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Same Story, Different Writers (Part 1)

Perhaps the most common question on Wattpad is "How do I change a chapter to make it better?". Better can be pretty subjective, and just because I do something, doesn't mean it's better, or right. Some people will like my style. Some people will hate it. 

This chapter and the ones following it are a showcase. Readers like you submitted their chapters to me, and I took what they wrote and rewrote it in my own words. The goal, of course, is to see how the same scene can be changed in someone else's eyes. 

For those of you in school always being asked to write things "in your own words" because those silly schools take some strange issue with "plagiarism", take extra note.  And just in case you were curious, I took both of our chapters and I used a plagiarism check between the pair. The comparison found our works only identify at 0.9%. Only 17 words did it suspect may have been lifted from the work, a work with the same characters doing the same things in roughly the same order. 

So, you know, take note on how to do that. Also, you can see how I would change a work, and perhaps that will shake loose some ideas on how YOU can change your own work. At least, that's the idea. So without further ado... here is the first of hopefully three chapters (although at the time of posting I only have gotten two). 

Short Story: Sex on the Beach By RainerSalt

Original Edition: 

"Ugh." Jeff scratched his gray beard.

"You say it, man." Martin prodded the corpse with a foot. Gently.

The dead man lay on the sandy beach between them, on his back, the gentle waves lapping at his feet. He wore a suit—a black jacket open at the front, a pair of sodden, black pants, a white shirt stretched over a fat belly, and a tie. The latter was blue with tiny, yellow butterflies. It had settled on his chest in a bent curve—a question mark, its dot formed by the head.

Martin prodded the man's shoulder again, less gently this time, making the body wobble, once. "Looks real dead to me." He took off his wide-rimmed hat to move a hand over his bald, mottled scalp.

"Looks kinda surprised, though." Jeff took a long drag from his reefer.

The corpse's mouth stood open, and his vacant stare was on the blue sky above them.

Martin turned to face the palm trees bordering the beach. "Maaarge!" He waved.

A small cottage stood at the trees' edge. Its walls were adorned with faded rainbow flags, and it stood beside a verdant garden. Marge looked up from her work amid the plants there.

"Come, you need to see this." He lifted a fist and extended a finger pointing at the surprised body.

Marge got up. She grabbed a walking stick leaning against the garden fence and hobbled her way down onto the beach. "What's it this time, guys?"

"Just come and see for yourself." Martin's gaze returned to the dead man.

Marge joined them. "Holy shit." She fingered her long braid of silver hair.

"Yeah. Shit." Jeff nodded. "Dunno about holy, though."

Marge snapped the reefer from Jeff's fingers and inhaled deeply. "What do we do with that?" She waved the usurped joint at the body.

Martin shrugged. "We should get the police. Shouldn't we?"

"Sure..." She glowered at him. "The police. They would love to have a look at it. And at our house. And at the weed in our garden. Wouldn't they?"

They all looked at their garden, where breast-high, slender-leaved plants were rustling in the morning breeze coming in from the ocean.

"Old Sarge Harry is okay. He keeps quiet." Martin grinned.