Photo by Rahul Pandit on Unsplash
The First (Unedited) Drafts
After the winners of the Editor Round Raffle soaked in the prompt and translated it into inspired words, they bravely shared their drafts—flaws and all. Huge kudos to our talented authors for having the courage to put themselves and their work out there!
Ready to find out where the prompt led them? Here’s a sneak peek at the authors’ first drafts, completely unedited. Visit the links to read these amazing stories and to learn more about the authors’ creative brainstorming and drafting process. Then check back next week to discover how they evolve their stories through a round of self edits.
Kindred
Anthony Eden
Once upon a time, not long ago at all, a changeling son returned to the halls of his Queen and Her King. Beneath the lush, flowing green of a hill, there lay a vast kingdom that reached as far as the horizon and burrowed into a great mountain.
We Who Paint The Trees
Léon Othenin-Girard
We who paint the trees, the leaves, the single hairs on spider legs, are often better off alone. Single-mindedly, we trail our brushes along the sunlight streams to fill the world with light. You do not see us, but you see our signature and appreciate it all the same;
Rescue me from the mire, do not let me sink
Sifa Poulton
You approach the cabin with the setting sun. It’s always setting on arrival; never rising, never hanging high. A place frozen in a time, waiting for a witness to fall back into the march of hours, days, seasons.
It’s Watching
Ellie Doores
“You need to get off Twitter, see reality for a change.”
Those were the words that brought me out to the cliff I was perched on, watching as the sun slowly set behind a mountain in the distance. I knew I was supposed to get back earlier in the day, but I got turned around somehow.
The Magic Jar
Kay S. Beckett
“We’re lost, aren’t we? I can try Googling it on my phone.”
“Calm down Ray, we’re not lost. I’ve rode with my parents like a million times, I know where we’re going.”
“But Luce—”
“But Ray! Trust me, I’ve got this.”
Pros and Cons
Amber Roberts
It was supposed to be an easy job.
Get in, get the goods, deliver, done. One final gig before my well-deserved retirement. The last hurrah, a job to get the life out of my system before moving on to something…different. Maybe a security guard at a museum in London.
Headhunters
L.E.E. Persons
Prism was in the middle of polishing her head—an inverted glass pyramid which floated two and half inches above her neck—when a new hit flashed across her vision. She paused, cloth and Q-tip in hand, to take in the details.
Ethereal Child
Antoinette Van Sluytman
There was something timeless about this place. An elysian stroke of twilight upon an empty canvas, abandoned by an ancient civilization that had become muddled, mixed, its violent directions streaking like the beautiful disorder of a world that lived in the constant dichotomy of time and existence.
The Bride
Vicky Walklate
Why wasn’t she moving?
Crouched on the roof of the ugly mountainside building, Malthas stretched his leathery wings towards the star-filled sky and studied his new bride. She stood immobile in the flowers, a breeze stirring her curls and billowing her patterned dress.
The Bear’s Breeches Smell Slightly Sweet As They Rot
Maria L. Berg
I had never seen a man’s face change so quickly. When he finally opened the door, only wide enough to step one foot over the threshold, completely blocking our view inside, the turquoise hills reflected in his bright eyes and the morning sun glistened playfully on his lips. He was still laughing
Deep Networks
Oliver Elwood
Discovery platform rotated lazily as it orbited the trans-d portal. It created just enough artificial gravity to keep Lewis and Clarke anchored to the lab’s designated floor. A stream of images carouselled across the giant display on the lab’s front wall. Lewis leaned over her monitors trying to get as close as possible to the data stream.
“Did it work? It definitely worked.”
Berekvam
Natasha Watts
“Come on, Shelby. You’re bumming me out.”
Dylan’s plea wheedles its way into my skull like a worm taking to soil. I shudder and look up. He’s across from me at the table, countryside flying by out the window of our Flåmsbana train car. There are still drops of water in his neatly trimmed beard from our rainy stop at the Kjosfossen waterfall.
Read more…
Yunequine: Cambriea
Erika F Rose
After two days around people, the forests silence almost swallowed her. But she needed time to think again a when Cambriah was around people she couldn’t let her thoughts flow. As she walked she searched the ground and bushes for plants to forage.
The Right Wrong Path
Nicole Vane
It was suppose to be an hour long hike. Key word. Suppose to. Somehow, and Quinn had no idea how, she had managed to not only stray off the well marked path but had also managed to climb a completely non-beginner friendly hill.
Untitled (for now)
Maya Darjani
Four months after the attack, parts of the Ivory Palace still smoldered blue, the soft light of the gloaming adding an orange cast to the unearthly glow.
Sarai passed the checkpoints, one, two, three, the chip in her badge automatically letting her through into this, the most secure building on the planet.
Universe of Time
Amber Scott
I hiked to the hut in the mountains. It had been a journey of many years, much labour, much soul searching. The place didn’t look like much but nestled high above every city and town, the vistas stretched further than I could see. I peered at my journal. Yes, this was my destination, for the lowly hut matched the ancient sketches in my book.
Smoke and Fog
Fariha Khayyam
The rain-laden earth scent and the monotonous lull of the rain drops thundering atop my roof wrapped me in a warm blanket of memories. Memories were painful now that I was far, far away from the ones with whom I jumped in rain puddles with and those who dried my hair after I’d become fully drenched.
Another Woman
Neta Q
Three years after Danny created a Facebook profile, I filed for divorce. I didn’t want to. But what could I do? My husband was a married man in the throes of a midlife crisis at the ripe old age of thirty-five.
The Birthday Wish
Jen Davenport
The sun dipped beneath the hill in front of me, turning the sky into the perfect palette of pinks and purples. Images filled my thoughts. I couldn’t wait to get to my hotel room so I could break out one of the canvases I’d brought with me.
Not the Grand Tetons
Laura Hazan
The view reminded Elly of visiting the Grand Tetons. In that national park a small church was set apart from all the lodges and visitor centers, just a lone building with the magnificent Tetons in the background; it’s a picture nearly every visitor has taken.
Putting the Tertiaries to Rest
Izzy Varju
Jesse appears, screaming.
Her hands are knotted in her hair, frantically grasping at her head as if to keep it on her shoulders, and you don’t remember it being that red. It might have been the blood matting it, but upon closer inspection you decide it’s just auburn.
Never Look Back
Layton R. Turner
Bodee trekked up the steep hill with his arm around me. The weeds and grass grown up to his knees. I bet his muscles aren’t even burning. Stupid personal trainer glutes.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called you lately,” he said. “It’s just that me and Becka split up.
Loving Him
Aprajita Agnihotri
She has been waiting a long time. A retelling of the famous love between the Indian God Krishna and his beloved, Radha. Loving a God isn’t easy- especially when you can’t stop loving him after he’s left you behind.
There’s a house on the hill, buffeted by a wind that?s hardly ever still. The mango trees surrounding it are a rich, dark green and in the hot muggy heat of the summer there will be rich, yellow-red mangoes on the trees. Radha likes mangoes. She likes the tart ones more than she does the sweet. There are sprigs of wheat growing like weeds strewn across the aangan, but she doesn’t mind them. She enters the little house. It is beginning to fall in on itself. She should be careful, but she doesn’t care. She trusts the gods to keep her safe. After all, one of them loved her once.
[…] We’re on the second week of Writer In Motion, the self-edited draft, and if you read my first draft, you know it was kind of a hot mess. Over 300 words above the limit, and, as is my wont, pretty wordy in general. If you haven’t read all the lovely first drafts yet, you’re missing out, so go do that! […]