You’ve read eyewitness accounts, historians’ analysis of the events, and doctors’ descriptions of the injuries Mr. Entire battalion of horses and men worked on the victim for 45 minutes, but could not put him back together again.
After reviewing all your material, you think The last “if only” in the preceding list gives you an idea for a thesis, which you turn into a sentence: The emphasis on militarism in the training of the king’s men led to the tragic demise of Humpty Dumpty.
One of those ideas becomes your thesis statement: To prevent serious injury, architects should design safer walls.
Another thesis catcher is the relationship question, especially helpful when you’re writing about literature.
Now you’ve got the basis for your paper: the thesis statement.
You contrast fossil fuels with solar power, deciding on this thesis statement: Solar energy is less harmful to the environment than fossil fuels.
The internet has progressed and continues to progress as time passes.
A couple of possibilities occur to you — “bears that hang around people end up eating porridge and sleeping in beds,” “both blonds and baby bears like medium-firm mattresses,” and “humans and bears share forest resources.” As you tease out a few more ideas, you search for the middle ground, avoiding a thesis statement that is too broad or too narrow.
You want one that, like Goldilocks’s porridge, is “just right.” As soon as you’ve got a chunk of research, a deck of index cards, or a few files on the computer, take a few moments to reread your material.