Writer in Motion - Week 3

Updated: Jul 11, 2019

The Rough Drafts

A note from Jeni

It is finally time for the Writer in Motion authors' unedited first drafts based on the prompt. It's been really fun and exciting to see how different everyone's processes and results are, especially considering that these pieces all came from the same prompt. We have some pantsers, some plotters, some plantsers, and some who are still figuring out their process. And the range of tone, mood, voice, character, setting, and plot is just as varied.

And I want to take a moment to acknowledge something here. It takes a lot of courage for an author to put unedited work out into the world. Every single one of these writers pulled on their thick skin and let the words flow. As I've said before and will likely say again, the courage of writers never fails to inspire me. I have so much respect for all of you!

Over this next week, the authors will edit these drafts, post them to their blogs, and then send them to their critique partners for feedback. Check back soon to see the first revisions.

All my best!


The Prompt

The First (Unedited) Drafts

J.M. Jinks

The bell tolled on beat with my heart. One. Thump. Two. Thump. Three. Thump. On and on until it reached twelve. The witching hour.

I tugged the hood of my cloak lower and slid from the dark, shadowed crevice I’d been hiding in, waiting for this moment. Read more ...

Ellen Mulholland

The sand beneath my feet rises like the tide as I faceplant, forced to eat wet earth. A thought crosses my mind like a serpent, slithering between a seaweed jungle of fear and regret: I’m going to die. Read more ...

K.J. Harrowick

We called it Ketoshé 12, the blue prison, and once again I’d picked a fight with the wrong asshole. At least he was dead now, but by the blood pouring out of my wound, I wasn’t far behind. Read more ...

Kathryn Hewitt

Dirna finally had time. Well, she would if she could creep away with no-one finding something urgent for her to deal with. 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. Read more ...

Paulette Wiles

A killer walked the streets of Marseille, but all Adeline cared about was having a smoke.

She lit a cigarette and took a long draw, resting her elbows on the window frame. Air channeled down the Rue du Panier, pushing strands of cropped brown hair into Adeline’s smudged eyes. Read more ...

Jen Karner

70 clicks out from the nearest harbor and the engine gives out. It only takes minutes for the sand to creep over the bow, for the dunes to swallow the boat. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Leaving Arcadia had been a good idea.

Melissa Bergum

Stars freckled Night’s sky. The only positive to this imprisoment is its forced me out of the hustle of human cities. You can’t exactly see the stars in a city that competes againts those twinkling marks on his face. I’d never tell Night how much I enjoy this view. Read more...

Sean Willson

The seahorse wouldn’t leave Alora alone. It kept pecking at her neck and it was starting to hurt. “What do you want?” she shouted. Unfurling its tail, the seahorse dropped a small shell into Alora’s lap and skittered away. Read more ...

Thuy Nguyen

He came to me in a midnight clear. An old man in a broken boat, rusty and screaming of tetanus. There was something odd about him. Otherworldly. As if he’d come from another time and place. Read more ...

Kristen Howe

Adrienne Sinclair was racing against the clock to solve the puzzle. She stood at the start of the path and spotted the small sign for the Point Reyes Shipwreck before her. With a quick glance to check to see if anyone was behind her Read More ...

H.M. Braverman

The stars in the sky over the old, abandoned boat twinkled as they spread the latest celestial gossip. Theirs looked like eternal existences when compared to most living creatures, but true objectivity is nearly impossible. Read more ...

Stephanie Whitaker

Remembering the day of your birth wasn’t something most people could do. Sahara on the other hand remembered every detail, from the spark of light to the searing pain as she was birthed into a world of suffering. Read more ...

Megan Van Dyke

Historian and treasure hunter Jane Gattis bit her lip to hide the goofy grin threating to spread across her face. This was it. The moment she’d dreamed of for ten long years since she first heard the tale of the lost ship Clementine Read more ...

Ari Augustine

The first breath I take fills me with the blackest of water, and fireflies. Sunset bleeds at the edge of the world, a marigold wound slowly eaten by the stars and smoke and unforgiving chill of the ocean. Currents chew me up and spit me out Read more ...

Sheryl Stein

Cami laid flat on the splintery park bench, her high, brown ponytail draped over the seat’s end. She inhaled the boardwalk perfume of tar, oily sausage, and fried zeppoles while staring at pinpricks of white bursting through the midnight blue Read more ...

Jessica Lewis

It takes me all day to get there.

“There” being a confusing mix of my destination and true peace of what I’m doing. Today, I will die. And I will do it on my grandmother’s favorite beach, on the middle of nowhere, with no one around. A fitting end to a life like this. Read more ...

M. Dalto

If she tried hard enough, she could see the illumination of city in the distance, glimmering on the desert’s horizon.

But she wasn’t trying hard enough.

She wasn’t trying at all.

Dawn Currie

This bay wasn’t like her bay.This was sand and seagrass shaped into mounds by the waves. Home was rocks. Black rocks, slick with weed close to the water that slipped you under the tide, and huge grey humps of rocks further back. Read more ...

Fariha Khayyam

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. Read more ...

Belinda Grant

Another box of gloves arrived.

I missed the post-man, so had to go into Doveton to pick it up, and suffer under Max’s suspicious gaze. “What do you do with all those gloves?” Read more ...

S Kaeth

You held my hand, gripping with such strength I feared my fingers might break. But I returned the grip as the howls rose around us. The Drop Site was in front of us, but between it and the bare scraggly brush we crouched in Read more ...

Sheri McIntyre

Nora sat smoking in the window of her Gastown loft, her view of the busy street below cloaked by night and the rain streaking down the glass.

Was he out there watching her now? Read more ...

Susan Burdorf

What started out as a dare between us soon became a test of courage and folly. The two are like equal sides of the same coin. Heads like courage and you win; tails like folly and you lose; like a coin tossed in a contest to determine Read more ...

Coffee Quills

…and people lived out here? Gale pinched her nose, defending herself against the cloying scent of sea muck highlighted with a rotten overture of dead or dying things. The stranded boat in front of her was a vision of determination. Read more ...

Writer in Motion Week 1

Writer in Motion Week 2

Writer in Motion Week 3

Writer in Motion Week 4

Writer in Motion Week 5

Writer in Motion Week 6


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