Write on Wednesday: The mighty, mighty rewrite!

I'm joining Ink, Paper, Pen for Write on Wednesdays!

Write on Wednesday Exercise 14 - The Mighty Mighty Rewrite...

Zanni: I did a workshop with literary author Mj Hyland, who teachers Masters in Creative Writing at Manchester University. She asked us to choose our favourite book, take the first paragraph and then write our own content into the paragraph, keeping the structure, tone, language etc. It's really helpful!

I chose to re-write the first paragraph of Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh.  This is one of my favourite books, I adore Waugh's writing style, and I'm a bit of a war junkie so it was a perfect fit for me.  I have never attempted anything like this before but really enjoyed the exercise.  

Brideshead Revisted - Original opening paragraph 

When I reached ‘C’ Company lines, which were at the top of the hill, I paused and looked back at the camp, just coming into full view below me through the grey mist of early morning.  We were leaving that day.  When we marched in, three months before, the place was under snow; now the first leaves of spring were unfolding.  I had reflected then that, whatever scenes of desolation lay ahead of us, I never feared one more brutal than this, and I reflected now that it had no single happy memory for me.

Brideshead Revisited as written by Eloise!

C Company was marching out from the training camp at Salisbury today.  I had issued the orders, signed the papers, instructed the NCO’s and given directions for my batman to pack up my belongings and forward them to Army Headquarters in London.   And now I took a few moments to walk up a small crest overlooking the camp to watch the men below, busy at work in preparation for leaving.  We had spent three cold, miserable, mind numbing months here in Salisbury; marching and drilling up to our knees in snow for an enemy most of the men had not yet encountered.  But this was 1942 and having already served for three years, I was war weary and fatigued with Army life.  For every day encamped here, the despair had eaten deeper into my soul.  I was certain that no experience in the field could be as desperate as each day spent in camp, but I was wrong.  This war would show me depravity and death on a scale I could not yet imagine.