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).
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!