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Title

1

Amelia Armande

Marina Crisp

O.R.C.A.

2

Joshua Crisp

Tom McNally

The Song of Achilles

3

Marina Crisp

Joshua Crisp

Crumbs

4

Tom McNally

Amelia Armande

Hawkmoth

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: ‘fibre'

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: ‘fibre'

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: ‘fibre'

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: 'fibre'

Amelia Armande first draft

Land Dolphins

I pulled little Maisie into the side passage just in time. She wasn't old enough yet for the clicking sound to have any meaning to her, but I'd heard this one several times before. Not a hunting sound - this was excitement, maybe even conversational. Which meant we had not been spotted - and there were more than one of them.

We watched as two glowing orbs of water streaked past us, lighting the dark alley for just a moment. The caterpillar treads splashed mud onto Maisie's dress, but she didn't say a word. Squeaking and chittering, the land dolphins sped on.

Word count: 100

Amelia Armande, your editor is:  Tom McNally

Tom’s edits:

Got the thought

At the moment using too many words for too small a moment

More economy of wordage

Maybe reader isn’t getting enough

100 Words

Rearrange: put middle at start

It wasn’t a hunting sound - this was excitement, maybe even conversational. Which meant we had not been spotted - and there were more than one of them.
Maisie wasn't old enough for the sound to have any meaning yet. I pulled her (nutritious?) little body, (nutritious with youth?) into the side passage just in time.

We watched as two glowing orbs of water streaked past us, lighting the dark alley for just a moment. The caterpillar treads splashed mud onto Maisie's dress, and I was relieved when she didn't say a word. Squeaking and chittering, the land dolphin (pod?) sped on.

The phrase Land Dolphins should be saved for the end - maybe the title could be ORCA or simply Killer?

Word count: 95

Amelia Armande second draft

O.R.C.A.

It wasn’t a hunting sound - this was excitement, maybe even conversational. Which meant we had not been spotted - and there was more than one of them.

Maisie wasn't old enough for the sound to have any meaning yet. I pulled her little body into the side passage just in time.

We watched as two glowing orbs of water streaked past us, lighting the dark alley for just a moment. The caterpillar treads splashed mud onto Maisie's dress. I was relieved when she didn't say a word. Squeaking and chittering, the two land dolphins sped on towards their pod.

Word count: 100

Joshua Crisp FIRST DRAFT

SOmething SOmething Achilles.

A wave of Trojan soldiers came charging down the beach towards him, but his rage made a mockery of time, and his enemies strode towards him with all the speed and substance of mist. He danced a beautiful ballet of slaughter up the beach, breathed into the pain and reached a state of zen sorrow. Achilles heard only the distant waves on the shore, and the gentle snapping of bone and tendons, as his hands flickered death and he made for Hector.

When he had killed him, Achilles dragged his clattering corpse to echo around the city for three days.

Word count: 100

Joshua Crisp your editor is:  Marina Crisp

Marina’s edits: I understand beautiful ballet as a choice, but i think maybe change it/ just have ballet?
I might suggest moving instead from Zen sorrow into a ballet of slaughter - otherwise his sadness comes before he kills Hector and potentially his sadness should come way before - causing anger - or afterwards, after the bloodlust.

Also, not needed but you could have Hector, full stop, as in Achilles sees him, and then have the sounds of tendons/waves as he makes his way.
(I like wave down the beach of soldiers, could lean into ocean stuff.)

Word count:

Joshua Crisp SECOND DRAFT

The song of Achilles

He breathed into the pain and reached a state of zen sorrow. A wave of Trojan soldiers came crashing down the beach towards him, but his rage made a mockery of their numbers, and his enemies fell, sandcastles before the tide. Achilles heard only the distant waves on the shore, and the gentle snapping of bone and tendons. The constant rhythmic tattoo of death was the beat of his wrath. Achilles sang his wrath and surged towards Hector, Patroclus’ executioner.

Achilles dragged Hector’s clattering corpse to echo around the city for three days, so all would hear the pulse of his pain.

Word count: 102

Marina Crisp FIRST DRAFT

crumbs

First draft lost to time

Word count: 105

Marina, your editor is: Amelia Armande

Amelia Armande’s edits: Ok, not entirely certain. What I'm getting from this is an old guy who's been neglected, possibly hallucinating, definitely paranoid. I dont know what jump rats are. If they are fictional maybe make clearer, if they are real then never mind,just me not understanding.

Love the crows laughing. You repeat the laugh with the rats. Either repeat again (Freya laughing?) or cut one.

Maybe start with Raymond tapping the hole in the wainscot, and rearrange around that. You probably only need one curtain moment, and I think horrified by the light is stronger. If you start with wainscot, you could make the stakes being that he doesn't know where the sound is coming from and the reveal is the rats on the table.

Word count:

Marina Crisp SECOND DRAFT

Crumbs

Raymond tapped his cane at the wainscot. They were at it again, rustling the edges of the dim room. He gnashed his teeth,frowning. The scuttling continued. Freya heard them too, although she denied it. She probably lured them in with crumbs. The RingCrows laughed outside. Where was Freya? Why was she punishing him like this? How much time had passed? Raymond peeped out the curtain beside him and was horrified by a knife of light. On his table, two jumprats sat on his plate, one drank from his drink, laughing at him. Sitting across from him Freya was slumped in a wide wide smile.

Word count:

Tom McNally FIRST DRAFT

Hawkmoth

Clara had seen the last of her friends eaten on the wing. Billie, Jennifer, little Max. They had been shining, then the screech and a rustle of leather, and then they were gone. She had started the evening among friends and as the dark deepened she was fluttering alone.

The murderer circled back with sadistic slowness but that gave Clara time to prepare her cunt. She played the fool, pretended that she hadn’t just seen them plucked from the air one by one. When the terrible screech rippled through her she heaved, she ruptured and she sent it searing back like a bullet.

The monster veered up, blinking and squelching, flickering up into the evening. Clara’s cunt had saved her again.

Word count: 121

Tom McNally, your editor is: Joshua Crisp

Josh’s edits: Tom, what the fuck. I mean, really, what the hell is even going on here?

Are you certain you want to use the word cunt? It’s divisive. I understand the power of it, but it places your work into a kind of ‘gross’ category. Maybe you like that feel, but maybe it’ll make the audience react poorly? It’s a risk.

You can probably lose the first bit. Start with The murderer circled back with sadistic slowness but that gave Clara time to prepare her cunt. It’s a great first line, and then you can take the time to explain it away a bit more. If we’re writing a ‘cunt-piece’ then let’s open with it AND close with it. You can have 2 but they must bookend an explanation.

You can allow yourself to be clearer with what’s going on. Go to a weird place, fine, and throw in provocative language, fine, but you have to educate as well as entertain xD

If you delete the first paragraph, you can give yourself 28 more words to really spell out what’s occurring, because I’m at the end of my editing time and… I still don’t know.

“Pretended she hadn’t seen them” is weird, too. Should probably be “her friends/family/whatever” for clarity.

Tom McNally SECOND DRAFT

Hawkmoth

The murderer circled back with sadistic slowness but that gave Clara time to prepare her cunt.

Her family was gone. There had been the screech and a rustle of leather, and - nothing. She fluttered alone, gathering up her strength.

She felt the screech rippling through her before she heard it. She heaved, and by vibrating her cunt at a reciprocal frequency she captured the sound, amplified it, and reflected it back at the monster’s leering face with the force of a bullet.

The bat veered up, blinking and squelching, flickering up into the blue evening. Clara fluttered alone in the light.

Word count: 100