First Draft -- Fix It

Yesterday I posted a flash fiction, The Elephant in the Room. It was a first draft, not seen by my editor or, for that matter, by my husband. I liked it. But I can almost always count on me to like something I consider finished. The thing is, I know what I meant to say. The question is, will a reader know what I meant to say?

I think the most important skill for a writer (You know, over and above good grammar and the ability to use spell check.) is the ability to rewrite. It's not my editor's responsibility to tell me how to fix a problem area. It's their responsibility to identify the problem area. Good Beta readers can also help in the same way. My husband is a good Beta reader. They can say what doesn't work for them. There again, it's my responsibility to fix it.

All this said, this is the fixed Elephant in the Room.

image from newh2o.com

Her daughter Carrie sat in her normal place at the table. So beautiful. So young.

The girl reached for the rolls and offered them to the young man seated next to her.

Two months married, the girl had completed her first year at State. It would be so easy to give up her future to follow a man.

She, herself had followed Carrie's father Paul. Not that she gave anything up. College wasn't that important to her. She could paint without college and where she lived didn't make any difference. But Carrie had a true gift for math. She should be in school.

Loxodonta, the African Elephant, is one of two extant genera of the family, Elephantidae. Elephas, the Asian, is the other. At an overall length of 18–21 feet, even the smaller Asian elephant would not fit in this room. It's very size would suck the oxygen out of the room.

Her chest hurt. She wanted to ask her brilliant daughter if she was sure she wanted to follow this young man.

"What about school?" she asked pouring them each a glass of lemonade.

"Oh, Mom. They have colleges in Virginia."

The African bush elephant is even bigger, females stand an average of seven to nine feet tall. An ear six feet long by four feet wide would cast a shadow twice that large over her dining table.

She took her own seat next to Paul. Her family was already scattered across the country by the time she married him. She hadn't had the reassurance of family in emergencies. Or when Carrie was born.

She knew exactly how far it was from Fort Wayne to Norfolk, Virginia -- 728.8 miles. She could drive it if she had to, but it would take too long to get there in an emergency. And Paul couldn't take off work just any time. He would, though. If it were an emergency.

When a calf squeals in distress, its mother rushes to its protection immediately. It is common for the bond between mother and daughter to last more than 50 years.

"Yes, Carrie. I know there are colleges in Virginia." She looked at Paul. Paul raised his eyebrows.

Michael reached for the meat loaf. "That'll give her something to do while I'm deployed. That and the baby."

"Yes, the baby ..." she murmured.

She wanted to say how hard it is to sit in a hospital waiting room or, worse yet, to wait 728.8 miles away.

She left the table to get something. Paul followed her. What was it she was in the kitchen to get? Napkins? No. A serving spoon.

The African elephant's trunk ends in two opposing lips, whereas the Asian elephant trunk ends in a single lip. The trunk is an important method of touch. Elephants use touch in much the same way humans do. In greeting. To reassure and soothe. She wanted to weep.

Paul touched her cheek, then took the spoon from her.

"It'll be all right," he said. "She'll be fine." He kissed her on the forehead. "You'll be fine."

Elephants exhibit grief behaviors, including a period of despondency, dragging behind the herd for days. Elephants have been reported to surround a grieving family member. 

The End

When my husband read it yesterday, he asked "What's the point?" 

And my editor felt that the elephant facts seemed too random, not relevant to the story.

Hopefully, the point is now more obvious and the elephant facts more relevant.

If you missed yesterday's post, click here.

                                             

The Elephant in the Room -- flash fiction

Her daughter sat in her normal place at the table. So beautiful. So young.

The girl reached for the rolls and offered them to the young man seated next to her.

Loxodonta, the African Elephant, is one of two extant genera of the family, Elephantidae. Elephas, the Asian, is the other. At an overall length of 18–21 feet, even the smaller Asian elephant would not fit in the room.

"What about school?" she asked pouring them each a glass of lemonade.

"Oh, Mom. They have colleges in Virginia."

The African bush elephant is even bigger, females stand an average of seven to nine feet tall. An ear six feet long by four feet wide cast a shadow twice that large over her dining table.

She knew exactly how far it was from Ft. Wayne to Norfolk, Virginia -- 728.8 miles. She could drive it if she had to, but it would take too long to get there if there were an emergency. And Paul couldn't take off work just any time. He would, though. If it were an emergency.

"Yes, Carrie. I know. But will you go?" She looked at Paul. Dear, steady Paul.

Michael reached for the meat loaf. "That'll give her something to do while I'm deployed. That and the baby."

The elephant's upper lip and nose form a trunk which acts as a fifth limb and a sound amplifier.

"Yes, the baby . . . ." she repeated leaving the table to get something. Paul followed her. What was it she was in the kitchen to get? Napkins? No. A serving spoon.

The African elephant's trunk ends in two opposing lips, whereas the Asian elephant trunk ends in a single lip. The trunk is an important method of touch.

Paul took the spoon from her. "It'll be all right," he said. "She'll be fine." He kissed her on the forehead. "You'll be fine."

The elephant's cortex has as many neurons as that of a human brain.


(The day after this was first posted, a properly edited, rewritten version was posted to show how important editing and rewriting are. If you would like to read that version click on Fix-It.)

The Theory of Everything -- A Review

   Last night I saw “Theory of Everything,” the biopic about Stephen Hawking. I have been a big fan of Hawking ever since . . . actually I can’t remember exactly. He was doing some kind of lecture on PBS many years ago. I’ve been interested in all things Space since I was in the Fourth Grade, so he and his work fit right in with my interests.

   I read A Brief History of Time then On the Shoulders of Giants, and A Briefer History of Time. His books are eminently readable and understandable. More important to me is his humor which shines through in all three of these works. And in his public appearances.

   The movie is wonderful. Not maudlin or cloying. Nor treacly, if there is such a word and Microsoft Word accepts it so I won’t look it up in a real hard copy dictionary. My daughter cried, but I did not. Which is something, because I’m rather famous for my tears in sad movies. This is NOT a sad movie.

And I have followed Hawking for so long that his physical limitations seem quite beside the point. The point is that he is brilliant, he lives his life on his own terms, and, thanks to modern technology, he is able to share his wit and ideas with the world.

   The movie not only resists the urge to play on our sympathies, but it does not downplay his atheism or the unconventional relationships with the people in his life. Or theirs with each other.

   And I love the way it plays his unrestrained and sometimes reckless physical activities. It reminds me of a couple of guys I used to work with many years ago.

   One was someone whom I considered to be old. He was in his forties while I was under 21. I don’t know how long he’d been in a wheel chair. Nor do I know why he couldn’t walk. Again it seemed quite beside the point. He had two children and he would take them to the “internationally famous Oklahoma City Zoo.” On their way they’d stop at a local grocery and get lettuce leaves that the produce guy trimmed away before putting the heads out for sale. At the zoo, the sidewalk along the west side of the old elephant enclosure ran fairly steeply downhill. He’d throw a handful of lettuce over the fence to the elephants. Then, with his younger daughter in his lap, he’d race the elephants to the bottom of the hill where he’d throw them more lettuce. His wife would push him back up the hill and they’d do it all over again.

   The other guy I worked with who was also in a wheelchair was my age, so naturally we had a lot more in common. One day he came in to work with his arm in a cast and sling. What happened? He and one of his buddies who used a wheelchair were racing on the front porch at his house and he fell off. So, in my experience, a rowdy guy in a wheelchair ain’t unusual. And I loved that the movie portrays Hawking that way.

   Eddie Redmayne plays Hawking in the film. He’s superb. It’s his smile. And the twinkle in his eyes. I mean they work it so he looks very like Hawking. But it’s the expressions. The nonverbal responses to his world. You don’t have to guess what he's feeling having been told he has only two years to live when he's just beginning his life as an adult. What he feels being in love, having babies. Facing the loss of his ability to communicate those grand ideas in his head. Transferring his dependence on his wife to his nurse. Letting his wife go. Getting to meet the queen. The wonder of the universe.

   And there’s no chewing the scenery, wailing, or moaning. Such melodrama has no place here.

   What did I learn about him that I did not already know? That he turned down a knighthood. Gosh, and he could have been right up there with Sir Elton, Sir Paul, and Sir Mick.

Here's a cool picture

NASA image -- Stephen Hawking in Zero Gravity flight