Yesterday, I bravely supplied my first rough draft of my first ever fanfiction in a post about an interactive session I attended at MiddlMoot 2019. Today, I’m posting my second draft, and the one I submitted to be read and voted upon by the attendees of MiddleMoot.
“Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards,” muttered Pippin under his breath. The gate through the High Hay had to be here somewhere, just on the other side of Farmer Maggot’s field. Pippin crouched low, reduced to sneaking across the crotchety farmer’s crops in the gathering gloom of twilight. Distracted by a rustling in the hedgerow, he tripped over a clump of dirt and tumbled into a wet patch of mushrooms. An involuntary screech escaped his lips, just before his face planted in the muck.
Sputtering and wiping the mud from his face and eyes, Pippin heard a low growl from behind him. Turning slowly to look over his shoulder, he spied one of Farmer Maggot’s huge guard dogs. And he was so close to home! The Shire was just beyond the hedge on the other side of this field.
Pippin scrambled in the mud, searching for anything he could use in defense, while keeping his eyes riveted on the slavering jaws of the advancing hound. Just as he was about to bolt in panic, he spied his brooch, the second one gifted to him by Galadriel, the Leaf of Lorien brooch. The first one Pippin had left as a mark for Aragorn to find while he was kidnapped by Saruman’s Uruk-hai. Pippin snatched the brooch and flung the shining token into the dog’s gaping maw. Caught completely by surprise, the dog inhaled to bark and instead choked on the brooch.
“Wizards affairs indeed! Don’t meddle with Peregrin Took!’ cried Pippin as the hound ran back go his master’s house, alternately whining and coughing.
Pippin jaunted off into the West and the Shire, already concocting an expanded edition of the tale to tell to Sam, Merry and Frodo over ale at the Green Dragon.
And there you have it, my second draft that I wrote to have more legible handwriting to submit to the competition. And I failed on both counts. My handwriting was not more legible than my first draft, my story ended up being shorter (because I was editing and rewriting as I went) and I failed to garner enough (or any) votes. But winning doesn’t matter to me. I thoroughly enjoyed this activity and would do it again if and when the opportunity arises.
Should I work on a final draft?
Or should I abandon this and try again from scratch?
