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Until next time,

Fariha K.

 

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Writer In Motion: Self Edited Draft 2

This week in #WriterInMotion, we post our self-edited drafts. You can find my Draft 1 Here, To find out more about what this blog series is, click on my introductory post here to find out more.


Returning to this draft felt like detaching my self from ‘the writer’ mindset to ‘the reader’. Some parts I wrote sounded too obvious as a reader, and some parts weren’t as clear. So I added character names and expanded the background and well, corrected grammar mistakes. Finally, below is my Self Edited Draft 2!


The Desert Spirit

Genre: Supernatural, Young Adult, Fantasy

Words Count: 1037


The clinking of glasses and the gruffy voices of men filled The Boots Lounge.

The pub was dimly lit and smelled like beer, sweat and salt from the sea. It was located at the last corner of Old Town so both sailors and miners were the regulars you’d find at The Boots Lounge.

The weird and the unusual people also occasionally visited the pub. Just last month a lady had walked in and she was not the ones you find at the Red District nor the ones you find in the Markets of New Town either. She wore a suit. She had wagered a game of poker with every man in that room. At the end of that night, she had won all hands leaving none the wiser. But, no one had seen her since.

What was unusual about today was that there was a young man, no older than 20. There are young men enlisted as miners and sailors, but those usually wear the blue stripes or the khaki uniforms. This one wore all black and no part of town had black uniforms. He took a seat next to the bar. The Bartender, Finbar, looked him over and asked, “You new here lad? What’ya want to drink?”

“Aye, I don’t frequent this part of town. Um- one Ginger Ale would do, please.” He replied.

***

“In all my life at the sea, I’ve never seen one,” an old man with a missing index fingertip said, banging his third glass of beer on the oak table. “And the new sailors won’t shut up about how dangerous the waters have become! They are as feeble as yesterday’s hatchlings!” he continued obviously irritated.

“Alright mate, I hear ya! You’ve not seen the Loch Ness Monster, but you must’ve seen the Kraken, surely,” replied a frail miner in his mid-50’s with permanently blackened nails, named Aidan.

The conversation had been going on for a while now. At first, it seemed like any other night’s chat about Sirens and Mermaids. Now however, it had expanded to several tables, everyone weighing in their opinions on what other ways you can die at sea. “I’ve heard half a dozen ships have gone missing,” someone from another table added. Hushed voices filled the room as the group recounted the news when the sixth ship had gone missing at sea.

“The Kraken is real alright!!,” said the young man in the black uniform, joining the conversation from where he sat next to the bar. The old man looked up at him, “What’s yer name lad. The name’s Barley, and no one here has ridden the waters as much as I have. And the last time the Kraken was sighted was over a 100 years ago.”  He paused momentarily to gulp the remaining contents of his glass. “Finbar! Get me another round,” he said to the bartender.

“Fraser, fill him up, won’t you,” said the bartender turning to the boy who was washing the dishes. “Aye, Pa.” the boy said running to do the new assigned task as ‘bartender in training’ as his Pa called him.

“You can call me Ruari,” said the young man coming over to Barley’s table. Ruari was handsome on most accounts, but his eyes gave away years that perhaps might be even more than Barley’s time at the sea. “One of my friends have gone missing, they say it’s the Kraken.” The atmosphere had visibly changed as others remembered those who had gone missing as well.

“Well then, who thinks Red Beard is real,” said a short portly miner sitting next to Aidan, attempting to change the mood. However, his attempt backfired as any sailor in hearing distance became clearly tensed up.

“We are talking about legends, Gerard. Mind when you take his name as there can be pir—I mean his accomplices anywhere,” Barley said in a serious tone after finishing his fourth glass, rubbing his missing fingertip absentmindedly. 

“What about the Sand Sailor? Anyone heard ‘bout him?” asked Ruari, genuinely sounding curious. This fortunately elevated the mood. “We are talking about real legends here, not some fairytale, boy!” Barley retorted and the pub was filled with light laughter.

The tinker who was playing a forgotten tune in the corner of The Boots Lounge changed to play the nursery rhyme and soon enough the pub’s regulars joined in.

Sailor O Sailor,

Gone to the sea.

Sailor O Sailor,

Tell me you see.

Sailor O Sailor,

This is all but sand.

Sailor O Sailor,

Come back to the land.

“I’m curious about the Sand Sailor though. I’ve heard they unveiled a painting in the New Town. The painter claims it’s the boat of the Sand Sailor,” the bartender spoke when the laughter and singing had quieted down.

“The sailor who wheels a fishing boat in the middle of the desert and comes to the land when the sky is clear and the moon is red,” Barley sighed, lighting his pipe and taking a long puff. “I’ve heard that painter is a complete nutcase after getting lost in the desert looking for the brightest star to paint, spouts nonsense half the time.”

Just then the bell tolled 12 o’clock and the pub started to filter out as the night shift was about to begin. Ruari paid his change for the Ginger Ale, which was still half full and made his way out. Finbar noticed that Ruari’s coat was sitting forgotten on his chair against the bar. Holding the coat, he ran after Ruari.

***

Meanwhile Barley was just getting up from his table when Finbar returned. “You okay mate? You look white as a sheet,” Barley asked concern evident in his voice.

Finbar sat down on the nearest chair and told his son to get him a glass of water. “That- that Ruari or whatever his name is, he-,” he paused to gulp down water and fingered-combed his ginger hair back, then continued, “he doesn’t have a shadow.”

***

The young man headed towards his awaiting boat, in the Northern Desert.

His ship sailed across the sand with no destination in sight, guided by the stars that filled the night sky and the blood moon for that one night and one hour.


Stay tuned for next week’s post where we fine tune this draft based on the feedback gained from our critiquing partners! You can read the self-edited drafts by other authors, here!

FTK 🙂

Write In Motion: The Unedited Draft 1

Finally, it’s time to unveil the very first draft of #WriteInMotion Blog Series. To find out more about what this blog series is, click on my introductory post here to find out more. I have also written briefly about my process over here.


Once I saw the prompt (below), it gave me mysterious feels -like as if it’s something completely ordinary yet somehow different. They scene and the setting started to form in my head. The next day I had word vomited 529 words. I’ll call this Draft 1, the one I’ll post below.

Soon I got to know that the word limit is not 500, but 500 to 1000. So, I sat again to write Draft 1.5. Now, this week’s draft is supposed to be the actual, very first thing you wrote, not the revised one, and surely not the edited one.

And so I’ll post my Draft 1 below, which by the way I hate. There are a LOT of grammatical and spelling errors, specially because English is my third language, and it doesn’t have a title or any character names (yet).


Untitled

Genre: Supernatural, Young Adult, Fantasy

Words Count: 529


The clinking of glasses and the gruffly voice of men filled The Boots Lounge.

The pub was dimly lit and smelt like beer, sweat and salt from the sea but by no means was a small pub. It was located by the last corner of Old Town so both sailors and miners were the regular sort of people you’d find at The Boots Lounge.

You’d find some unusual folk there as well. Just last month a lady had walked in, and not the ones you find at the Red District nor the ones you find in the Markets of New Town either. She wore a suit. She’d wagered a game of poker with every man in that room. At the end of the night, she had won all hands and no one has seen her since.

What was unusual about today was there was a young man. Now there are young men as miners or sailors but those usually wear the blue or the khaki uniforms. This one was wearing all black, and no part of town had black uniforms.

“In all my life at the sea, I’ve never seen one” a fat old man said banging his third glass of beer on the oak table. “And the new sailors lot won’t shut up talking about how dangerous the waters have become” he continued. “Alright mate, I hear ya! You’ve not seen the Lochness Monster, but you gotta’ve seen the Kraken surely” replied the frail man in his mid-50’s, definitely a miner judging from his permanently black nails.

This conversation had been going on for a while now. At first it seemed like any other night’s chat when it started about Sirens and Mermaids. Now however, it had expanded to several tables. “I’ve heard half a dozen ship have gone missing lately” someone from another table yelled. Hushed voices filled the room as the group recounted the news when the sixth ship had gone missing at sea.

“What about the Sand Sailor, anyone heard ‘bout him?” asked the young man in the black uniform. He had been keenly listening to the conversations but this was the first thing he had said all night. “The Sand Sailor, we are talking about real myths here, not some fairytale, boy!” another man retorted and the pub was filled with laughter.

“I’m curious about the Sand Sailor, I’ve heard they unveiled a painting in the New Town.” The bartender spoke when the laughter quieted down. “The sailor who wheels a fishing boat in middle of the desert, yeah I’ve ‘eard of the Sand Sailor,” said the fat old man, “But I’ve also heard that the painter is a lunatic, spouts nonsense half the time.”

The bell tolled 12 o’clock and the pub started to filter out as the night shift was about to begin. The young man also made his way out. He kept on walking north towards the desert until he reached his ship. Until the stars filed the night sky, the ship sailed across the sand, but more peculiar was the fact that the young man had no shadow, not in the crowded pub and not here under the open sky.


So, there you have it! Stay tuned to next week’s post where this draft is self-edited to create Draft 2! You can also check out the posts from other authors here, Thanks to KJ for lining them up in a nice thread!

🙂 FTK

Writer In Motion: The Process

The very first unedited draft is due on 15th June and I’m so nervous. I’ve written short stories and I’ve done photo prompts. But not both together and that too with a bunch of other authors. On the bright side, however, I’m excited to read theirs as well!


Plotter, Plantser, or Pantser

Plotter is most self explanatory. If you plan and outline everything before actually beginning to write, then you are a Plotter.

On the other hand, if you let your character create the story and have no idea where your story will take you, then you are a Pantser.

Plantser is somewhere in between the two. You plan some parts of your writing piece, it could be the setting or some of the scenes, then you let your story fall into place as it progresses.


For my short story for #WriterInMotion, I word vomited a setting and then went back to add characters and dialogues. I was itching to edit it, so I jumped ahead to self-edit the draft (for Week 2) which will be posting on 22nd June. (Genre, Title and word count will be revealed on Saturday’s post along with the first draft).

I saw this Writing Style Alignments (below) on twitter, made by @cheyannealepka. Based on that, I consider myself a “Chaotic Plantser“.

Image Photos Text

Mood Board

I had free time on my hand, so I created an aesthetic mood board (because who doesn’t want a mood board!) inspired by my first draft.


Let me know what you think and if you are a Plotter or Pantser!

FTK 🙂

Writer In Motion

I came across the hashtag #writerinmotion on twitter and was immediately drawn to it. And then for the next two-ish hours I was blog hopping trying to get more information and if it’s my interest speaking or my curiosity.

Turns out its both my interest and curiosity. If you enjoy writing and been wanting to know more about the revision journey, look no further, Writer In Motion Blog Series is here.


So what is Writer In Motion?

To start with it’s a month long Blog Series. Me along with a bunch of amazing authors will be drafting a 500-1000 word long story based on a photo prompt. (Photo prompt is below!)

There will be four weeks total of drafts: their first (unedited) draft, their second draft (self-revising), a third draft based on critique partner feedback (the authors will also be critiquing each other’s work), and a final draft based on editorial feedback. Then on the last week, we’ll each share our thoughts about the process.

Read more about it HERE

For Updates follow Jeni Chappelle, our game master, and the hashtag #WriterInMotion on Twitter!


The Prompt


The Schedule


Stay tuned for my blog posts under the “Book Reviews” Category!

FTK 🙂

Durarara!! Vol. 1: Review

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I finally have this one on my bookshelf and can’t wait until I have all 13 volumes!!

I dived into reading the light novels after watching the Anime series (multiple times) and absolutely loving it.

The light novel did not disappoint. I read the English Translated volume and the translation was on-point. The writing is witty and the plot twists take you by surprise. The author knew well enough how to handle such a huge cast of characters and each character gets their due limelight as the story progressed. Each character has a distinct personality and their interactions and decisions is what moves the plot forward. The art is also good.

Overall 5 out of 5 stars. Recommended if you enjoy character driven stories, (the anime is just too good!)