"......People write differently in different forums. For example, a single writing sample may appear MALE for informal writing but test as FEMALE for formal writing. Be sure to interpret the results based on the appropriate writing style. (These notes, for example, are more informal/blog than formal/non-fiction.)"
I don't quite get the idea of male informal and female formal. Perhaps you might explain it to me? I tested:
Total words: 403
Genre: Informal
Female = 349
Male = 615
Difference = 266; 63.79%
Verdict: MALE
Genre: Formal
Female = 643
Male = 310
Difference = -333; 32.52%
Verdict: FEMALE
Used this example that I wrote years ago as the submission:
He used to shout at the television and his children at the end of a workday, “quiet with your homework, the game’s coming on”. She made him take off his oily smelling work clothes, dusted with metal shavings. I would use a tiny pair of child size tweezers to pull out the metal splinters embedded in his fingers. Blood trickled down and he would wipe it on his handkerchief. Shrugging as if he was impervious to pain.
I went to the factory once, on a school trip and the din of a hundred metal lathes and cutting machines made me cover my ears in shock and pain. Yet he went down the cinder path whistling and swinging his thermos of coffee, every day of the week.
He was out of bed at dawn in his pajamas, and went to stoke the coal furnace, the metallic sound of the shovel still echoes now. As he fed the furnace she padded down and made him breakfast; eggs and bacon and toast and coffee. They spent that early hour together, talking and sometimes holding hands. Once I peeked in the silence and saw them sitting side by side, his arm over her shoulders while eating breakfast with his left hand. Pushing egg onto the back of his fork as his black hair fell in his eyes and she brushed it away.
Friday evening was macaroni and cheese for supper, made with strong cheddar and crushed potato chips on top. She didn’t eat supper and spent that time fixing her hair and makeup and putting on her full skirted best dress. She and he would come down the stairs and he would make a low whistling sound and she would smile. She looked like a model, with her shiny hair and red lipstick and high heels. He would help her on with her coat. Put on his own scented with aqua velva and warm up the car.
She gave last minute instructions to the babysitter;
“Janice and Peter can stay up to see teen beat. The younger ones should be in bed by eight. You can have anything you like for supper Evie, either the macaroni or whatever is in the fridge or cupboards or breadbox.”
They went out dancing at the armory each Friday night and met their friends there, and came back flushed and laughing by ten o’clock.
But it feels more like a teeny-bopper adolescent talking instead of myself talking. 
