This task asked that we write about writers in two different settings, one being our writing heaven and the other our writing hell, then to offer these up for con-crit:
The flak jacket was a necessary evil,.but Eric hated how it pulled on his shoulders. ‘Embedded Journalism’ was the name for what he was doing here, but really it was ‘Going to War Unarmed’. It also involved becoming attached to people who were quite possibly going to be dead by the end of the week, as well as risking being dead yourself if you cocked up. Then there was the censorship; people thought the press was free, but that was bull. Dead soldiers counted, were memorialised, were made into heroes no matter how stupid and unnecessary their deaths. The numbers of injured, those maimed, whose lives were forever changed, were not recorded, except in reporters notebooks, the numbers never to be revealed because it would effect morale and support for the war back home.
This was a fascinating place. Ella had never been so relaxed, or so able and enthused to write. From her preferred lounger on deck four she could watch the whole world go by. Well, the elements of the world that could afford a fortnight’s trip on a luxury liner; the sorts of people Ella rarely got to observe, because normally she would not be able to afford this type of trip. She wa loving her new computer too, so compact and powerful and discreet. She could tap away and people weren’t at all concerned. They assumed she was doing something else, anything else than recording their every move, every nuisance of their behaviours. So much to see and do, and day-long sunshine and peace.
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