Week 4 – Self- edits
It’s always hard to know where to start with editing. For this project I looked at comments people had made about the first draft – they liked the emotion mostly. So, when I read through and added notes about what to change “add more emotion” was the most common! Here’s a snippet of my notes –
Dirna finally had time. Well, she would if she could creep away with no-one finding something urgent for her to deal with. Show motivation not tell She stuffed some bread, nuts and water in a cloth and tied it to her staff. She left before dawn, creeping through the cold tunnels. add atmosphere/description
She came out by the river, gasping at the icy air. The boat was right there. Gulping a breath to steady her she walked right up to it. More emotion When her fingers were stretched as close to the hull as possible without touching the wood she paused. Description – tied to emotion- tired/wrecked like her life since war
In the end I added words rather than cutting them. Luckily, mine wasn’t too long to start with – but more than the original 500 word limit. I also read my work out loud as that helps highlight the clunky phrases and repetition.
Here’s the result of my first edit –
Time to Mourn
Dirna finally found time. She left before dawn, knowing no-one would be around to ask her to solve any problems. The problems never ended. She sighed as she gave a quick glance to check the tunnel was deserted. She wrapped her wolfskin cloak tight to keep out the cave’s still coldness. Glow-worms tracked the way, not that she needed guidance – she’d created these tunnels.
She came out by the river, gasping at the icy wind. The boat loomed, alone and grey. She stopped, as frozen as the rock she’d left. Grief slapped her, and it would hurt worse the closer she got. She gulped a breath and walked to the boat.
Her fingers stretched as close to the hull as possible without touching the wood. Her hand shook and she stumbled back as the dizzy wave of memory reached for her – the sorrow imprinted in the splintering timber. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t ready.
But she had to. She touched the flaking paint.
Her tired mind punched into the memory – a bright blue day, fishing with Jarn.
Warmth wrapped her. Freedom of swimming in the open air spun her mind. Jarn grinned at her and she laughed back. Their first time out of the caves in weeks. Her hair flung out as the boat skated along the waves.
Hugging the coast, hoping to escape notice from the elders as well as the dragons, they set up their makeshift rods and stretched into the sun on the deck. They were intent on their lines, lying still against the blueness.
A vast shadow dropped on them. Dirna’s mind plunged into ice. Her stomach clenched as Jarn twisted round. Dirna scrabbled for her staff with skittering hands.
The emerald dragon snatched them from the water as easily as an eagle took a fish.
‘No!’ Jarn shouted, covering Dirna,.
‘It’s all right,’ Dirna whispered.
‘I’ve got you.’ Jarn held her shoulders.
She raised her staff and frantically sucked in power. She stumbled on the swaying deck but Jarn steadied her. The solidity of him, the rock-hard support of his faith in her made her put everything into taking power from the cliffs swinging below them.
Rock crumbled with a crash into the sea, making the dragon turn with a jerk. The boat rocked like a treehouse in a storm. The dragon banked, trying to regain its balance.
Dirna used her spasm of fear, ratcheting the magic tighter, she spun a protective net under the boat. She aimed energy at the dragon’s claws, shooting it from her staff with a crack.
The dragon gasped a vast stream of fire with a shriek that stunk of blood and rot. Dirna cringed back to the deck with Jarn falling over her. One set of claws sprang open, making the boat lurch. Dirna clung to a chain.
But Jarn fell.
Dirna screamed as he spun past the rail. Her staff stretched out but he slipped past it with his fingers outspread. She struggled to extend the magic to reach under him, but her power had depleted. Before she could reach for more Jarn hit the sea with a cry. The dragon let the boat go and dived to snatch him up.
Dirna held the rail as her protective net caught the boat, lowering it to the sea with a gentle thwack. She cowered in a helpless ball, watching the dragon flying back to the mountains with Jarn in its clutch. His face, broken and bloodied, filled her view. She yearned to shut it out, slam her eyes closed, but she couldn’t turn away from her last sight of him.
Before the other sorcerers could draw the boat to shore Dirna balled the horror, the grief, the guilt and soaked it into the splintered wood below her. She couldn’t let it stop her fighting back. Jarn would have killed the dragons to avenge her and she would do the same for him. Numb anger took the place of the love and grief.
Dirna let the hull go and sank to the mud by the wreck, as hollow and torn as its timbers.
She’d had to fight, to rebuild, to protect the remnants of their old life.
But now there was space to mourn.
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The next stage is getting feedback from two other writers. We are all swapping work. It is always easier to see the problems in other people’s writing. With your own work you can’t help thinking about what you meant to write rather than what you actually wrote!
To see how everyone else is getting on click the links here –
KJHarrowick ( Blog 1 & Blog 2) | Jen Karner | H.M. Braverman | J.M. Jinks | Melissa Bergum | Thuy Nguyen | Kristen Howe| | Sean Willson | Paulette Wiles | Talynn | Ellen Mulholland | Jeni Chappelle | Carly Hayward
Sheri MacIntyre | Jessica Lewis | Susan Burdorf | Stephanie Whitaker | Dawn Currie | Megan Van Dyke | SKaeth | Ari Augustine | Fariha Khayyam | M. Dalto | Sheryl Stein | Belinda Grant
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