Revision means taking the next step from editing. Editing is looking for spelling mistakes and punctuation errors. Revision is taking big ideas, and changing them. Actually changing the stories. Revision is when the story really starts to blossom. When you revise, sometimes you might change a whole page at a time. Some people say that revision is the most important step of writing a great piece.
With my revision on this piece, I added more descriptive language, changed the way it ended, and explained the piece in more depth. Before the revision, my piece wasn’t very good, but now that I have revised, I am very proud of my piece.
THE FIRST NIGHT
That night, when Scheherazade was in bed, her sister Dinarzad said, “Please, sister, tell us another one of your lovely tales.” The king added, “Let it be the most amazing story I have ever heard.” Scheherazade replied, “With the greatest pleasure!”
I heard, O happy King, there onced lived a farmer, on the outskirts of Baghdad. He held the farm all by himself. One day, he was picking the vegetables in the garden, and a rabbit hopped by. The rabbit knocked him off balance. He tumbled down the large hill knocking down everything in sight. At the end of a hill, he saw a rock. He was rolling too fast to slow down before the rock. He prayed to Allah to save him. As he was about to hit the rock, the rock lifted to reveal a hole in the ground. A shadowy figure climbed outside of the hole and snatched him into the hole. It was about a five foot drop. He landed on top of a squashed tomato he had picked up on the farm. He slowly got up, and rolled off the tomato. He saw a demon towering above him.
But morning drew near, and Scheherazade fell silent. Dinarzad said to her sister, “Sister, what an amazing story!” Scheherazade replied, “It is nothing compared with what I will tell you tomorrow, of the king lets me live.”
THE SECOND NIGHT
The following night when Scheherazade was in bed, her sister Dinarzad said, “Please sister, tell us more of this amazing tale.” “Let it be the end of the tale of the Farmer and the Demon,” the King added. Scheherazade replied, “With the greatest pleasure!”
I heard, O happy King, that the man was frozen with fear. He crawled backwards towards the wall. His lip was quivering. He had always been a really hard worker on the farm, but he was not a very strong man. The demon cocked his head at the farmer. He sensed something special about him. The man then saw behind the demon, the terrified faces of fifty townspeople. They stared at the demon in horror. The demon had been holding them prisoner. The man was once again, paralyzed with fear. This demon knew everything about everyone. The demon was going to keep the man prisoner too, but the demon knew of the farmer’s hard work on the farm. He was very wise. He worried that if he left him alive, then he would escape and help the others. The demon decided that he would kill the farmer.
But morning drew near, and Scheherazade fell silent. Dinarzad said to her sister, “Sister, what an amazing story!” Scheherazade replied, “It is nothing compared with what I will tell you tomorrow, if the king lets me live.”
THE THIRD NIGHT
The following night when Scheherazade was in bed, her sister Dinarzad said, “Please sister, tell us more of this amazing tale.” “Let it be the end of the tale of the Farmer and the Demon,” the King added. Scheherazade replied, “With the greatest pleasure!”
I heard, O happy king, that the demon was bearing down on the poor farmer. There was nothing that he could do. Just as the demon was about to strike him, the farmer yelled, “Wait! Do you not want to hear some lovely stories so that I may entertain you before you have to kill me?”
The demon replied, “It could not hurt.” The farmer began an intense story of a sailor named Aamir. He told of his great adventures with the sea serpent. When he was finished, the demon begged for another. He told three more stories. Each one left the demon more groggy than before. By the fourth one, the demon was fast asleep. The farmer started to hatch a plan for escape. He worked together with the only other person in the hole that would agree to help him. Her name was Kabirah. Together, they would lead one person out, each day, while the demon was asleep.
But morning drew near, and Scheherazade fell silent. Dinarzad said to her sister, “Sister, what an amazing story!” Scheherazade replied, “It is nothing compared with what I will tell you tomorrow, of the king lets me live.”
THE FOURTH NIGHT
The following night when Scheherazade was in bed, her sister Dinarzad said, “Please sister, tell us more of this amazing tale.” “Let it be the end of the tale of the Farmer and the Demon,” the King added. Scheherazade replied, “With the greatest pleasure!”
I heard O happy king, that each day, a new person would be led out of the hole by Kabirah. The farmer would tell the demon stories before he would notice. The change was small enough, that it was hard to tell for the demon. On the forty-fifth day, there were only five people left, plus the farmer. As the days progressed, the demon became more and more immune to the stories. It took longer and longer to make him fall asleep. On the forty-fifth day, Kabirah and the farmer decided that it would be easier to take all of the remaining people out all at a time. Kabirah was walking up the side of the hole with the people at her heels, and then the demon woke up. What he saw enraged him. He saw a farmer sleeping in a corner, and the townspeople sneaking out the hole. “WHO IS BEHIND THIS?” He roared. This woke the farmer. He jumped up in surprise. “NEVER MIND,” the demon continued. He sensed that the farmer was behind this. “POOR FARMER, COME HERE.” The farmer was now wide awake, and he slowly crawled towards the demon. “YOU’RE TOO SNEAKY. I NEVER SHOULD HAVE TRUSTED YOU.” As this was happening, Kabirah was running out the door with the remaining five townspeople. “NOOOOOOOO!” the demon shouted. As the farmer tried to escape, the demon turned him into a snake. “NOW THE WORLD WILL KNOW OF YOUR SNEAKINESS, AND STAY AWAY FROM YOU! NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU USE THIS AGAINST ME!” But the snake could no longer understand him. His slimy green body slithered out the door. Kabirah took in the snake as a pet. She would always be reminded of the farmer’s selflessness.
