Hi, I'm a student of Russian University and I study Linguistics. Now I'm writing my diploma and doing research which focuses on gender linguistics. I need to conduct a survey among English people who will be aimed to determine the gender identity of authors of given texts below. Please, try to suppose who are the writers and explain why you think so. Thank u!
Text I
I can't stand this. Curiosity is niggling at me like a burr. It's unbearable. And this could be my only chance to find out the truth. But how? I can't just walk in there. Can I? All of a sudden, a little thought occurs to me. Suppose I hadn't seen the briefcase? Suppose I'd just walked into the flat perfectly innocently, like I normally do, and happened to go straight to Lissy's door and happened to open it? Nobody could blame methen, could they? It would just be an honest mistake.
I come out of the kitchen, listen intently for a moment, then quickly tiptoe back towards the front door. Start again. I'm walking into the flat for the first time.
'Hi, Lissy!' I call self-consciously, as though a camera's trained'on me. 'Gosh! I wonder where she is. Maybe I'll … um … try her bedroom!'
I walk down the corridor, attempting a natural stride, arrive at her door and give the tiniest of knocks.
There's no response from inside. The thumping noises have died down. I stare at the blank wood, feeling a sudden apprehension.
Am I really going to do this?
Yes, I am. I just have to know.
I grasp the handle, open the door – and give a scream of terror.

Text II
The party is huge and bright and noisy. All the dancers are there, still in costume, and all the audience, and a fair number of people who seem to have come along just for the ride. Waiters are carrying drinks around and the noise of chatter is tremendous. As I walk in, I can't see anyone I know. I take a glass of wine and start edging into the crowd, overhearing conversations all around.
'… wonderful costumes …'
'… find time for rehearsals?'
'… judge was totally intransigent …'
Suddenly I spot Lissy, looking flushed and shiny and surrounded by a load of goodlooking lawyer-type guys, one of whom is blatantly staring at her legs.
'Lissy!' I cry. She turns around and I give her a huge hug. 'I had no idea you could dance like that! You were amazing!'
'Oh no. I wasn't,' she says at once, and pulls a typical Lissy-face. 'I completely messed up —'
'Stop!' I interrupt. 'Lissy, it was utterly fantastic. You were fantastic.'
'But I was completely *** in the—'
' Don't say you were ***!' I practically yell. 'You were fantastic. Say it. Say it, Lissy.'
'Well … OK.' Her face reluctantly creases into a smile. 'OK. I was … fantastic!' She gives an elated laugh.

Text III
I'm here representing the Panther Corporation, which is where I work. The meeting is to finalize a promotional arrangement between the new cranberry-flavoured Panther Prime sports drink and Glen Oil, and I flew up this morning from London, especially. (The company paid, and everything!)
When I arrived, the Glen Oil marketing guys started on this long, show-offy 'who's-travelled-the-most?' conversation about airmiles and the red-eye to Washington — and I think I bluffed pretty convincingly. (Except when I said I'd flown Concorde to Ottawa, and it turns out Concorde doesn't go to Ottawa.) But the truth is, this is the first time I've ever had to travel for a deal.
OK. The real truth is, this is the first deal I've ever done, full stop. I've been at the Panther Corporation for eleven months as a marketing assistant, and until now all I've been allowed to do is type out copy, arrange meetings for other people, get the sandwiches and pick up my boss's dry-cleaning. So this is kind of my big break. And I've got this secret little hope that if I do this well, maybe I'll get promoted. The ad for my job said 'possibility of promotion after a year', and on Monday I'm having my yearly appraisal meeting with my boss, Paul. I looked up 'Appraisals' in the staff induction book, and it said they are 'an ideal opportunity to discuss possibilities for career advancement'.
Career advancement! At the thought, I feel a familiar stab of longing in my chest. It would just show Dad I'm not a complete loser. And Mum. And Kerry. If I could go home and casually say, 'By the way, I've been promoted to Marketing Executive.'
Hi,

I'm a student of Russian University and I study Linguistics. Now I'm writing my diploma and doing research which focuses on gender linguistics. I need to conduct a survey among English people who will be aimed to determine the gender identity of authors of given texts below. Please, try to suppose who are the writers and explain why you think so. Thank u!
Text I
I can't stand this. Curiosity is niggling at me like a burr. It's unbearable. And this could be my only chance to find out the truth. But how? I can't just walk in there. Can I? All of a sudden, a little thought occurs to me. Suppose I hadn't seen the briefcase? Suppose I'd just walked into the flat perfectly innocently, like I normally do, and happened to go straight to Lissy's door and happened to open it? Nobody could blame methen, could they? It would just be an honest mistake.
I come out of the kitchen, listen intently for a moment, then quickly tiptoe back towards the front door. Start again. I'm walking into the flat for the first time.
'Hi, Lissy!' I call self-consciously, as though a camera's trained'on me. 'Gosh! I wonder where she is. Maybe I'll … um … try her bedroom!'
I walk down the corridor, attempting a natural stride, arrive at her door and give the tiniest of knocks.
There's no response from inside. The thumping noises have died down. I stare at the blank wood, feeling a sudden apprehension.
Am I really going to do this?
Yes, I am. I just have to know.
I grasp the handle, open the door – and give a scream of terror.
Men don't usually scream.

Text II
The party is huge and bright and noisy. All the dancers are there, still in costume, and all the audience, and a fair number of people who seem to have come along just for the ride. Waiters are carrying drinks around and the noise of chatter is tremendous. As I walk in, I can't see anyone I know. I take a glass of wine and start edging into the crowd, overhearing conversations all around.
'… wonderful costumes …'
'… find time for rehearsals?'
'… judge was totally intransigent …'
Suddenly I spot Lissy, looking flushed and shiny and surrounded by a load of goodlooking lawyer-type guys, one of whom is blatantly staring at her legs.
'Lissy!' I cry. She turns around and I give her a huge hug. 'I had no idea you could dance like that! You were amazing!'
'Oh no. I wasn't,' she says at once, and pulls a typical Lissy-face. 'I completely messed up —'
'Stop!' I interrupt. 'Lissy, it was utterly fantastic. You were fantastic.'
'But I was completely *** in the—'
' Don't say you were ***!' I practically yell. 'You were fantastic. Say it. Say it, Lissy.'
'Well … OK.' Her face reluctantly creases into a smile. 'OK. I was … fantastic!' She gives an elated laugh.
A man is unlikely to call male lawyers 'good-looking'.

Text III
I'm here representing the Panther Corporation, which is where I work. The meeting is to finalize a promotional arrangement between the new cranberry-flavoured Panther Prime sports drink and Glen Oil, and I flew up this morning from London, especially. (The company paid, and everything!)
When I arrived, the Glen Oil marketing guys started on this long, show-offy 'who's-travelled-the-most?' conversation about airmiles and the red-eye to Washington — and I think I bluffed pretty convincingly. (Except when I said I'd flown Concorde to Ottawa, and it turns out Concorde doesn't go to Ottawa.) But the truth is, this is the first time I've ever had to travel for a deal.
OK. The real truth is, this is the first deal I've ever done, full stop. I've been at the Panther Corporation for eleven months as a marketing assistant, and until now all I've been allowed to do is type out copy, arrange meetings for other people, get the sandwiches and pick up my boss's dry-cleaning. Despite their struggle for equality in the work-place, many women still find themselves in these low-level jobs. ore than men. Ergo, it's a woman.
So this is kind of my big break. And I've got this secret little hope that if I do this well, maybe I'll get promoted. The ad for my job said 'possibility of promotion after a year', and on Monday I'm having my yearly appraisal meeting with my boss, Paul. I looked up 'Appraisals' in the staff induction book, and it said they are 'an ideal opportunity to discuss possibilities for career advancement'.
Career advancement! At the thought, I feel a familiar stab of longing in my chest. It would just show Dad I'm not a complete loser. And Mum. And Kerry. If I could go home and casually say, 'By the way, I've been promoted to Marketing Executive.'
The modest and even rather self-deprecating tone of the last two paragraphs also suggests to me that it's a woman. Men are often more arrogant.

Clive
Text I - Men do scream in terror given the nature of terror. However, I think it is male becuase of the 'um' hesitation before the reference to her bedroom. Women might hesitate to enter a girls bedroom, but I'm not sure it would end up as an 'um'.
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Text II is much harder to determine. There is an assertiveness to it that suggests it is a male viewpoint. Lissy's modesty, too, suggests she's down playing her 'fantastic' dancing which with a girl she'd be less likely to do. However, I'm really not confident as it could easily be a female point of view.
Text III - Umm, now then, this one is a tricky one and I'm goig to disagree again. This is a guy. (So I think Text II was female point of view otherwise they're all male). The reasons are that the person refers to themselves as a "loser" in their fathers eyes - this is much more of a male speech than female. And the location of the "stab" being in the chest".. this too is very male to me.
In text1, there are a few expression are more typically used by women.
"niggling at me"
"tiniest of knocks"
The sense of plot is more taken from a female perspective.

text2 seems also written by a woman, although many romance novels are written by males. It is difficult to tell just from the tone and vocabulary.

Text 3 also seems written by a female. Just something about tone, pretense of maleness.
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I think people are a little confused here. The question is the gender of the writer, not of the character being portrayed. This is difficult to do. For example, if the three speakers in the three texts are female - as they appear to be, from the phrasing and expressions used - then even if the writer is male, he would try to make them as female-sounding as possible. The only giveaway might be that male writers tend to be a little weaker portraying the opposite sex than female writers. So you'd try to look for weakness or artificiality in the gender characterization.

My guess is that I. and II. (these seem to be from the same book, as the very unusual name, "Lissy," appears in both) are written by a male. His female characterization appears to be maybe a little artificial.

III. I'm guessing is written by a female. The female characterization appears unforced and not artificial.
Are the texts merely autobiographical narratives, Anon?
I think a general procedure for this would be to first determine the gender of the character being portrayed by the writer, which is usually relatively easy to do. Then, to determine the gender of the writer, look for any kind of weakness or artificiality or stereotyping in the characterization of the opposite sex. A male writer will quite naturally have some difficulty portraying a female character, and vice versa (although female writers seem to be stronger in portraying the opposite sex than male writers). Although any good writer can switch sexes competently, a male might be a little too artificial or stereotypical in his female characterizations. And female writers seem to have some difficulty with concepts like macho-ness, and their portrayal of a macho male character might be a little strained and unnatural.
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