a counterpoint like time constraints, then explain why the benefits still win out.

  • Informative/Explanatory in action: You’re explaining how a sustainable garden works. You define terms like compost, mulch, and pollinators, describe how each element fits, and lay out steps someone would take to start their own tiny backyard ecosystem.

  • Narrative in action: You write a short story about a student who discovers a hidden library in an old school wing. The setting comes alive, characters interact through dialogue, and the plot teaches a gentle lesson about curiosity and community.

Cultural and instructional context matters too

Every community has its own storytelling textures, and the same three writing types can take on local flavors. You might hear more emphasis on debate and civic engagement in some districts, which nudges more practice in argument and persuasive writing. Others may celebrate clear explanations and diagrams in science topics, giving informative/explanatory writing a starring role. And of course, stories—from personal narratives to folklore-inspired pieces—can be a powerful vehicle for exploring identity, history, and shared experiences.

If you’re curious about how people in different classrooms approach these forms, listen for the tells: a strong claim in an argument piece, a careful sequence in an informational text, or a vivid scene that pulls you into a narrative. Those cues aren’t just exam markers; they’re signatures of how writers connect with readers.

A quick note on the craft, not the clock

We often talk about what students “need” to do in school, but the real value lies in flexible communication. The three writing types give you versatile tools to express ideas, share know-how, and tell stories that stick. They’re not rigid boxes; they’re adaptable frameworks you can tailor to your audience and purpose.

If you find yourself working on any writing task, try this quick checklist:

  • Is my main purpose clear? Is it to argue, explain, or tell a story?

  • Do I make a claim or state a purpose early on, if relevant?

  • Do I back up arguments with reasons and evidence, or explain steps with definitions and examples, or move through a plot with a defined arc?

  • Is the structure easy to follow, with logical progression and helpful transitions?

  • Have I used a voice that fits the task—confident for argument, instructive for explanation, or emotive for narrative?

The beauty of writing is that these three modes aren’t adversaries. They’re friends you can call on as the moment requires. A thoughtful piece might blend elements—an argumentative stance wrapped inside a narrative, or a narrative punctuated by a crisp, explanatory interlude. The trick is to keep the reader oriented and the purpose clear.

Closing thought: writing as conversation

At its core, writing is a conversation you have with someone else—your reader. The three types are different conversational styles. Sometimes you’ll be the planner, laying out a strategy and making a case. Sometimes you’ll be the teacher, guiding another through a concept with clarity. Sometimes you’ll be the storyteller, inviting someone into a moment that matters.

If you walk away with one takeaway, let this be it: knowing the three main writing types lets you choose the right tool for the moment. It also helps you notice the choices other writers made—choices about where to place evidence, how to describe a process, and what kind of heartbeat to give to a scene. It’s not about category for the sake of category; it’s about communicating effectively, with clarity, intent, and a touch of humanity. And that, in the end, is what great writing really comes down to.